by Rachel Shane
He brushed his lips against mine a few times before parting my mouth with his tongue. Warmth spread across my collar as I arched my back into the kiss. His mouth moved against mine, passionate and deep. I raked my hands through his soft, willowy hair. Being with him felt amazing and I tried to push away my old worries knocking against my skull: did we just ruin everything?
He pulled away, breath heavy. “Hold that thought one second.” He slid out his phone and the glow illuminated his concerned face.
My stomach dropped. While we were kissing, he must have been thinking about the call…not about me.
“What’s your number?” I croaked out.
I couldn’t see his face anymore as he rattled off a string of numbers. I punched them into my own phone.
A faint vibration rattled in his pocket.
“You should take that,” I said. “It might be the important phone call you’re waiting for.”
He laughed and accepted the call, a faint blue glow illuminating his face. “Hey, can I call you back? I’m kind of busy.”
I flipped onto my side and stared at him, able to make out his features more clearly with the illumination from the phones. He did the same thing so we both were talking with our cells pressed to our ears, gazing at each other.
Into the phone, I asked, “We’re still friends, right? Best friends? I don’t want to ruin that.”
“Of course. No worries.” The pause between this real life conversation and the one that came out of my ear created an echo, a carbon copy of what he’d just said.
“That’s good, because if we’re best friends, we shouldn’t hold anything back from each other.”
He paused before nodding, probably worried I would ask about his family secret.
“I wanted to tell you some juicy gossip.” I paused. “I hooked up with the cutest boy today.”
A smile stretched his lips. “Yeah? Tell me about him.”
I thought for a moment, pressing my finger to my lip. He laughed. “He’s sweet, and sensitive, and I know he’s not going to hurt me like everyone else in my life. I trust him. And that’s really hard for me.”
“He sounds like a really great guy. And he’d be stupid to hurt you.” He shifted his body, leaning on his elbow, staring at me as he twirled a piece of my hair in his fingers. “Oh hey—I didn’t tell you, did I?”
“What?” The word came out as a breathy gasp, desperation evident in my tone.
“Remember that girl I’ve been in love with all summer? You know, the one who turned me down every time I tried anything with her?”
In love? The statement left me breathless. “Yes,” I squeaked out.
“She kissed me today. Out of the blue. I’m not sure why.”
All along, I’d been denying it to myself. Running from the truth. I was the biggest hypocrite of all, accusing everyone from running away from me, but never realizing I was the main culprit all along. “Maybe,” I finally said. “She kissed you out of the blue because she finally opened her eyes and realized she’s in love with you too.”
He leaned in and cupped his hands around my chin, bringing my face toward his. The phones were still pressed against our ears, echoing the sounds of the kissing. His fingertips trailed along my sides. “You’re not ticklish anymore.” He sounded disappointed.
“I’m full of surprises today,” I joked.
His fingers started moving more quickly, and I felt the familiar itch beneath his hands.
“Hey, don’t press your luck,” I said before the giggles took over.
He moved faster, torturing me. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t tell him to stop, and he kept going, laughing along with me.
I gasped out desperate breaths and he finally ripped his hands from me.
“I take back what I said. I don’t like you anymore.”
In a flash, his fingers were back, stronger, more aggressive, but still playful. I liked being so close to him, liked how he was handling me, testing me, not letting me get away with anything. I thrashed beneath him, my legs kicking, my breath gasping. I kicked too hard, and my foot went through something. Something loud. Something wet and sticky. I jerked upright, and aimed my phone at the accident. A large hole gaped in the wall, wet plaster dripping from it. “What was that?”
A door slammed above us and stomping followed, along with muffled arguments.
Sabrina.
Gavin dove in front of me, blocking the hole with his body. I didn’t understand what had happened. I pulled my foot out of the wall and a milky white liquid coated my shoe. That explained the new paint smell.
Before I could make sense of anything, he picked me up and carried me to a bathroom across the hallway. My foot dripped onto the carpet. He set me down, yanked a few paper towels off the rack and headed for the sink, but the buzz of his vibrating phone distracted him. “Crap. The phone call!” The paper towels fell to the floor, and he ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I stumbled to the water in a daze, wiping off my shoe, still very confused about what had just happened.
By the time I got my shoe clean, Gavin came back to the bathroom, his face pinched in a sour expression. “Is your foot okay?”
I crossed my arms. “Why was the wall wet?”
“I’ll walk you out,” he said instead of answering.
His words were like a punch to my gut. “I’m leaving?”
“I have to clean this up before my parents…” He spun on his heels and left the bathroom. That was apparently the only answer I would get. I followed behind, keeping my pace quiet as if there was a ticking bomb here and I might be the one to set it off.
Josephine and Chuck sat at the kitchen table, their hands clasped in front of them as Sabrina showcased various outfits she pulled out of shopping bags, holding them up against her chest.
Gavin and I trudged down the front steps like two cars passing on the street, strangers except for the shared road. I tried to think of something to say. Anything. “I’m really impressed with your guitar playing.” I knew my words were trite. This was so minor compared to whatever the phone call was about. But I need to say something. How had the best night of my life turned into the most confusing? “How long did it take to teach yourself that song?”
