The After Girls

by Konen, Leah

  What is going on?

  But she didn’t have time to think. Because then she saw the pages. A small stack of lightly lined pages.

  “Holy shit,” Jake said, but she ignored him.

  Slowly, she picked them up.

  The first one only had a couple of sentences. May 31. A little over a week before she died:

  She’s only getting worse, and it drags me down, like weights in my stomach. Like if I jumped in the river I’d just sink. I know it will get bad again. I just know it. I know that it will never get better.

  Ella held her breath as she turned to the next page. June 1st.

  I wish there was someone to talk to, to tell EVERYTHING to. But I see their eyes when they ask if I’m okay. They don’t really want to know. They want me to say yes and then we can go back to normal. It’s the one thing I can’t tell them. I’m not normal. I’m not okay. Maybe if they really wanted to know, I’d tell them. But they don’t.

  Ella felt sick, because it was so wrong — wasn’t it? They would have helped her. They would have understood. They would have loved her no matter what. But Astrid didn’t know it.

  She died not knowing it.

  Ella turned the page again. June 4. Just two days before Astrid had left.

  I want her to get better, but I know that she won’t. And I won’t either. Sometimes I think she’s going to leave me, just like he did. That if I don’t go, she will first. And then it will just be me. I don’t think she’d even miss me. I don’t think anyone would.

  Ella flipped to the next one. June 5. The night before she died.

  Forgive me. I’m sorry.

  “Are you okay?” Jake asked, but she didn’t want to talk to him, she didn’t want to see him. She only wanted to cry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. She was the one who should be sorry. She was the one who’d failed her.

  I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

  But it was no use. It was too late.

  Ella threw the pages down and shook her head. But then she heard something. A voice.

  Help.

  She heard the word, almost as if it were whispered in her ear, and it sounded, it sounded like Astrid. But Ella spun around and it was only Jake.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked.

  “Hear what?”

  Help her.

  Ella flipped back and there it was, all of it. The photos. The carnations. The blue fabric from Astrid’s dress.

  How many times had Grace gone there? How many times had she hung around, looking for something that wasn’t coming? Just like Ella?

  It’s all my fault.

  Who had Ella been seeing all this time?

  Ella’s eyes flitted across the pages, and the words rang in her head.

  If I don’t go, she will first.

  If I don’t go, she will first.

  If I don’t go.

  She.

  Will.

  First.

  Ella turned around and grabbed Jake by the shoulders, squeezing him so hard she could feel her fingers dig into his bare skin. “That night in the cabin,” she said. “You started to tell me something. You started to tell me something about Grace.” Her heart was racing now. Running fast.

  “About Robert?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “I mean, yes, but no. Something else. You said that she shouldn’t have been surprised. Why did you say that?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said, stepping back. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “No,” she said, grabbing him again, squeezing tighter. “You have to tell me,” she screamed, shaking him. “You have to tell me the truth. Why did you say she wasn’t surprised? Why did you think she should have seen it coming? Why did you say all that? Why?”

  And in moments, the words were out of his mouth. Real. Impossible to ignore.

  “Because she tried the same thing herself.”

  Ella shook her head, stepping backwards.

  “It was right after Robert left. It was awful.”

  “No,” she said. “No.”

  If I don’t go, she will first.

  “Where is Grace?” Ella asked.

  Jake shrugged. “She said she was going out.”

  “She didn’t say where?”

  “No,” he said. “She never says where — ”

  And without thinking she ran down the hallway, ignoring Jake’s cries and his confusion. She knew. Some part of her knew. She ran out the back door that led to the shortcut through the woods, not even bothering to close it behind her.

  The woods were in front of her. Majestic. Eerie. Breathing with the wind.

  Calling her.

  She had to get to the cabin. Before it was too late.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The branches cracked beneath her feet as Sydney walked. This way had more woods, thicker woods, less trail. The feeling was deep now. Sitting in her stomach. Heavy like a rock.

  And she felt a dizzying sense of déjà vu because she realized that she’d had this feeling in this same place. Not too long ago. Not too long ago at all.

  One month ago, to be exact.

  It was as they left her. It was the last time they ever spoke to her.

  They were leaving the cabin. It was the last time they’d be in the cabin ever, all three of them. They were walking out. They were going to their party.

  Sydney/Ella: Are you sure you don’t want to come?

  Astrid: No, I’d rather stay home.

  Sydney/Ella: You sure? It’s going to be awesome.

  Astrid: I’m sure.

  Sydney/Ella (with smiles, unaware): Okay, bye.

  Astrid: Bye.

  And the feeling had hit her then, as she and Ella walked one way and Astrid walked another. That familiar ache. But it had gone away. A few drinks inside her and it was gone, and she’d forgotten about it in the morning. And she hadn’t remembered it until now. When she felt it so strongly. Again.

