“Some people … they try to kill themselves, and they get help, and then they’re better. And then some people get help, and then … they just manage things. And I’m in that group. I still have no idea what I am supposed to say about it. I feel so much better, but it’s not like I can ever stop taking the pills. They won’t cure me.”
I had known there was no cure, but that hadn’t stopped me from hoping for one anyway. I had spent the last weeks thinking about how great it would be when I got back together with Ben—the last person who mattered who didn’t know what happened. When I had someone who loved me again, when I could prove to my parents that I was back to my old self, that I was normal and stable and capable of heading off to college. Then I would be better.
And on some level, I knew it was wrong to try to break him up with Hannah, even if they weren’t serious. Maybe he did deserve better than Hannah, but he probably deserved better than a girlfriend who lied to him and dumped him, too.
Except another level, a darker part of me, just felt like I deserved him. Because I was there first, and for longer, and I needed him. He was the last ingredient I needed to return to the person I’d been last year, before things had gotten so massively screwed up. Not the sort of thing you could admit and still be a good person, but it had felt like the truth.
Except that it was a lie, too. Because with or without Ben, I couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine.
I rested my cheek against my knee. “Some people will graduate from therapy.”
Fisher will graduate from therapy.
“And I will not.”
And this is how it’s going to be forever.
49
Rosie Winchester
April 19, 2:50 AM
“That’s bullshit,” I said finally.
“Ro,” said Ket disapprovingly.
“No, she’s right. It’s bullshit,” said Jenna, her mouth set in a thin line.
Elin glanced between me and Jenna, looking like a smaller version of herself, wavy blonde hair falling around her like a waterfall. “What?”
“First, it’s not ‘just depression,’” Jenna snapped, making air quotes with her fingers. “It’s fucking depression. It’s a nightmare, that’s what it is, and don’t ever think it’s something to be embarrassed about.”
Elin rolled her eyes at Jenna, and weirdly, I felt encouraged.
Because I’d rather have her show us how she really felt than just pretend to be happy.
And if that meant I had to talk about some feelings, well then dammit, I was going to talk about some feelings.
I stared at Elin until she looked back at me, resisting the urge to retreat and let Jenna handle this alone. “She’s right,” I said, hoping Elin knew that I meant it with everything I had. “You may have it forever, but it’s not going to be like this forever. This is going to get better.”
Ket took my hand, and I convinced myself not to pull it away. I gave it a squeeze and saw her smile in the darkness.
“Everyone is messed up, in one way or another,” I said. “Some of us more than others.”
(Teddy and Jenna, struggling to control their tempers.)
(Ket, pretending she was carefree and confident, even when she wasn’t.)
(Me ignoring all of it, trying to avoid any emotional situation that was messy or unpleasant.)
(And apparently the beautiful, perfect Fisher Reese, hiding some problem I never would have or could have guessed about.)
(And Elin, staring at me with an expression that looked a lot like doubt on her face.)
I squeezed Ket’s hand extra hard, hoping to borrow a little of her courage. “But the solution isn’t to think we’re broken. I think it’s to admit that we’re all the same. And not pretend that everything is fine when it isn’t.”
“That was wise, dude,” Ket said approvingly.
I raised my eyebrows at her. “Speaking of things that aren’t fine? Making a sex tape with someone you hate.”
“I didn’t!” Ket burst out.
“You almost did,” I said, and Jenna nodded, looking stern.
“But she didn’t,” Elin said defensively.
“You gotta work on that self-esteem, Ket,” Jenna said. “It is seriously so awful.”
Ket raised both eyebrows, her dark eyes shining in the dim lantern light. “Tell me more, Little Miss PTSD.”
Jenna rested her cheek on her knee, but she was smiling. “Yeah, yeah.”
Ket yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “Well, the really important thing is that I found a way to shut Vaughn up for good. So yeah, I definitely suck for blabbing in the first place, but overall, go me. Am I right?”
“Definitely,” Elin said, fighting a smirk.