“Oh.” He stole a brief glance in my direction. “Only a week. Isla’s been teaching me.”
My chest tightened. Isla, of course. She’d been in the closet with Gavin. I wasn’t the first. Sure he said he loved me, but would he have gone to Isla if I hadn’t kissed him first? I’d been hoping he brought me there to show me his secret lair, reveal a part of himself that only I knew about, but obviously that wasn’t the case. I was just the next number in a queue for his attention, my ticket called at the deli line.
“She wants to join our band.” His jaw was tight, and his shoulders were pushed back, full of tension.
“No,” I said, but I wasn’t sure I even had a choice. Isla had found a way to wedge herself into Gavin’s life. She’d find a way into the band too.
He pulled hard on my door handle to open it for me. I moved toward him, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him goodnight, but he turned his head away from me.
I swallowed hard as tears charged against my eye. “All right then. I’ll see you Monday, I guess.” My words came out equal parts hurt and angry.
He snapped his head toward me. “Moxie, listen. I’m not saying what just happened was a mistake. But…” He seemed to be struggling, trying to think of the right words. “You might be better off not getting involved right now.”
Involved with him?
After he went inside without another word, I sat inside my car for several minutes, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. Until I came to the conclusion that none of it made sense.
Present Day
“Look, a note!” Isla points to the Tully front door where an envelope flaps in the wind, adhered by a strip of tape. “Maybe you’re parents left you a way in.”
Sabrina tu
rns to me, eyes wide. “Hang on…I destroyed the note my parents left.”
I creep closer to the door, my pulse amping as I spot Josephine’s name inscribed on the envelope. Sabrina rips it off, and we all huddle together to look at the note inside.
Josephine,
I’m sick with worry. I spotted Sabrina out of school today, riding around with some hoodlum girl. I recognized her car from a few weeks ago when I saw Gavin trying to do a good deed of helping her load a decrepit couch from the street. I think she was trying to mug him. He didn’t seem to know her so I waved it off, but now I’m second-guessing that decision.
The girls glance at me, but I roll my eyes and keep reading.
I’m beside myself with guilt, worrying I could have done more to prevent your children from this girl’s influences. I worry for their safety and reputation. So when I saw her with Sabrina, I followed them to a filthy warehouse! My worst fears were confirmed when I found a box of junk in the girl’s car, and inside it was a bag of cocaine.
I clamp a hand over my mouth. “The bag of white powder!” Sabrina and I said at the same time.
I’m so sorry, Josephine, but I lost track of them before I could rescue Sabrina. I drove to your house to tell you what was going on, but you had just left. I was honking at your car for miles and you’re phone’s been disconnected!
Please call me as soon as you get this. If I don’t hear from you by tonight, I’m going to call the police. I don’t want to involve them without your consent, but I can’t let this sit on my conscience much longer.
Sincerely,
Noreen Waverly
“Mrs. Waverly drove the Ford Focus!” Sabrina breathes a sigh of relief.
But my stomach swirls at the mention of the police. “You should call her and smooth things over.”
Isla hands over her phone and Sabrina dials quickly. “Hi, Mrs. Waverly.” Her voice rattles. “Yes, I’m alright.”
She listens for a moment as the wind picks up her wavy brown hair and whips it around her face. Leafy green trees sway in the distance, the only sound on the eerie, quiet street.
“Mrs. Waverly, please calm down. Everything is okay.”
Sabrina waves her hand in a circle as Mrs. Waverly talks her ear off.
“I didn’t go to a warehouse!” She bites her lip. “Are you sure it was me?”
Another muffled rush issues from the phone.
“No, she’s not here right now. She’s…right. She’s at…the hospital.” Sabrina winces when she says it. “Nothing serious! She just, um, cut her finger cooking and needed stitches.” Loud talking interrupts her. “No! I’m with…I’m at school. So you don’t have to come get me. Yeah, okay that sounds good. Gavin’s here too. Okay, I’ll see you later.” Sabrina bites her lip. “Yeah, gotta go. Thanks for checking in on us.”
She clicks the phone off. “Oh my God!” She covers her face in her hands. “She tried to trap me! She asked where my mom was and then oh-so-casually mentioned how she’d called in sick for her teaching job. Ugh. But at least I bought us more time. She’s picking Gavin and me up at school at three o’clock. When we don’t show up, I’m sure she’ll call the police for real.”
I blow my bangs out of my face. “So, how are we going to get inside you house?”
“Anyone have an ax?” Something about Isla’s smile tells me she thinks this more hilarious than dangerous.
I sigh heavily. “Let’s check every door and window in case the boards are loose.”
I stomp down the steps and skirt around the back before the others. My feet stop dead at the sight of the sliding glass door. The doorframe juts out, warped and bent at an odd angle. Glass glints off the ground, cut in shards. A hole gapes in the slashed screen door.
A cold, crackling sensation races down my spine. “Guys.” I swallow hard against my dry throat, my words becoming more panicked with each one. “You better come here.”
I run across the deck, pulse pounding as I step over the wood panel that used to board of the door. Hack marks trace the surface, splinters bursting from every edge.