  Now the wind swept around her, fluttering through the leaves of the trees as she stepped into the clearing.

  She stared at the cabin. So much pain in there. And so much happiness, too. She had to go in. She knew that she did. She knew that she could. She could shake the feeling and just step inside. But before she had a chance, she heard a rustling in the trees. Cracking branches and swooshing leaves.

  Someone was out there.

  And that someone was coming here, too.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Ella didn’t think. She ran.

  Ran fast. Ran over the branches. Around the trees. Ran like she should have done that night a month ago. She should have run back. She should of run back to her friend.

  By the time she reached the clearing, she was out of breath, the cabin was in sight, and —

  “Sydney,” she said. Syd was staring right at her, as if awaiting her arrival.

  “Ella,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to play,” she started, holding up her violin. But Ella shook her head.

  “Ella, is everything okay?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ella said. She had to get inside. She ran past Sydney, across the porch, and through the door — just like that day, so much like that day — and —

  She screamed.

  Astrid. After all this time. Astrid was here. Lying here. In that cornflower blue dress. Her red hair splashed around her. The key around her neck. Just like she’d found her that day. Ella had led Grace here, and she’d been stupid, she’d walked in first, and she’d seen her friend, dead, gone, and she’d run forward and touched her and begged her to wake. But it was too late. It was too late. It was way too late.

  And she screamed and she screamed and she screamed and she screamed and then Sydney was running past her, kneeling down, saying, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” and Sydney was leaning, listening for a heartbeat, feeling for breathing and yelling. Sydney was yelling something as she shook her.
>
  Grace. Grace. Grace. Wake up, Grace. Wake up.

  Wake up, Grace.

  Wake up.

  And then Sydney was looking to her. “Ella,” she yelled. “El.”

  Ella closed her eyes. Shook her head.

  And in a second she felt Sydney’s arms around her, and she didn’t hear herself screaming anymore. And the screams were replaced with sobs, sobs that shook her body. Shook her to the core. But Sydney held her still. Sydney didn’t let go.

  But Sydney yelled above her cries. “She’s still breathing,” she said. “We have to call 911.”

  And Ella let herself open her eyes and see that despite the blue dress and despite the red hair and despite the key that it wasn’t Astrid. It wasn’t Astrid at all.

  It never was.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The news spread like wildfire in the town over the next few days. Sydney wasn’t even that surprised. It was the story of the year. A girl had killed herself, and now her mother had tried — there was no hiding it. Everybody knew.

  All over Falling Rock stories started to pop up about Grace, how she’d flipped on them once at the café, how she always looked in a daze while at the supermarket. Everyone wanted a piece of the action. Some heard about Robert, going on about how they could swear they’d seen him here and there throughout the years. Some didn’t even seem to remember that Grace had ever had a husband. That’s how it was in Falling Rock — once you left, you pretty much fell off of everyone’s radar.

  Sydney tried to avoid it all, spending her mornings with Darcy watching cartoons and her evenings at the dinner table, talking to her mom and George about the best place to find organic grapes. All the time in-between was spent with Ella, reading bad magazines and watching movies that were so stupid they were funny. The type of movies that college boys like. The ones that don’t require you to think. She felt sick about every fight, every doubt she’d had about Ella. She wanted to make it up to her. In any way she could.

  They didn’t even talk much when they were together. They were just there for each other. Sometimes they cried and sometimes they laughed. They were what they should have been from the beginning. They were friends. Friends who could finally grieve together.

  Carter called her a couple of times each day, but she didn’t answer. It wasn’t anything against him. She just wasn’t answering for anyone but Ella.

  Still, he left her messages every time.

  I hope you’re doing okay. I want to hear your voice. I’m here for you when you need me.

  On the third day, she answered. They made plans to watch a movie. Sydney was getting awfully good at that now.

  Carter gave her a big hug when she got to his house, holding her as long as he could. It felt good.

  “I missed you,” he said.

  Sydney smiled. “I’ve been a little MIA, I know.”

  Carter shook his head. “No, it’s okay. Really. I totally understand.”

  They walked inside, and she said hi to Carter’s parents, and they made their way down to the basement. It was crazy but she didn’t think that they’d ever been down in this comfy, familiar place alone. There was always Max or Ben or Ella or Astrid.

  “Alright, your choice,” he said. “Killer Clowns from Outer Space or Wedding Crashers.” Sydney weighed her options — evil spacey clowns or crude jokes and lots of naked girls. She went with the clowns.

  They sat close enough to each other but not too close. They laughed when they should laugh, and they screamed when they wanted to make fun of how horrible the movie was. At one point, she felt their legs come together, Carter’s bony thigh next to hers. She didn’t move away.

  When the movie was over, they sat in silence for a bit while the credits rolled along the screen. They were far into the names of the grips when Carter finally broke the silence.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

  “Seriously, Sydney,” he said. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

  Sydney looked over to him. His eyes were wide open and he looked like he just wanted to take care of her. He was so good.

