“Look, Jaycee’s completely backward, and I’m not sure how anyone is going to turn on her love engine, but I’m willing to help.” Natalie paused. “First you have to trust me.”
She took out a small notebook and a pencil. Her hands were shaking, and her mouth just kept on running. “I’ve done some research on people with your condition. I know that it’s based on social anxiety and shyness, and that given enough time, you’ll just relax and talk to us. I get that. But I can’t wait for an answer.” She scribbled her question. “I’m not trying to make you talk. I was blackout drunk, and I can’t remember. Knowing is better than not knowing. Please.”
She didn’t want to tell Mik about Bishop, but that reason—knowing is better than not knowing—where had that come from? The words seemed to throw a spotlight on her insecurities, and Natalie felt naked, hands trembling as she held out the notebook. “I love Zach,” she said. “I don’t know how I could do something so horrible.”
Sabotage.
“I need to know if…I really did it.” If she knew, she could make a plan. If she made a plan, she could understand. Hopefully.
Mik took the notebook, read the question. And then he made eye contact with her, which he’d never done before. Full-on eye contact. His expression was so miserable that she almost didn’t need his answer anymore.
“Jaycee,” Natalie said, setting her sights on a problem she could solve. “She’s obsessed with Jake. I doubt she’s ever thought about going on a date with anyone. But what if you just hang out with her? Come over to Zach’s tonight. The guys will be playing Nintendo in the basement.” She fielded his questioning look with a nod. “Zach likes old-school video games. He’s a purist, or a simpleton, depending on how you look at it. But anyway, they’ll just be guys being guys. I’ll get Jaycee there. I told her we could go to Columbus to the next spot on Jake’s map, so she’s likely to show.”
Mik stared at the notebook. At Natalie’s awful question about whether or not she’d slept with Tyler.
“You better be good enough for her,” Natalie said, still too nervous to stop talking. “For example, let’s hope you’ve gotten over the thrill of pouring glue into girls’ hair.”
Mik closed the pencil in the binding without writing anything. He leaned back on the statue and shut his eyes.
“So you won’t help me?”
Mik was still for a long moment. Finally he opened his eyes, stared up, and folded his long fingers together. When he started talking, Natalie didn’t stop him, although she wanted to. Oh God, she wanted to.
“I thought Jaycee would be at that party. I found you—jumping on a couch and waving your sweater around—and I took it as confirmation that Jaycee was probably nearby and in a similar state. I searched the house. The backyard. When I came inside again, you were gone. I had…a bad feeling.”
Natalie pictured Mik’s words as though she were remembering a movie she’d seen, not her own life.
“It took me a while to find you upstairs in his room. He’d locked the door, so I pushed it in. You were crying. Half-dressed and hugging a bottle of liquor. His pants were open, and I couldn’t tell if he was in the process of taking them off or putting them on. He was pissed. Most likely because you did not sleep with him. I drove you to Jaycee’s house, and you cried the entire way.”
It was so much worse aloud than it had been in her head. So. Much.
“So you don’t know if I slept with him?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at her, and again, the depth of his eyes blew her away. This guy understood misery. No one could fake that. “The only part you’re wrong about is the reason I brought you to Jaycee’s house. It’s not because you used to be friends. It’s because I saw her unleash on you when we were at the TB ward. That’s not Jaycee. That’s Jake.”
He cracked his knuckles. “Jake used to unload on me like that. Wanted me to talk more and hang out with people like Tyler. We were friends when we were kids, but we weren’t friends in the end.” He turned his face toward the tree line again. “I want you to remind Jaycee that she’s not Jake. I know you can.”
Natalie was nodding, unsure of when she’d started. “I think the real problem is that she doesn’t remember. When I talk to her about old times, it’s like her head is underwater.”
“But you’ll help her?”
“Of course.” Natalie felt stronger instantly. Nothing cleared her mind like problem solving.
“I’ll see if I can help you as well.” He got up.
“How?” she asked, but he kept walking. “For the love of God, text Jaycee something,” she called after him. “Anything!”
Natalie watched him go and took three practice breaths. “Nothing is so bad that it can beat three practice breaths,” her mom had promised when Natalie was really young. She’d believed it then. That was before Jake’s neck pulled a right angle. And before she’d learned that the worst things in life weren’t horrific accidents, but the things you did to the people you loved. Things that could make you unrecognizable to yourself.
