A Map for Wrecked Girls

by Jessica Taylor

  Always I’d believed in privacy, even with my sister. I didn’t snoop through her drawers without asking, even though I had a standing invitation to borrow anything of hers I liked. But if Alex was stowing away a secret . . .

  I lay still until I could be sure Henri’s breathing was level and she was in a deep sleep. Carefully, I crept outside the shelter and slipped on my shoes.

  I had to stretch high above my head to reach the straps and pull the backpack down from the tree. It wasn’t as heavy as I’d imagined. I peeled the zipper back and reached inside. All my touch could identify was paper.

  With a loose handful crumpling in my palm, I held some out to the moonlight. Between my fingers were notes and notes of American dollars.

  I turned the backpack inside out and shook it hard. Wads of bills tumbled in every direction, loose ones carried slightly on the breeze. Sentimental value and the drugs weren’t what Alex guarded so closely—the backpack was full of money.

  How and why would Casey have this much cash?

  Something solid hit the ground.

  I combed through the leaves in the dark and locked my fingers around something small. The shape was familiar.

  The boat that day—I remembered Casey taking long drags off a Newport. Ashes scattering in the wind and drifting into the sea below.

  Sitting in the palm of my hand was something we desperately needed—now more than ever. A lighter.

  CHAPTER 16

  TWO MONTHS BEFORE

  The rooftop party was alive with the sound of Ambisextrous, that month’s name for our friend Mick’s emo band.

  Jesse coined the phrase ambisextrous after Mick announced he could jerk off with both hands. Next thing we knew, Ambisextrous was headlining at the best Bay Area spots—most of them gay bars.

  The music already pounded against my breastbone, and we were still at the bottom of the stairway, ready to climb three stories up to the roof.

  “Hey, I’ve got a missed call.” Henri leaned against the banister to check out her phone. “Oh. Never mind.”

  “Who was it?”

  She made a face I couldn’t quite read, looped her fingers around mine, and pointed her leopard-print heels upstairs. Under her breath, she said, “Dad.”

  I froze and leaned against the metal wall of the stairwell. “Are you okay?”

  “Are you kidding?” She batted her eyelashes at me over her shoulder. “I’m fucking fabulous.”

  We stepped into the crowd, and at the very moment I squeezed her fingertips, I felt Henri’s hand let go.

  The wake she left filled in with bodies. I spun around and stood on the tips of my toes—the crowd had already swallowed her.

  “Someone looks lost.”

  Mick snatched me into a bear hug.

  “Nice party,” I said.

  It was true. Mick always threw the most amazing parties. As soon as the fog lifted from the city and school let out, Mick had everyone on his rooftop.

  “You know it, Little Jones.” He shook out his blond dreadlocks and pointed to Jesse, who stood beside the DJ station. “Your boy’s over there.”

  The bass thrummed through my rib cage as I moved through the crowd. Jesse grinned and opened his arms wide. I would have swooned as I fell into his hug if his gesture hadn’t seemed so brotherly.

  He pulled back from me and left an arm draped over my shoulder. “Why are you drifting through the party all on your lonesome?”

  “Oh, Henri’s here somewhere.”

  He lifted his chin and scanned the party. “I don’t see her.”

  “She’ll turn up,” I muttered.

  We went to the booze table, where Jesse poured us two foamy keg beers. The music drowned all of our words as we sat on the roof ledge.

  “Hey, Em, isn’t that Henri over there?”

  I couldn’t see over the thick grouping of bodies. “Purple sequin skirt?”

  “Yeah. Who are those guys she’s with?”

  I craned my neck and finally caught Henri’s profile. A boy had his arm around her and one of his hands was splayed across the back of her purple sequin skirt, cupping her ass. He caught Jesse staring and glared back at us with hollow eyes that scared me.

  “Hey, Mick,” said Jesse.

  Mick abandoned the DJ stand and came to Jesse’s side.

  “You know those guys with Henri?”

  Mick squinted across the dark rooftop. “No, they’re totally crashing. You think I should kick them out?”

  In unison, Jesse and I said, “Yes.”

  We watched Mick disappear into the crowd before popping out beside Henri. The boys grabbed their plastic cups and headed down the stairs as Mick parted the dance floor back to us.

  “They’re selling something. They offered me a cut if I let them stay.” Holding up his palms, Mick said, “Don’t need none of that, you know?”

  “Hey, Em.” Jesse squinted against the strobe lights. “Is Henri leaving with them?”

  I dodged Mick’s shoulder in time to see the back of Henri’s head disappearing down the stairs.

  Jesse set his cup on the railing. “Shit.”

  I followed him down the metal stairs all the way to street level. It was almost eleven p.m. and the city streets were deserted except for those guys and a few of our friends from the party.

  Henri had perched herself on the trunk of an old drop-top car with racing stripes spray-painted down the sides. Someone revved the engine, and Jesse and I bolted to the sidewalk.

  “Henri!” I yelled.

  She lost her balance, let herself slip down the angle of the car and into the arms of the boy sitting beside her. He kept her steady—I wished I could have done the same.

