This I Know

by Holly Ryan

  Reassured by this, I take off. I won’t be gone long, but I need to see if I can find these people. Which shouldn’t be too hard, considering I have a pretty good idea of who it might be.

  I hurry through the neighboring homes and find myself in the middle of a strange street. As I stop there, panting for air, another movement stands out in the darkness – a thin figure rushing through another yard, not stopping.

  I follow as fast as I can.

  When I turn the corner, I can almost make out who it is. And as I continue chasing them, I’m certain. But no matter how fast I run, I can’t quite catch them.

  So I yell, “Go to hell, Julia!”

  And Julia stops, turning back to me so fast in the darkness that I almost run into her. We’re in someone’s backyard, and so far it appears we’ve been undetected.

  “Go to hell?” she spits. “That wasn’t me back there!”

  Despite all I know of the girl, and how bold and furious she may be, I still can’t believe she had the nerve to stop running and let me catch her.

  Because I’m pissed, and she should be afraid.

  I thought I was angry at her before … that was nothing compared to now. The anger flows through my veins like a burning fuel, ignited and hot like Avery’s former home.

  Julia crosses her arms in front of me. She’s dressed in a black shirt and leggings, and her hair is done up in a tight bun at base of her neck. That bun sticks out from the bottom of a black baseball cap, and she has no shoes on. No heels today, ladies and gentlemen. Turns out she’s a quick little thing without them.

  However this turns out, we’re going to have to do it quietly. I shout-whisper, “What the hell do you mean it wasn’t you?” I take a few steps forward, invading her space.

  Her upper body leans back into unbalanced space, then she steps back to balance herself. Her mouth hangs open and she scans my face.

  “I mean it wasn’t only me,” she says.

  “Right, it wasn’t only you. I know exactly who else it was. Why don’t you tell me where he is? Or did he leave you here as the distraction? Is that it? Is he making his getaway right now?”

  “He didn’t,” she answers, her voice high.

  I look around. “Shh. Keep your voice down.”

  She whispers, “And I don’t know where he is. Anyway, you keep your voice down. I’m leaving now.” She turns to sprint away.

  Quickly, I grab her.

  “Let me go!”

  “Why? Huh?” She knows what I’m asking, and it’s not why should I let you go. I lower my voice even further. “And you’d better keep it down, or you’ll wake these people up and be in trouble sooner than you thought.”

  “Because.” She pulls her wrist up, trying to get away. When she realizes it’s fruitless, she breaks down. “Because I can’t stand to see you two together, okay?”

  My eyes narrow.

  “And because Cole hates her, too. There. Is that enough for you? You wanted to hear it.”

  “I’m going to let you go now,” I say. “If you try to go anywhere, I’m catching you and taking you to the cops. Do you get it?”

  “Yes. Whatever.”

  I drop her arm. She sighs, still catching her breath from that little chase she put me through.

  “You I get,” I say. “But what’s Cole got against her?”

  “Who the hell knows. Like I’ve bothered to ask him? That guy’s a walking, talking time bomb with everyone he comes into contact with. It doesn’t surprise me she got under his skin for one reason or another.”

  Avery, getting under someone’s skin to the point of someone setting her house on fire? I don’t buy it. Cole hates just to hate.

  “Fuck him,” I say under my breath.

  She huffs and rubs her wrist. “Yeah, well. It is what it is.”

  I gather my thoughts, then gesture around us. “You do realize what tonight means for you, right? What’s going to happen?”

  She shrugs with an attitude.

  “You’re in big trouble. You just committed arson.”

  “I told you, it wasn’t me!”

  “You said it wasn’t only you. Don’t play dumb, Julia. Look at you.” I scan her body, up and down her black clothes, her filthy, fast bare feet. I scoop the hat off her head.

  She reaches for it. “Give it to me.”

  I hold it out of her reach.

  “You and me … we’re over, Julia.” I realize the ridiculousness of what I’m saying. “Christ, we never even were! Our friendship is over. Have you got that?”