Chapter 23
Jaycee
Descending the stairs into Zach’s basement room was like a time warp to middle school. His posters were all yellowing and curled, and on a strictly Zelda/Mario/Dragon Ball Z theme. A neon party sign hung from one wall, while a majority of the room was taken up by a TV, couch, huge bed, and shelving unit full of movies.
I’d been here once before for Natalie’s surprise fourteenth birthday party, nearly six months after Jake’s accident. Zach had invited me, possibly thinking that he could get us back together as a sort of present to Natalie. It hadn’t gone down like that though.
Zach looked up from the couch. He was playing a video game with Bishop, who was seated on the floor by his feet. Natalie had her legs across Zach’s lap while she read a book.
“You came,” Zach said. “Huzzah!”
“Against all odds,” I muttered. “Didn’t I drink a bottle of Tabasco in this basement?”
“And puked it up on the Oriental rug,” Zach finished. “We don’t have to do that this time.”
I stood behind the couch, feeling so very out of place. Exactly like I had four years ago.
Bishop glanced over his shoulder with a good smile. He had a sort of model beauty to his cheekbones and dark skin. It didn’t do anything for me, but it sure as hell was nice to look at. “Why would you drink a bottle of Tabasco?” he asked.
“Because someone dared her,” Natalie said, flipping a page in her book. “And if anyone starts truth or dare tonight, I’ll nail them with my pepper spray. You’ve been warned.”
“Still, Tabasco?” Bishop asked. “A whole bottle?”
“She just likes to act like Jake,” Natalie said caustically. “He was into stupid stuff.”
My frown tightened. “When people feel awkward about something, they avoid it,” I said. “And when they can’t avoid the topic, they avoid the person.”
Bishop nodded and sighed, his expression telling me that he understood.
“No one knew how to talk to me after my brother died. So no one talked to me. Not even my closest friends.” I glanced at Natalie and was happy to see that her face was glowing red. “I went to Natalie’s birthday party because my parents wanted me to be social. And I took everyone’s dares because it was the easiest way to distract from the awkwardness of my sorry family history. The easiest way to get people to talk to me.”
“Is that what those dares are about?” Zach asked without taking an eye off his game. The boy had a phenomenal ability to be unaffected by personal talk. I kind of loved it. “I was in the woods with Kolenski and that crowd when you rolled half-naked in the poison ivy.”
“You’re lucky I wasn’t there,” Natalie muttered.
Bishop leaned over the back of the couch. “Natalie says we’re heading to Columbus.”
I nodded. “The Gates of Hell. Also cal
led the Blood Bowl because of all the skateboarders who’ve wiped out there.” I snuggled my backpack closer to my chest. Jake’s prized possession, his skateboard, peeked out of the top. His urbex journal chronicled his skating at the Gates of Hell, and I was ready to bet the $3,489 in my savings account that getting the Jake Albany Strangelove experience was going to involve some skinned knees.
Natalie swung her legs over the side of the couch and led me across the basement to a king-size bed with anime sheets. Porcupine-haired, vaguely Asian characters screamed up at me with huge, blue eyes and tight fists.
“These sheets are awesome,” I said. “Where do you even find Dragon Ball Z sheets for a bed this big?”
“Don’t be mean.”
“No, really. I’m genuinely curious.”
“eBay,” Natalie said. She held open a bag of supplies, showing off the spray paint she’d collected for Bishop, a first aid kit, flashlights, headlamps, snacks, and bottles of water. “I’ve packed a little something for everyone.”
I picked up a brand-new Swiss Army knife still in the package. “Remind me to come find you during the apocalypse.”
“I’m going to take that as the first compliment you’ve given me in five years.”
I gave my blessing, waving my hand like a pharaoh. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out, ready to reassure my dad once again that I would return in one piece. But the text wasn’t from my dad.
It was from Mik.
Do you want me to come?
I froze.
“Say yes,” Natalie hissed from where she’d magically appeared over my shoulder.
“What’re you, a ninja?” I said, batting her out of my breathing space. I typed yes but couldn’t hit send right away. This wasn’t as simple as Natalie seemed to think. If I invited Mik along, I might get distracted from my mission to find Jake’s marker. To really remember him like I ached to do.
There were other aches, surprisingly deep ones that wanted me to press send.
I did, and Natalie held both arms up like I’d scored a goal. I slipped my phone into my pocket like nothing happened, which was a lie, because my pulse was banging like I’d sprinted around the room.
I pressed on the mattress. “So, did you lose your virginity on these awesome sheets?”