  My sister never got drunk at parties. She liked to stay tipsy enough to lose some inhibitions but sober enough to keep her hair and makeup picture-perfect.

  I wrapped my jacket tight around me, and moved to her side. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re having fun,” she slurred. “Come with me, Em. That guy there’s got a friend who’ll be totally into you.”

  “That guy there. Do you even know them?”

  “No, but I’d like to.”

  Jesse stepped between us and helped Henri down from the back of the car. “Do you really think that’s safe? You don’t even know them, and you’d take your little sister?”

  She laughed and dragged her hand across Jesse’s chest. She lifted her chin to me. “Get in.”

  Jesse grabbed on to her elbows and hauled her against him. She tried to wrench away, but he held tight.

  I didn’t breathe. If there was one thing Henri couldn’t stand, it was someone holding her still.

  With her chin at her chest, she stared up at Jesse through her false eyelashes. “You should loosen up, Jess. Get yourself laid. Virginity doesn’t look good on you.”

  He flinched. His feet traveled backward, away from Henri, and he paused and stood so motionless, I imagined him wishing the cracks in the sidewalk would separate and swallow him.

  “Fuck this.” He threw up his hands, shouldered through the people spilling out of the stairway entrance, and jogged the distance back to the steps and the party.

  Henri crawled onto her knees in the passenger seat. Over the sound of the driver revving the engine, I could see her lips moving and her hands waving me closer, but I could barely make out the words.

  Finally, I heard her.

  Come with me. Come with me. Come with me.

  Those words were a song, a prayer, and an invitation into a world I was too afraid to know.

  She smiled and kept motioning with her hands as the driver reached across Henri and shut her door. Still, I shook my head.

  I couldn’t go with Henri. She’d already traveled to a place where I couldn’t follow.

  Her forehead crinkled, but that lose
r punched the accelerator and sped down the road.

  After the car disappeared around the corner with my sister’s hair tangling in the wind, I headed up the stairs to find Jesse.

  Through a sea of red plastic cups and Christmas lights, I shoved through the crowd, all the way to the corner of the roof, where Jesse stretched out on a blue-and-white-striped beach blanket.

  I lowered beside him, tucking my legs up under me. “I couldn’t go with her.”

  “So she’s all alone with them?” He rolled onto his elbow. “You should have gone too.”

  That reached down deep inside me and pulled my heart out through my throat. I was worth the risk to him, if it meant saving her.

  “Don’t worry about Henri. She’s resourceful. She always lands on her feet.”

  “Always trying to destroy herself, that’s our Henri.” His words were garbled. Only then did I notice the half-empty bottle of Bacardi. He tipped his cup toward me. “You want some?”

  “Sure.” I sipped at the spiked Coke in his hand. It only made me queasy, and I pushed it back to him.

  He downed the rest before unscrewing the Bacardi and pouring straight booze.

  The cold ocean breeze picked up, stinging my face and neck. I shivered. He yanked the beach blanket from under us and swung it over both of our shoulders.

  “I don’t know why Henri does anything she does anymore,” I said.

  “I miss the way things used to be.” He lifted a chunk of my hair and played with my wild curls.

  “Maybe you should have some water, Jesse.”

  His palm moved under my chin, and I went still. “You look so much like her now.”

  The distance between our mouths disappeared, and he kissed me.

  His tongue tasted like rum and moved in directions I didn’t think tongues were supposed to go. Everything I’d wanted, his mouth on mine. Never had I imagined it would be like this. No, this was what I wanted for as long as I could remember. I wouldn’t ruin it.

  I draped my arms over his shoulders and arched against him. The beach blanket tightened around my shoulders as Jesse tugged me closer.

  When my eyes closed, his lips disconnected.

  “Oh, fuck, Em, what am I doing? I’m so sorry.”

  “No, no. Don’t be sorry. It was fine. It was . . . nice.”

  He lifted the hem of his shirt and wiped his mouth. “I feel like a child molester or something.”

  The beach blanket tangled with my arms as I stood and shook it and myself away from him. I wanted to punch him in the jaw.

  “No, I don’t mean it like that.” He caught my hands and blew a warm breath into them. “I, like, took advantage of you. Forced myself on you or something.”

  He got to his feet and held me against him, and as I rested my cheek against his shoulder, I sighed. “It’s fine.”

  We took a cab up to North Beach. Late into the night, he confessed he’d been close to telling Henri how he felt, how nobody could love her like him. When I asked him why he hadn’t said it sooner, he wiped his tears away, smiled, and said some mountains were so majestic, even the bravest of men dared not climb them.

  It was overblown. But I didn’t laugh. Henri made us something bigger than we were, bigger than life itself, and now that she had moved on, we were two broken pieces with one thing in common—we remembered what it felt like to be whole.

  I unlocked the front door of my house, which was dark except for the light shining through Henri’s curtains.

  She’d made it home. My heart almost burst from relief. I didn’t want to see her, though—I couldn’t forget the image of her driving off into the night with those strangers.

  I tiptoed up the stairs and changed into a sleep shirt without turning on a light.

  My sheets were cold against my bare legs. I rolled to my side with a pillow hugged against my chest.