  She’s still rubbing her arm where I’d gotten hold of her. Despite all the shit she just pulled, I hope I didn’t hurt her.

  She gives up on the cap, taking in my words, and in the moonlight I think I see the beginning of tears glisten in her eyes. She darts her eyes away from me.

  Julia Crane? Offended by what I just said, to the point of actually crying? I can’t believe it. I’d always known she had a little crush on me, but I must have meant more to her than I thought.

  My pulse is finally returning to normal, so I breathe slow and deep. I forget about the cap, too, and extend my arm out to her. I can’t stand her right now, but I don’t want there to be any more suffering. There’s been enough for one night.

  “Look, Julia…”

  “Don’t touch me again.” She moves back, but as though sensing my sympathy, she says, “I’m not crying because of you, Ethan. Far from it.” She wipes a tear away. “I just don’t want to get caught, that’s all.”

  “You’re lying.”

  I move toward her, taking a step in the grass to close the ground between us. She’s done a good job of keeping her distance to make another getaway, I’ll give her that. She’s smart. But no matter how sly she thinks she is, this is the end for her. I’m going to get her back to the police; I’ll drag her, if I have to.

  I soften my voice. “Come back with me. This is the best way. I’ll tell them you cooperated and they might give you a lighter sentence. Community service or something.”

  She sniffles. “No.”

  “Come on, Julia. You don’t need this in your life. All this crap Cole has dragged you into. I know it was him and I’ll tell them it was him. I’m on your side. Okay?” This time, I’m the liar. There’s only one side I’m on, and it’s definitely not hers.

  For every step I take, she takes one step back. She’s not going to come quietly. Dammit, Julia. I should have known better than to ever release you.

  I’m going to have to do this fast, and I can’t mess up. She’s watching me, reading me, about to bolt. Watching her eyes move back and forth, I know exactly what she’s thinking – she’s working out her plan of escape.

  As I’m about to make my move, a light flicks on from the closest house. It lights up the back yard, and in that instant, both of us are washed in a glow.

  I freeze. I don’t want to be this caught up in this mess.

  A figure walks past the drawn, floor-level curtain. They’re approaching the glass back door.

  Julia doesn’t waste the moment. She’s gone, sprinting toward the next still-dark house faster than I can react.

  “Shit,” I say under my breath. I throw the cap toward her in anger, and then I run, too, but not out of fear. I need to catch her. The grass is wet with dew and I can’t believe she’s actually outrunning me. She’s not slipping or hesitating or making a single mistake; she’s good at this.

  And she’s gone.

  This time, for good.

  Once again, I come to a stop in the middle of the street. She’s disappeared. I place my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

  She’s fast.

  And now that she’s gone, I’ve got to get back to Avery. I make my way through the homes, feeling defeat.

  “Ethan,” Avery cries when she sees me. She falls into my arms. I clutch the soft fabric of her pajama top and cup her head against the crook of my arm. Her warm breath hits my sleeveless skin.

  The fire trucks are here
now, accompanied by a few police cars and an ambulance. The fire is out.

  She looks up at me. “Where did you go?”

  “There was something I had to take care of.” I touch her cheek. “I thought I saw someone, and I was right. I almost caught the person who did this.”

  Avery’s mother pulls away from the officer she’s talking to and approaches us.

  “Ethan,” she says, holding her elbows. “I’m not going to ask any questions, but I need to thank you. Avery,” she turns away from me to her daughter, “I’m making arrangements for us to stay somewhere else for tonight.” She sighs, holding up a strange cell phone, one that I assume was given to her by the police. Hers must be lost in the fire. “And probably for several nights after.”

  “Mom,” Avery says.

  The sweetness in her voice rings through my ears, calming even me.

  “It’ll be okay, Avery.” Her mom goes to Avery and hugs her. “Wherever we have to go, it’ll be okay.”