We all leaned back against the four walls of the tree house, like we were one connected organism relaxing at once.
And then I heard a snap.
“What was that?” I said, eyes wide. All around the circle, my friends stared back at me, mouths open slightly, eyes shadowed by the lantern, heads tilted, straining to listen.
A creak—and suddenly Jenna was tumbling backward, a board in the wall behind her tumbling to the yard below. “Holy shit,” she gasped as Ket and I lurched over to grasp her hands and pull her back up.
“Get out, get out!” Elin yelled as wood snapped and cracked. Ket squealed, scrambling to her feet and jumping out onto the lawn, not bothering with the ladder. Jenna’s dress snagged on a splinter and ripped as she followed, cursing as she landed. I grabbed my skirt and held it up by my knees, pulling my shoes off and tossing them into the darkness as I crouched in the doorway.
I turned, but Elin was already reaching for me. We jumped together.
It wasn’t like jumping when we were kids—we spent summers in the treehouse, leaping out into the air and landing on soft, well-watered green grass.
I winced as I hit the ground, pain shooting up my shins, and threw my hands out to catch myself as I fell over, dry twigs cutting into my palms. Elin hissed beside me, stumbling in the other direction.
Ket helped us to our feet as Jenna looked for my shoes in the dark. “Didn’t that seem easier when we were twelve?” Elin said, shaking her head. “Are we old already?”
“Apparently,” Jenna said, grimacing as she handed me my shoes. “Old and heavy.”
We turned and stared up at the treehouse, the moon silvery and bright behind the bare branches that surrounded it. From the outside, it looked like it was still stable, if you ignored the sagging west side. But I knew if any of us tried to climb back inside, the whole structure would come crashing to the ground.
“I’m just gonna say it,” Ket said finally. “If that was the universe sending us a message about the end of childhood, the metaphor was a little heavy-handed.”
3:00 AM
The four of us ended up walking the half-mile to Ket’s house, arms wrapped around each others’ waists and shoulders. Jenna’s car was still downtown—and Jenna probably still couldn’t have passed a breathalyzer, even if it were there. Teddy had said that we could call him for a ride, but even though Ket swore things were going to go back to normal with Teddy, I was sort of glad when Jenna said, “Let’s call him to meet us for breakfast tomorrow. Let’s have it just be us right now.”
Just us sounded perfect.
“Did anyone figure out what happened with Ben?” Elin asked.
We stopped. Ben.
I groaned. “Oh man, I’ve really got to apologize to him.” (Ugh, I hate apologizing.) (But I am going to try harder.)
“Yeah, you do,” Ket said.
“It’s not her fault,” Elin said. “I should have just explained from the beginning.”
“I think the fact that we got Hannah to ditch him for the rest of the night is apology enough,” said Jenna. “Honestly, he should be thanking us.”
“You got Hannah to ditch him? Why?” asked Elin.
Jenna waved a hand. “Too tired. I’ll explain it tomorrow.”
“Sp
eaking of boyfriends, yours is worried about you,” Elin said, bumping Jenna with her shoulder.
“Miles? Why?”
Elin shrugged. “He can tell something is wrong. You can tell him what happened, I know he wouldn’t repeat it.”
Jenna stared at Elin. “Back up. Why is he worried?”
Elin shrugged again. “Because he said you’ve been acting so crazy. Crazier than normal, anyway. I saw him at the dance, before I left.”
Jenna stopped in her tracks. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I spend a ton of energy making sure Miles doesn’t know how intense I am. He thinks that I’m, like, chill.”
The three of us laughed. “The ship has sailed there, kid,” Ket said, throwing her arms around Jenna in a bear hug.
“Miles knows you’re not chill,” I said, shaking my head in amusement.
Jenna huffed. “Whatever. You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. I am the coolest girlfriend ever. He thinks I am so laidback.”
Ket laughed and Elin smacked her. “You are a good girlfriend,” Elin clarified. “You are way more thoughtful that I ever was with Ben. But, you know that he’s seen the spreadsheets, right?”
