I nodded. “I will.”
He held out the object in his hands to me. It was a sketchbook. “Um … Nathan asked me to give this to you. Can you see that Sophie gets it?”
I took the book and flipped through a few pages. There were a lot of drawings of little Sophie: some large, some small, some in pen, some in pencil, but all undeniably Sophie. “Wow,” I said to myself.
“She made quite an impression on him,” Mark said.
I nodded, smiling again. “Yeah. I told you, that's her superpower.” I reached down and unzipped my backpack, placing the sketchbook inside while pulling out the copy of Watership Down that he'd given me. I handed it to him. “I think you should have this back.”
“Did you like it?” he asked, taking it from me.
“Yeah,” I said. “It's a great story. You remind me a lot of Hazel.”
He cast his eyes to the ground. “Nah, I'm not Hazel. I … I don't know who I am. Not anymore.”
“I do,” I said, closing the short distance between us. “You're a good person. And a good friend.”
We stared at each other for a few moments, not speaking. The horrible realization that this was it, this was goodbye forever, was sinking in like a lead weight. Finally, Mark broke the silence. “Kelsey, I …”
“What is it?”
“When we left, I mean before this trial and everything, I didn't even get to say goodbye. To anyone. We … we just left. I hated that I never got that chance. When I thought I wouldn't be able to say goodbye to you, I felt so–”
“I know. So did I.”
“I'm so glad I got to see you again … before I left.”
“Do you know where you're going?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. They haven't told us yet.”
I could feel my guts tighten. “When are you leaving?”
I saw tears welling up in his eyes. “Right now.”
There were more questions, hundreds of them, but I already knew the answers. I'd seen enough cop shows to know how Witness Protection worked. We couldn't write, we couldn't chat, we couldn't text, we couldn't call each other. All ties to his former life had to be cut. Permanently.
A tear escaped, falling down my cheek as I looked up at him. “I'll never see you again, will I?”
A tear fell from his eye as well, but his gaze never left mine. “I don't know. I hope so. Maybe someday this will all blow over, and we can come out of hiding again.”
“When?”
“I don't know,” he said. “Probably not soon.”
My mind continued to spin out of control, irrational fantasies tumbling over each other in desperation. Ask me to come with you, Mark. Please, just ask me. Wherever you go, I want to go too. East coast, west coast, the mountains, the forest, the beach, anywhere! As long as we're together! That's all that matters, right?
Please, Mark! I'll never find anyone like you again! It can't end like this! It CAN'T!
Sensing my turmoil, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. “I'll miss you.”
“I'll miss you too,” I said, my voice getting even more breathy.
He managed a half-hearted smile. “You know, I just realized something … goodbyes suck.”
“Big time,” I replied, another tear falling down my cheek.
Behind Mark, the driver behind the wheel of the black car, whom I hadn't even noticed before, started the engine, obviously a cue that it was time to go.
He sniffed, taking a step back. “Goodbye, Kelsey.”
A million random, disjointed thoughts flashed through my brain. If only things had been different. If only life wasn't so unfair. If only I didn't have such a weakness for mysteries. If only he hadn't been so amazing. If only I … hadn't … fallen … in …
He backed up another step, towards the waiting car, looking at me expectantly.
Dammit, Kelsey, do something! Quit thinking and do something! If you don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your life!
“Mark!” I cried. I ran to him, put my arms around his neck and kissed him as hard as I could. It was natural, and soft, and wonderful, but my heart wouldn't let me enjoy it. My insides were so churned up, I just couldn't.
After a few seconds, we broke the kiss. I looked into his eyes.
Say it, Kelsey!
SAY IT!
“I … I love you.”
He touched his forehead to mine, his voice a tearful whisper. “I love you, too.”
We hugged again, and then faced each other for the last time.
“Remember me,” I said, somehow able to muster the strength to smile.
His final words were barely audible, but I heard every one of them. “I'll find you, Kelsey. Someday, I will find you. I promise.”