We won’t have to break into the house. Someone had done it for us.
When the girls join me, Sabrina gasps, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Isla curses under her breath, backing away toward the edge of the deck. “Is it—safe?”
Sabrina scrambles back a few steps, grabbing her shoulders and rocking back and forth on her toes.
“I highly doubt anyone’d stick around.” Someone has to have balls here. I risk ducking underneath the glass spikes still stuck to the frame and enter the Tully kitchen. Contents spill from open drawers like stuffed animals with ripped seams. Broken cups and plates litter the tile floor. A mess of papers covers a desk, distributed as if someone was spreading them like a deck of cards. A glimpse at the living room down the hall reveals open cabinets and objects sitting askew. “Sabrina, this place looks like it was searched. I need you to tell me if anything is missing.”
She lets out a whimper but ducks into the kitchen. My chest squeezes at her cry of anguish upon seeing the mess. I wade through the piles of papers strewn about the floor, my shoes leaving footprints as I swing open the basement door.
Sabrina rushes to my side, grabbing on to my arm. “Nothing’s down there. No one uses that place anymore.”
“Gavin does. Right, Isla?” I wink at Isla as she crawls inside. My heart thumps at the memory of Friday night…and of Gavin’s insinuation that Isla had been here as well.
She squints at me. “What are you talking about?”
I scoff out a laugh at her feign of innocence and descend the steps two at a time. “Didn’t you teach Gavin how to play guitar down here?” The stomp of feet behind me indicates the girls decided to follow.
When we reach the closet door, she grabs my arm, her eyes swimming back and forth to assess my face. “Wait, did he bring you down here?”
“What are you talking about?” I mock, throwing her own words back in her face.
When I open the closet door, I breathe a sigh of relief as my knees sink onto the familiar pillows. A tinny sound reverberates and I dig beneath the fabric to find the ukulele. “Does this ring a bell?” I pass it to Isla.
“Ha!” she exclaims, and my heart sinks. “Gavin bought one of these! I told him to, but I didn’t think he actually would.” She strums Breaking Free of Silence in perfect rhythm.
My body thrums. Is this really her first time seeing the guitar? The closet?
“Whoa.” Sabrina crawls in behind me. “I had no idea Gavin hung out down here.”
“It’s his hideaway.” I run my hand over the wall, searching for the spot I’d kicked in. The white powder must refer to the dried plaster Gavin used to repair the wall. The hole has been freshly plastered and when I’d kicked it in, he’d thrown himself in front of it to shield it. There was something he didn’t want me to see. Maybe something inside.
As I scour the dry wall, I come across a spot that isn’t smooth, but contains bumps and scrape marks. Relief washes over me. This is it. “Stand back!”
Sabrina scrambles back toward the entrance. I lean against the opposite wall, bring my knees in, then launch them forward. My foot breaks through the wall with a sickening crack. White powder falls with the pitter patter of rain.
“Oh my God!” Sabrina shouts. “What are you—”
I stick my hand into drafty the hole. A wide open space greets my palm and my fingers graze over the crumbs from the wall coating the floor. I sweep away the particles until I touch on some soft padding rolled like a tube.
I pull it back out of the hole, knocking away more plaster. My eyes drink in a manilla envelope. This was what Gavin didn’t want me to see. “Something tells me this is what the intruder was looking for.”
Sabrina grabs it out of my hands and shakes off the plaster. “How did you know this was here? Did Gavin tell you? Why didn’t we come here first?” She crawls out of the closet so she can get a better look in the light.
&
nbsp; “I didn’t realize the white powder referred to this until we were at the beach.” I blink against the harsh basement light as I emerge from the closet.
Sabrina raises a brow. “What does 1 of 2 mean then? It was written on the bag.”
I’ve been thinking about that. “Was Gavin good at chemistry? The only thing I can think of is that it meant two states of matter. It’s powder now. But the last time I saw it, it was liquid.”
“Last time you saw it? You knew where the hole was. How?” Sabrina’s eyes narrow.
I avoid Isla’s eyes. “Gavin and I came here Friday night… to be alone.”
“Alone as in making out?” Isla asks. “Or alone as in finding a mysterious hole in the wall?”
I bite my lip. “Do you want me to answer that?”
Isla lets out a strangled cry at my insinuation.
“I knew it!” Sabrina shrieks.
I tell them about accidentally kicking the wall but I leave off the catalyst for it. The kiss. Being ticklish.
Isla falls back into one of the desks, grabbing the side for support. “And then he called me for a date. Great. I’m sloppy seconds.”
“Well, if he didn’t want you to see this…then it must be important.” Sabrina opens the file.
The three of us huddle under the light, flipping through the files. Legal jargon fills the pages, all dated in 2001.
“2001. That doesn’t match 1994,” I point out.
“Wow, Moxie, you’re astute,” Isla says, an edge to her voice.
Guilt seizes me and my chest constricts. I shouldn’t have rubbed it in. I open my mouth to apologize but it comes out as anger. “Don’t be mad at me for kissing Gavin, okay? I thought we were getting along.”