“And he’s heard you complain about Josh Bowman?” I added.
“And he’s got eyeballs and ears.” Ket grinned. “But why do you even care? He adores you. And have you not noticed that Miles isn’t exactly cool?”
Jenna gasped. “Miles is so cool.”
Ket, Elin, and I glanced at each other.
(Are we talking about the same Miles Brooke?)
“He’s really not,” Ket said flatly. “And you should be glad. Vaughn is cool. Miles is Grade-A nerd, but people don’t notice because of his jump shot. Clearly nerd is the way to go.”
“Just accept it,” Elin said. “You two were made for each other. And he’s worried about you. So you should probably text him. I’m serious.”
Jenna glanced down, a smile fighting to emerge. “Okay,” she said simply.
The sky was an inky midnight blue, the moon hanging low in the sky, a huge silvery disc. The clouds had cleared, but I couldn’t see many stars—the lampposts were too bright. Considering it had snowed a few hours before, the temperature was practically balmy.
That’s Utah for you.
“So I have an announcement,” I said suddenly.
“You’re pregnant with FDR’s baby?” suggested Ket eagerly.
I rolled my eyes. “No. I’m going to stay for college in the fall.”
Ket and Elin squealed.
“I’m the only one who is going out-of-state now?” Jenna complained.
“No,” I said, turning to walk backward. “I’m going to transfer out-of-state for my sophomore year. I still want to get away, just … not yet.”
“Is this because FDR goes to the U?” Ket said, a wicked smirk on her face.
I shook my head. For once, I was telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s because you are going to the U. And Elin’s going to be there or Westminster by spring semester, right?”
“Right,” Elin promised.
“And Teddy, who will hopefully finally forgive me,” I pointed out. “Besides, who doesn’t want to knock out their generals with half tuition?”
“Your dad is going to be so gloaty,” Jenna warned.
I shrugged. “Gloaty is actually one of his more endurable character traits.”
Ket skipped over to the curbside, balancing along with her arms spread wide, shoes held in one hand. “Admit it though,” she said, pointing one long leg like a gymnast on the beam. “FDR being there will be a nice bonus.”
(Well, now that you mention it …)
“Ket! We made out once,” I scolded.
“Yeah, but for you, that’s practically accepting a marriage proposal,” Ket pointed out.
“He’s probably going to get to know me and then hate me,” I said.
Elin laughed. “Eeyore, everyone who gets to know you loves you.”
50
Ket West-Beauchamp
April 19, 3:20 AM
I unlocked the front door and crept in quietly. Jenna, Rosie, and Elin followed, tiptoeing behind me.
“Ket?” called Mama Leanne from the living room. “Could you come in here, please?”
I winced. The gig was Officially Up. “Crap. You guys just go up to my room, okay?” I flipped on the hallway light since there was no point in the subterfugery anymore.
I expected at least a sympathetic backward glance, but Jen, Elin, and Rosie were too tired even for that. They filed up the stairs, yawning and carrying their high heels in their hands.
I opened the French doors to the living room. Mama Leanne and Mom Kim were curled up under a blanket on the couch, Mom Kim’s feet propped up on the Ottoman of Shame. The TV screen was blue—whatever movie they’d been watching had shut itself off long ago.
Well, there was one piece of good news. They looked too tired to move, which meant my lecture was delayed.
“How was the dance?” Mom Kim asked, stifling a yawn.
“Good,” I said slowly. Was it possible that they didn’t know I’d missed my curfew by two and a half hours?
If so, I definitely wasn’t going to point it out. Another Prom Night Miracle!
“Did the other girls have fun?” Mama Leanne asked.
“Yup,” I said.
They exchanged a knowing glance as they both sat up, stretching and wincing. It was like a silent communication that you’d probably have to be an adult to read.
I paused before I shut the doors. “I’m going on a date this weekend,” I said. “With Teddy.”
My moms stared at me. They normally had to pry boy information out of me with surgical tools.