In one motion, he let go of me and climbed into the back seat, shutting the door. A few seconds later, the car disappeared out the exit gate.
“Goodbye,” I whispered to myself.
I just stood there, watching the empty space, listening as the car's engine faded into the distance. My shoulders slumped, and I stared at the ground. I didn't even notice that my Dad was standing behind me again.
“You were right about him. He's a good kid,” he said, staring at the exit gate.
I turned around to face him, and behind him, I could see that Bree, Penny and April had come out of the cafeteria and were watching me. All of them had tears in their eyes, and Bree and Penny were grasping each other's hands.
Dad knelt down, picking up my backpack where I'd dropped it. He handed it to me. “You gonna be okay, Kel?”
I nodded, finally able to catch my breath. “Yeah, Dad. Thank you.”
He turned and saw my friends, and then faced me again. “Looks like someone else needs you now.”
I looked at them, waiting for me. My crazy, mixed-up friends, who I wouldn't trade for all the money in the world. “I need them too,” I whispered. “They've done so much for me.”
Dad smiled. “Is there anything you wouldn't do for them?”
I met his gaze, then smiled back. “Not yet.”
Chapter 46
~ ELEVEN YEARS LATER ~
KELSEY CALLAHAN
Journal Entry #4
Sigh. How I ever let Aunt Libby talk me into this, I'll never know. “Write about yourself, Kelsey,” she said. “Once something is on the Internet, it's there forever,” she said. “It's kind of like being immortal!” she said.
Yeah. Immortal. Mmm hmm. It's all fine and dandy for HER to put her life's story on the Internet – she's in her sixties, has traveled to foreign countries and traipsed through exotic vistas and taken safaris and hiked across mountains and sipped champagne in a Venetian gondola by the light of a silvery moon with guys named Giovanni. People WANT to hear about that crap.
Me, what have I done? I went to school, got a degree, got a job, got an apartment. I've even gotten drunk a few times, but nothing happened during those benders that was worth immortalizing. At least, I don't think so. Ahem.
Anyway, for those of you out there who read this blog entry, know this: this is my last one. I've already told you about my childhood in Denver, my mom-less upbringing, my move to Arizona, my middle school experiences – pretty much the only time of my life that's bound to get any “hits,” if one's life can be measured that way – and, in my last entry, my incredibly average high school and college years. If there's one thing I've learned while telling my life's story, it's this: I hate talking about myself. But lucky for you, there's one thing in this world that I hate even more, and that's not finishing something I've started. So get comfy and buckle in. Immortality awaits.
Some philosophers and self-help gurus well tell you that everyone is special, that every person's life is unique. And that may very well be true, but I'm only twenty-four years old; isn't it a bit early in the game to be waxing nostalgic? Maybe whatever “specialness” life holds for me will come later on. I can only hope so, because if there's one thing no amount of school can prepare you for, it's nostalgia, a lifetime reflec
ting on just how freaking ordinary you are.
Sorry. Rant over. 'Scuse me while I get some coffee in me, this may take a bit.
Ah, that's better. Now, since this is my last entry, I'm going to dispense with the format of my previous entries by not recounting the events of my life in chronological order. That would be pointless. If this entire blasted project is going to mean something when it's all over, then I have to find a better way to do it. There's just no other way.
Don't tell my Dad I said this, but I'm really not that special. I don't mean to come off as a manic-depressive, attention-starved twenty-something who spends her evenings curled up on her couch with a vat of Rocky Road and a dozen cats watching The Bachelor. Because that's totally not me. I prefer French Vanilla. And Bruno would never stand for having another animal in the house. He may be thirteen years old and slightly blind in one eye, but I'd never dream of letting him think I'm trading him in for a younger model.
