“I do. Actually.”
“I’m sorry you have to be such an expert on the subject.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Me too.” I watched her knit a few rows. It was addictive, even to watch. Of course, I was tired. Then I said, “I think you two’ll get along okay.”
“Yeah. And no. We’re both stubborn. We’ll butt heads. It’ll be hard. Lord. My life had just finally got simple. Still and all, I look back on the times my life was simple and the times it was hard. And somehow it’s always the hard ones I wouldn’t trade.”
The kid walked me out to the car.
“Maybe I could call you,” she said.
“You don’t have a phone.”
“Oh. Right. Maybe I could write to you. Will you write back?”
“Yes. I will.”
“Promise?”
“Yes,” I said. “I promise I won’t be careless with your heart.”
An awkward silence. We were clearly skirting the line of mushiness, and neither one of us was the mushy type. To put it mildly.
“Thanks,” she said.
I poked her forehead with my index finger. It was as close to a gesture of affection as we were about to get. “I owed you one after San Francisco.”
“Very true.”
“Promise me you won’t steal cigarettes from that woman.”
“I won’t. I quit.”
“For real?”
“If you quit, I quit. You better stop and sleep.”
“I will.”
And I did.
I took Highway 1 down the coast, so I could stop at the Castle and tell Art and Leander and Todd I was alive and doing okay. Assuming they even cared. But I was willing to take the risk.
Of course, that took me right by “The Place.” The cross and wreath were still intact. I pulled over and parked. Looked off to the edge of the bluff. I hadn’t been out there. You know. Since.
I walked out, right to the edge. Looked down and got that strange dizzy sensation of height. Dropped to my knees without realizing I was doing it. Said this:
“I am so, so sorry I was careless with your heart. Can you ever forgive me?”
The answer was right there in front of my face. Immediately. The cool ocean wind blew the answer right into my eyes and ears: I would never know. Fairly or unfairly, I would never get to find out whether James could eventually have found it in his heart to forgive me. That’s just the way it was, and I had no choice but to accept it.
So then, the only important question left was whether I could ever forgive myself.
It was a relief, really. A comfort. The only critical question still on the table was totally within my power to answer. All by myself.
Catherine Ryan Hyde is the author of two other young adult novels: Becoming Chloe, which Kirkus Reviews called “vibrant and heartbreaking” in a starred review, and The Year of My Miraculous Reappearance, which the Philadelphia Inquirer praised as “very close to perfect.” She is also the author of several adult novels, including the national bestseller Pay It Forward, Love in the Present Tense, Electric God, Chasing Windmills, and Walter’s Purple Heart.
THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2008 by Catherine Ryan Hyde
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hyde, Catherine Ryan.
The day I killed James / Catherine Ryan Hyde. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Theresa tries to get past the guilt she feels over the death of a neighbor who loved her, first through a journal her therapist tells her to keep, then by transforming herself and starting a new life.
[1. Guilt—Fiction. 2. Death—Fiction. 3. Love—Fiction. 4. Self-actualization (Psychology)—Fiction. 5. Psychotherapy—Fiction. 6. Diaries—Fiction. 7. California—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.H96759Day 2008
[Fic]—dc22
2007049026
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
eISBN: 978-0-375-84960-2
v3.0
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