  My windows didn’t provide as good of a view into Jesse’s room as Henri’s did, but when his lights were on, they cast a glow onto my walls that always kept me awake. The lights themselves weren’t the problem, but imagining him a few walls away always kept me stirring.

  My room went dark as Jesse flicked off his lights. As I drifted into a dream about swimming in the ocean across from our seaside home, our gray hair tucked into swim caps, the doorknob turned.

  My eyes fluttered open.

  Henri’s weight sank into my mattress. “I know you’re not asleep, Em. You stayed out late. Later than me. You’re learning all of my bad habits, aren’t you?”

  “Were you worried about me?”

  “No. I knew Jesse would take care of you.” She threw her arm around my waist while her chin dug into my shoulder. “You’re not mad at me, are you? I couldn’t stand it if you were.”

  “That was a real bitch thing to do to him. To me.”

  Her breath smelled like tequila and Colgate Whitening. “To you? Em, I knew Jesse would get you home safe.”

  “But what about Jesse?”

  Her fingers glided through my hair. “I know. You’re right.”

  “Then why’d you do it?”

  “Everyone was watching.”

  “That made it so much worse.”

  She groaned before she let out a little sigh. “I’ll find a way to say I’m sorry tomorrow.”

  I rolled over, facing her. “You can’t say you’re sorry and make everything right again.”

  She snapped the sheets and scooted closer beside me. “Someday you’ll need someone to forgive you, Emma. All you’ll have to offer is a sorry—you better hope they’ll take it.”

  Her feet were ice cubes against my calves and I shrieked. “Just get your feet off me.”

  She tugged the blanket around both of our shoulders and pressed our noses together. “You love my cold feet and you know it.”

  Henri’s bed was empty the next morning. Only sheets cast this way, blankets cast another, the makings of at least a dozen full outfits piled on top. Henri never could wear the first thing she put on.

  Today was Sunday—our movie day. And she’d left.

  Our movie dates weren’t a standing occasion; sometimes things came up, but she always told me when she wouldn’t be able to make it. She’d never completely ditched me before. I wondered if it was possible to still love someone while you hated everything they’d become.

  On the kitchen counter was a big plate of cookies wrapped in cellophane with a note: Didn’t want to wake you up—you looked so sweet sleeping. Take these to Jesse. Tell him sorry for me. xoxo H

  Henri’s gifts didn’t end with her ability to turn boys into putty. Even though she seemed like the dial-it-in type, she’d always been a wizard with a mixer and a hot oven. My cookies usually ran together into one big cookie that was too crisp on the edges and doughy in the middle. “Old ladies,” she’d told me once, “they always bake.”

  She’d left me alone to take the cookies to Jesse. I wondered if the universe was giving me a sign to make my move.

  I changed into a pair of my nicest jeans and a long-sleeved blue sweater with cool leather elbow patches and a big orange bird on the front. I could have gone in Henri’s closet and borrowed any scintillating number I wanted—Henri wouldn’t have cared. But I liked quirky things. Weird things. I always had.

  Jesse stood outside washing his dad’s car, the cascading water hose arching above him and forming a rainbow in the spray.

  He shut off the water. “Guess she made it home before us, huh?”

  I nodded.

  Jesse tented his damp sweatshirt from his body and shook the fabric until it didn’t cling as closely. “Do you know what happened with those vagrants she took off with?”

  “Nope.”

  He thought I was lying, I could tell. Everyone knew Henri and I told each other everything. She would have given me every little dirty detail of her night i
f only I’d asked, but I was too afraid the details would be things I didn’t want living inside my head.

  “I thought Sundays were movie days for you and Henri.”

  “I thought so too.”

  “I saw her take off with that piece-of-shit Jake Holt earlier this morning.”

  She was back with Jake Holt—and back to leaving me for Jake Holt. Maybe he was enough to drag her out of her depression. I knew he wasn’t, but still I hoped he could be.

  Jesse motioned for me to sit beside him on the steps leading up to his porch. “So what are you doing today?”

  “I was going to hang out with Henri.”

  “You want to hang here with me? We can binge-watch something on Netflix and order Thai or something?”

  “Yeah, that sounds cool.”

  He pointed to the plate of cookies I’d set on the step between us. “Hey, those are for me, right?”

  Before I could answer, he peeled back the cellophane and snatched a cookie off the plate. He bit into a chocolate crinkle and held up his hand to catch the crumbs. With his mouth full and powdered sugar glued to his chin, his eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh my God, Em. These are so good. Did you make these?”

  I hesitated, a moment that ping-ponged in my chest, beating away my sense of right and wrong. “Yeah. I’m glad you like them.”

  All day, I tried to rebuild the path leading to our kiss the night before. I could get the kiss perfect this time, if I had another chance. Whatever it took to make Jesse see I wasn’t the girl next door anymore, that I was more than Henri’s little sister, I’d do it.

  The opportunity never came.

  Jesse walked me to the door after his dad got home from reporting the game. He leaned out onto the porch and glanced toward my yard. Looking for Henri was his permanent state now, as ingrained as breathing.

  He’d always be looking for Henri, and I’d always be hoping he didn’t find her.

  CHAPTER 17