  “Mom.” Avery pulls back. “Someone did this, and Ethan knows who it was.”

  Avery’s mom gasps. “What? Don’t be ridiculous.” She turns to me. “Ethan?”

  “It’s true.”

  Avery’s mom doesn’t speak. She stands next to her daughter in silence.

  “I’ll tell the police everything I know.”

  “Good,” she says, her eyes glassy. “Good.”

  The house smolders. It’s controlled, thank God, but it doesn’t look salvageable. At least, not without lots of repairs on Avery’s side of the house. I shudder as I see the repercussions of Julia and Cole’s actions, and I think about the difference between what happened and what could have happened if only a few things in life had been tweaked. Like, for instance, that I hadn’t received that otherworldly spur of inspiration to come and talk to her.

  She probably wouldn’t be here.

  I take the moment to look down at Avery, clinging to me. I’m right about her – she’s so strong in so many ways, in so many things she’s overcome, and yet she needs me. At least, I hope it’s me she needs. She needs someone, and I pray that in the end, after she knows the truth, I’ll still be it.

  “Mrs. Dylan,” I say, pulling her mom’s attention away from the activities of the workers, “is it alright if Avery comes to my house for now? Until things get settled here? I’ll get her warmed up for you.”

  “Oh. Well, I suppose that’s all right with me. Here–” She holds out a second phone.

  Avery takes it and hides it in her hand, which then disappears back into her long sleeve.

  “Keep that on you at all times,” her mom says. “I mean it. Okay? I’m going to call you in a bit. We’ll get something figured out…” The woman’s voice trails off in a string of concern.

  “Of course, Mom.”

  I wish I’d caught Julia for her. For both of them. So that I could offer the smallest peace of mind as a gift. It feels as though that’s all I can offer.

  Which reminds me: I need to talk to the cops.

  Avery sinks into my cushy sofa. She leans forward and puts her head in her hands. I wouldn’t be surprised if she never got up again.

  “Holy shit,” she says. “I can’t believe that just happened.” She looks up at me. “Did that just happen? Am I dreaming this?”

  “No, you’re not dreaming this.” I sigh sympathetically.

  She sits back up and runs her palms across her pants. “Wow. All my things…”

  I drape a blanket over her shoulders and sit down next to her.

  “…they’re probably all gone.”

  “Come on, Avery. That’s not what’s important. You know that, right?” I lean into her, giving her a nudge. “What did your mom just tell you? Wherever you have to go, it’ll be okay.”

  Her head sinks. “I know. You’re right.” She hugs me, then shakes her head. “You rescued us. How? And out there, after, when you ran off after whoever did this. How did you do any of that?”

  “I guess I’m no stranger to disaster and panic. And attempted vengeance.”

  “Don’t play it off. You’re brave, that’s what it is. I don’t think I could have done what you did.” When she lifts her head again, she’s looking straight at me. “Ethan?” she says slowly.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why were you there? What were you doing at my house at–” she picks up the phone, clicking the screen on, “–at that time of night?”

  I rest my weight on my knees and clasp my hands together. “I, uh–”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you were there. Obviously.” She waits for me to speak.

  “Well, there was … something I wanted to tell you.”

  Her brows go up. “And it couldn’t wait until morning?”

  “Not really, no.”

  Then I tell her.

  But I don’t know how to say it, so I end up stammering like a fool. “I’m close to someone who’s affected your life in very close ways.”

  She laughs. “Okay. Are you going to tell me the entire thing in riddles?” She moves closer to me, probably in an attempt to coerce it out of me. She won’t be that close when she understands.

  I set my hand near her on the couch, then I open it wide so she can get a good look.

  “This looks familiar,” I say, “doesn’t it?”

  She looks down at my hand. She looks back at me. Her brows furrow as if I just asked her the hardest question in the world. “What do you mean?” she says.

  “I’ve seen you recoil from my hand as though you recognize it.” I hold it higher. “What does it bring to mind?” I give her a minute. “Anything?”