Just because I'm not special, however, doesn't mean that there haven't been some truly fantastic people in my life. I've already told you about my incredible, superhuman, legendary father, how he busted his hump to get me and Tom through our childhood and adolescence intact, and how he found another woman who saw what a truly wonderful, special person he is. Dad and Katherine celebrated their tenth anniversary just last month, and though he's put on a few pounds and lost a few more hairs from his head, he's never been happier. I've also been blessed with an older sister (okay, stepsister), and though it was awkward as hell the first couple of years, Bethany and I have become fast friends.
I don't know what it is that's kept me in Phoenix all these years, but unlike most of my friends (I'll get back to them in a sec), I'm quite happy here. Maybe it's the weather (I am NOT going back to snow!), maybe it's The Blue Dragon's awesome Szechuan Chicken (and the crab puffs are STILL the best in this or any other universe), maybe it's just that I can't stand to be more than a few miles away from dear old Dad. Yeah, I know, maybe I should use that Psychology degree on myself.
Well, the good news is, if I'm ever in dire need of some quality time with old friends, I have Joshua and Eve nearby. They're like me, truly happy where they are, and with no desire to change their surroundings. Their storybook, fairy-tale romance just refuses to end, and I swear, they get better looking every time I see them. I'd probably hate them if I didn't love them so damn much. Eve works as an associate for a local law firm and is doing exceptional work, and I just finished reading the second book in Joshua's Knights of Exile series. If you get a chance, pick it up, it's a phenomenal story. And I was present for the birth of their two boys, Ian and Adam, both of whom I am naturally the godmother.
My brother Tom took a job as a software developer for a growing company in St. Louis – don't ask me to describe what the company does, it's long and complicated and it would probably only make sense to those of you with advanced degrees in technobabble. He surprised Dad and me five years ago when he came home for Christmas with a fiancé, a lovely lady named Joanna who works as a barista. I instantly liked her, and she taught me everything I know about coffee. They tied the knot under the Gateway Arch (cliché, I know), and Joanna gave birth to my first niece, Maya, one year later.
As I mentioned last time, April and I had a pretty average run in high school. We both had our share of boyfriends, none of whom had a clue what to do with us, and college wasn't much better. At least, for me. I often joked that she should have stuck it out with Sebastian, and we'd have a good laugh. They'd called it quits after only a couple of awkward dates in eighth grade once they learned they had absolutely nothing in common beyond their obscenely good looks, but even so, he turned out to be a pretty decent guy, all in all.
Oh, speaking of Baz, thank God for Facebook! I actually found and friended him earlier this year, and we spent a couple of hours chatting. He eventually gave up his rock-and-roll dreams, but not his music. He's now living in Boston, where he teaches rock guitar to kids. The girls still love his accent, and he still hates Bono. Glad to see some things never change.
I also made an effort to find Tonya Sykes, but I had to give up after several hours of fruitless searching. I asked a few other classmates that I'd tracked down if they knew what became of her, and the only rumor that surfaced was that she'd gotten married and moved to Canada. I hope things turned out well for her.
As for April, she got an athletic scholarship to Fresno State, and it looked like she had finally gotten all of her chubby-girl insecurities out of her system when she found out that her mom, Charlene, had developed breast cancer. They had been as close as my Dad and me, and when Charlene passed eighteen months later, April took it really hard. Bree, Penny and I tried for months to console her, but it wasn't enough to keep her from dropping out of school and gaining all that weight back. I felt so helpless, but there are some things you just can't fix.
After a little more than a year of mourning, however, she realized she had too much life left to waste it all wallowing in grief. She spent six months practically living in the gym, and the next time I saw her, she was in the best shape of her life, which she said she owed to the personal trainer she hired. His name's Devon, and he's an incredible guy. He not only got her to lose all the weight and keep it off, he also got her into rock climbing, and they ran their first marathon together on her twenty-first birthday. They were married nine months later … she'd finally found The One. I am now godmother to their adorable son Xavier, and their second child, Abigail, is due in two months. So, yes, that'll be four godchildren, if you're keeping count.