“He’s a very nice boy,” Mama Leanne said.
I beamed. “Right?”
“And you deserve a nice boy,” said Mom Kim hesitantly—not like she doubted it.
Like she was worried I would argue with her.
I paused. “Right,” I agreed, the stupid grin still plastered to my face.
I turned to go upstairs and then paused one more time. “Love you guys,” I said.
“Love you too, hon,” said Mama Leanne, sounding vaguely stunned.
Up in my room, Jenna and Rosie were changing into their pajamas, their dresses tossed over my reading chair, a mass of pink and a slash of emerald. “Elin is brushing her teeth,” Jenna yawned, pulling on a tank top.
Rosie climbed into my bed, curling up, as Elin came back from the bathroom. “You think you get the bed? I’m all post-suicidal-ly,” complained Elin.
“You don’t get to play that card,” Rosie mumbled, snuggling her face down into my pillow. “You let me be a total c-word to Ben for a month.”
I unzipped my dress and kicked it aside, opening my chest of drawers to find sleep shorts and a tee-shirt. “I’d like to point out that, one, it’s my bed, and two, Rosie, you still broke your promise to me about leaving Ben alone.”
“I broke it out of love,” Rosie mumbled as Elin curled up next to her, wrapping herself in my old baby blanket. “Besides. Now I’m obligated to help Elin make up with Ben, too, so it sort of worked out for the best.”
Elin raised her head from her pillow, a sleepy smile spreading over her face. “Really?”
“Of course,” Rosie said, patting Elin’s arm absently.
“Between the four of us, that boy doesn’t stand a chance,” Jenna said, yawning and unzipping her sleeping bag.
I eyed Rosie and Elin, who were making no move to get off my bed. “So Jenna and I have to take the floor?” I said incredulously as I pulled on my PJs.
“Speak for yourself,” Jenna said, stretching out at the foot of the bed and pulling her unzipped sleeping bag over herself. “Would you grab the light?”
“This is my bed, you bitches!” I said, but I couldn’t help but laugh.
Elin raised her head, eyes barely open. “Climb on in,” she said. “The
re’s always room.”
Acknowledgments
After what feels like a lifetime of trying to achieve this dream, the words “thank you” feel insufficient. But I am going to do my best.
Thank you to Rachel Stark, who acquired this book for Sky Pony, and for Nicole Frail, who edited it. I feel infinitely lucky to have worked with two fantastic editors who both saw something special in my book. Thanks to the entire Sky Pony team for their support.
Thank you to Maria Vicente, my amazing agent. You’re like my personal Good Witch of the Great White North and I wouldn’t have made it here without you.
Thank you to Emily Martin, Brenda Drake, the entire Pitch Wars team, and the Table of Trust. You guys were the first thing in 2014 to change my life permanently and for the better. Because of Pitch Wars, I became a better writer, I found an agent, but more importantly I made amazing friends.
Thank you to my critique partners, beta readers, and everyone who offered their time and feedback—Sarah Clift, Melanie Stanford, Chris Wharton, Hailey Archer, Lindsey Nikola, Kristin Button Wright, Gina Denney, Rosalyn Eves, Melinda Nevarez, Alyssa Witting, and Prerna Pickett. You have all made this book a little bit better and I will always be grateful that you took the time to read these words and offer your thoughts. Thanks to all the friends who encouraged my writing through the years, there are too many of you to name—which just goes to show how very lucky I have been.
Thank you to the Novel Nineteens and the Class of 2k19—you guys have made debuting an absolute joy, and I can’t wait to see what else all of us are going to do in the future.
Thank you to my parents, who encouraged a love of reading in me from a young age. To my mom, for taking me to the library multiple times a week. To my Dad, who encouraged my writing but also told me to get a job that could pay my bills. Good call there, Dad. Thank you to my grandparents—it is one of the biggest blessings of my life that I got to grow up next door to two of the all-time greats. I’m sorry for all the swears in this book.
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