  She shakes her head. “Ethan–”

  “Just think, Avery. Please. I don’t want to have to spell it out for you, but I will because you need to hear this.”

  She tosses the blanket off. “Nothing, okay? It brings nothing to mind.” Her eyes well up. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.”

  “This hand,” I say, holding it closer still, “is my father’s.”

  She eyes me like I’ve just committed a murder. “Ethan, you’re scaring me.”

  I drop my hand. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to scare you. I know you’ve had enough of being scared to fill twenty lifetimes.”

  I reach out to her, but she pulls away.

  The retreat … it’s beginning.

  “And how would you know that, exactly? You act like you know everything about me.” She tips her chin down, her watery eyes narrowing in my direction. “Why?”

  “That’s part of what I’m trying to tell you.”

  She stands, unable to take the tension passing between us, as though she needs to walk some of it off and get away from me at the same time. “Then tell me already.”

  I look into her eyes, as deep as I dare, and I decide to give her all of me – even more than I already have. Breathing in deeply, I let the words flow with my outward breath. “It was my father who attacked you that night.”

  Her face drops. She slumps back down on the couch. Her anger is gone, washed away by a wave of some kind of emotion. I just hope it’s not the I want to kill you like your father tried to kill me kind. But I know her better than that, which is why it doesn’t surprise me to see that the look in her eyes is still one of pure sadness. I swear I see a single tear fall down her cheek in a straight stream before she wipes it away. As she completes her reaction to my words, the words I never thought I’d have the courage to utter to her, the world suddenly moves in slow motion, and myself along with it.

  She lifts her chin and looks straight ahead. Her nostrils flare. “Get out of here, Ethan.”

  I shudder. I can tell it hurts her to say my name. Her eyes well up even more when she hits that word – Ethan. And after it escapes her mouth she turns even further away, as though my presence hurt her, too, and she’s trying to hold it together.

  I take her chin with my thumb and my forefingers and tilt it toward me. I won’t let her do this. Not now. Not after everything we
’ve been through, what I just did for us, and after how much I love every single thing about her in a way I’ve never loved anyone before.

  I’m not about to let that all go.

  “Now!” Her face contorts and I know she’s about to cry.

  I look into her eyes, as deep as I dare, and I decide to give her all of me – even more than I already have. Whatever else she wants to know, I’ll tell her. “Let me explain–”

  She meets my eyes once but then pulls away. “You’ve explained yourself enough.” She gets up. To leave, I’m sure.

  My heart feels like it’s been stabbed … and then gouged out, burned, and stomped on. “Avery. Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  I knew it. She can’t bear to say my name. That should have been a Don’t what, Ethan? I’ll be surprised if I ever hear her say my name again, and I can’t say I blame her.

  I hesitate.

  She glares me down with the same piercing intensity that just stabbed me in the heart.

  “Don’t leave me,” I say.

  My plea doesn’t reach her as I thought it would. “Why shouldn’t I? Give me one good reason. What’ll happen if I leave you?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t want to think about that. I guess I might fall and never get up again.” The answer is brutal, but it’s honest, so I don’t take it back.

  She nods. Her face tightens up, as though she might lash out at me. “You might die. Just like I almost died when someone left me, alone to die on the sidewalk. And that was in a lot more real way than you’ll ever know.”

  Out of respect, I don’t dare speak.

  “You were a miracle for me just now, Ethan, but apparently that’s all you were. A passing miracle. That’s all you can be.”

  I take her by the shoulders. “What do you mean that’s all I am and all I can be? You said it yourself – isn’t that everything?”

  She shakes her head. “It’s not.” She brushes my hands away. “And don’t touch me again.”

  “What else then? What else do you need from me, Avery? Just tell me. I’ll do it. I’ll be it.”

  “Don’t you get it? That’s not what I want to hear. I wanted us to be normal, that’s all. I didn’t want this chaos from you, like I’ve gotten from all the others.”