I'm sure you're all wondering about Bree and Penny's relationship. Sorry if I left you hanging in my last entry. Well, they made the mutual decision to break up after their freshman year of high school, when it became clear their lives were going in very different directions. We all made a vow to stay friends and keep in touch no matter where we went, but you know how promises like that often get washed away by the passage of time.
Bree developed (no pun intended, I SWEAR) her love of photography into a full-blown career. She freelanced for a few years, finally taking a job with an LGBT magazine in San Diego. She had a serious relationship with a woman named Lana, whom I never met, but when Lana abruptly broke it off, I had to rush to Bree's side to be with her. Not that I minded, of course. She never hid her sexual orientation once we left middle school, but there was always a level of vulnerability that she never seemed to overcome. With my and her doting parents' help, she was able to get back on track.
Despite our best efforts to keep in touch, Penny went off the grid for a couple of years. It wasn't until she came back to the U.S. that we found out that her free-spirited nature had taken her all over Europe. She'd had a fling with a professional dancer in Prague, but that, too, ended badly, and, heartbroken, she came home to stay with her parents for a while. She and I got together often during that time, but after a few months, the restlessness returned, and she moved to Seattle, getting a job as a yoga instructor.
When I finished college, I wasn't sure what to do with my degree. Dad suggested I become a profiler, but I couldn't let him down (gently) fast enough. My life was not going to become an episode of Criminal Minds, thank you very much. I ended up taking a job at the Beresford Behavioral Institute in Scottsdale, and God, did I hate every single minute of it. After two years of mind-numbing, soul-sucking, stagnant research, I couldn't take it anymore.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me backtrack a little bit.
About a year ago, I had a brainstorm. I contacted Bree, Penny and April, and suggested that we all get together for a no-holds-barred girls'-week-out in Vegas. I hadn't seen any of them in months, and the four of us hadn't spent a single minute together as a group since we graduated high school, and it took a lot of finagling with our work schedules, but we made it happen.
When we all met up in the lobby of the MGM Grand, we couldn't stop hugging and screaming like little girls, and with absolutely no regard for dignity or decorum. The first co
uple of days were simply fantastic. The four of us together, indomitable, invincible, inseparable. We laughed and cried, ate (too much) and drank (wayyyyy too much), reminisced and reminisced some more, and had the best time of our grown-up lives. Eventually, though, April started missing her hubby and her baby boy, both of whom had so generously sprung her for the occasion. We'd planned a full seven days together, but we ended up putting her in a cab to the airport only four days in. What were we going to do, force her to stay?
The most incredible thing, though, was what happened between Bree and Penny. After we got the initial excitement of being together for the first time in years out of our systems, they started talking. I mean, seriously talking. It wasn't long before it became clear that the spark they'd once had back in high school had grown into a roaring fire. Whatever it was that forced them apart had vanished into nothingness. By Day Five, they had fallen into each other's arms, and they haven't let go of each other since. After April left, I officially became the proverbial “third wheel,” but thankfully, I met a really nice guy at the blackjack tables named Pete, who was more than adequate company for the rest of my stay in Sin City.
A month ago, I got the awesome news that Penny had finally given up her nomadic ways and was ready to settle down in one location. Both hers and Bree's parents gave them enough money to buy a little house in Leucadia, California, only a couple of miles from the ocean. Penny is still teaching yoga, Bree is still a great photog, and hey hey, they're exchanging vows late next year. I can't wait.
So I think that about covers everybody. Oh, yeah, except me. Well, when I returned from Vegas I had a message on my answering machine that changed my life. It was Renee, my old counselor from JMMS, whom I'd managed to stay in touch with all this time. She caught me up on what was going on at my old stomping grounds, which had become one of the best academic middle schools in the state. The student body had grown considerably, so they had enough of a budget to hire a second counselor, a great lady named Consuelo Trujillo, to help take some of the burden off of Renee's shoulders.
Ethan's Secret (James Madison Series Book 2) Page 29