  “I’m here,” she said. “Aren’t I? That’s a start.”

  Carter nodded, even though it was obvious that he didn’t really get it.

  “Did you hear anything about … ”

  “Grace?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sydney took a deep breath. “She’s still in the hospital. She’s fine, physically. But Jake and his mom are looking for a more long-term place, I guess.”

  “So you never knew?”

  “That she was in a really bad place?” she asked, and Carter nodded.

  Did she know, she wondered. She’d known things were bad, but not this bad. Maybe she should have. She felt guilty that she hadn’t known and heartbroken that Astrid hadn’t trusted her enough to really tell her. She didn’t think it was the kind of feeling that would ever go away — it was a wound she’d always have, and all she had to do was poke at it to feel it again — just like Audie had said. “No, I didn’t really know, I guess. I mean, I always thought something was off. She always seemed, I don’t know, volatile or something. Like she could change her mood any moment.”

  “She probably could,” Carter said.

  Sydney didn’t tell Carter everything that she and Ella had managed to piece together. That Grace had started dressing like Astrid, wearing her hair like hers. That it was her crazy, fucked-up way of grieving. That Ella wasn’t imagining things. That Ella was just the one who’d opened her eyes enough to see. That the red hair and the blue dress had really been Grace all along.

  That Astrid had a dad out there, somewhere, who probably felt more shitty about all of it than even she did.

  She didn’t think it was hers to tell.

  So she gave the clinical version. “Apparently she stopped taking her meds after Astrid died. Which is, like, not good if you have a serious depression. I guess she did that a lot, though. According to her sister.”

  “Wow,” Carter said.

  “Yeah.”

  “So you think that’s why … you know, uhh … Astrid …”

  Sydney cut him off. “I don’t know. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t. I think she needed help,” Sydney said. “Just like her mother. I think she needed help and she didn’t get it.” There was that wound again. Aching.

  Carter nodded.

  She took a deep breath. “I think if I had tried harder to understand her, to ask her, then things would have been different. But I didn’t.”

  “Syd,” Carter said. “No.”

  But she just shook her head, and a part of her almost felt lighter — it was nice to say it out loud. “Yes,” she said. “It’s just the way it is. If someone had helped her, she might have been okay. I was the one who was there.”

  Carter started to object but she stopped him. “We saved Grace. It doesn’t make up for it, but I think that somehow, somewhere maybe Astrid is proud of us for that. Like, maybe she forgives us — a little part of her.”

  Carter put his hand on Sydney’s. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  “You’ll never know how much there is to forgive,” she said.

  Carter just stared at her, the corners of his mouth turned down, his eyes trying to understand.

  “So how’s the band?” she asked, changing the subject.

  Carter laughed, quietly, exhaustedly. “What band?”

  “You mean you and Max haven’t been practicing these last few days?”

  Carter shook his head. “I haven’t heard from Max since that night. Have you heard from him?”

  “No,” Sydney said. “And I don’t want to.”

  “Well, there’s your answer then. That’s how the band is.”

  Sydney felt a pain in her heart. Not for Max so much as for what they were together. River Deep. They were just starting to get an audience. And then she got an idea.

  “You and I could do it together,” she said. “We could ke
ep it going.”

  “Max would never go for that,” Carter said.

  “Screw Max,” she said, and he laughed. “Seriously.”

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  “Seriously.”

  Carter was quiet a moment before he opened his mouth to speak. He looked into her eyes, seemed to consider it, and then looked down at his hands, removing his from hers. “I don’t think so,” he said finally. “I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Sydney asked, scooting closer to him.

  “Look at what happened to you and Max. I don’t want that to happen to us. You guys like hate each other now.”

  “That’s cause Max is a dick,” she snapped. “We wouldn’t be like that.”

  “I like having you as a friend, Syd,” he said, and her heart sank a little at the word “friend.” They could have been so much more, and she screwed it up.

  “Okay,” Sydney said. “If that’s what you want.”

  It was quiet again, and the air seemed to hang between them. All the things that hadn’t been said.

  Carter finally spoke up. “Sydney?”

  “Yes,” she said, looking right at him.

  “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s stupid.”

  “What is it?” she asked, leaning closer.

  Carter took a deep breath, and his big green eyes seemed to quiver. He looked down at his hands. “You know that stuff you said that night?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, moving in still.

  “The night we all fought.”

  “I know what night you’re talking about,” she said. “It feels like ages ago.”

  Carter smiled. “Just a few days, actually. That stuff you said about me.”

  “Yes.”

  “About your, uhh, feelings for me.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Did you mean it?” And he took a risk and looked up at her, and he must have seen immediately that she was smiling.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes I did. I meant it completely.”

  Carter smiled back. He was so goofy and cute, she wanted to just kiss him right then.