Natalie’s mouth fell open. “See? That. That’s what you have got to work on. You can’t just say everything that pops into your head around Mik. You’ll drive him away.”
“Why not? He likes me—at least everyone seems to think so—and I’ve always been this way. How would I drive him away by being myself when myself is what interested him in the first place?”
“She’s got a point,” Bishop yelled over.
“This is real girl talk,” Natalie snapped at him. “Go back to your digital boobs.” She looked at me very seriously. “It’s good you’re finally admitting that he likes you.”
I shrugged. “Jake used to tease him about having a crush on me when we were kids, and then Mik would turn bright red and stop talking in my presence for a month.” My mom had reminded me of that earlier today, and now I had an odd, old flash of Mik standing up for me when Jake tried to make me jump off the garage roof. After which Jake wrote MIK + JAYCEE on the outside of his tree house so that every kid in the neighborhood could mock us. “Jake hated when we hung out.”
Natalie was watching me with that calculating expression she did so well. “Come on, Jayce. You’ve got to read between the lines. He likes you a lot. Remember back at The Ridges when you bugged him about his cigarettes? I have not seen that boy smoke since that night. Have you?” Natalie folded her arms, possibly trying to keep all that know-it-all inside. “You’ve got to tell him how you feel. No playing games. If you just want to be friends, you have to say that. If you’re curious about—”
“I thought all you girls set out to play games,” Bishop yelled.
Natalie shook her head and spoke quietly, although I had no doubt that her voice carried to the couch. “Marrakesh did a number on him. She was cruel.”
“That girl scared me,” I admitted. “She sang show tunes in the girls’ locker room. Something about the worst pies in London.”
“Drama queen,” Natalie muttered. “‘Suffered’ for her art.” She stepped even closer. “You know how she broke up with him? She had him drop her off at the airport, and then right before she walked through security, she said, ‘We’re done forever,’ and handed him a backpack containing everything he’d ever given her. Every card and poem. Even ticket stubs from the movies they’d gone to together.”
“That sounds psychotic.”
Natalie nodded solemnly, and I glanced at Bishop. He was pretending not to listen.
“So Mik is coming?” Zach asked conspicuously from the couch. “I think I like that guy.”
“Yes,” Natalie called back.
I was slightly shocked when my phone buzzed again.
Here.
Natalie looked at it. “Tell Mik to come down. Or wait, let’s just go now.” She grabbed Zach’s controller and turned off the game. Both Bishop and Zach swore at her.
“Zatch!” a small voice called down the stairs.
Natalie grabbed Zach by the shirt before he could run up. “Don’t tell Alianna where we’re going,” Natalie said.
Zach issued a few groans and went upstairs to help his little sister with something. I used the free second to reread Mik’s messages on my phone. How many times had I stared at this screen, willing him to send me a text? Now I had two. By the time I glanced up again, I’d almost missed a rather gruff exchange between Bishop and Natalie.
“I’m…trying. Give me a chance,” she said.
“Do it tonight,” he said. “This isn’t going to be like my breakup with Marrakesh. I’m not going to let him smack into the truth all by himself.” He elbowed past her and up the stairs.
“What was that about?” I asked when he was gone.
Natalie smoothed her hair behind her ears nervously. “Bishop thinks Zach and I hate Marrakesh. I guess we do. Or did. She got too intense. We tried to warn him. Well, Zach did. It didn’t go so well. Bishop accused Zach of all kinds of nasty things, and they haven’t been the same since.” She dug through her bag and produced a neatly folded pile of clothes. “I brought you something to wear. Hurry up and change.”
“Not a chance.” I looked down at my beat-up shirt and jeans. “These are perfect for draining, which is what we’re going to be doing if you don’t remember.”
“Draining?”
“Yes. An urbex subset involving drainage ditches and sewers—a.k.a., draining. You remember?” I longed to see some spark of recognition in my old friend’s eyes. When we were eight, we’d found an open sewer hatch behind the elementary school.
“The portal,” she said, smiling.
It made me grin and feel entirely too happy.
“You remember how we thought we’d end up in Narnia?”
“Yeah, but we just came out at the far end of the block.”
“Still, it was magical,” I pushed.
Natalie looked away. “We’re lucky we didn’t get lost and die, or pick up some disease.”
My smile folded in on itself, and I poked at the V-neck navy shirt and the jeans that were more spandex than denim. “I’m not wearing clubbing clothes.”
“You’ve never been clubbing,” Natalie said, “so how would you know? Besides, these stretchy jeans are surprisingly comfortable.”
“For a Barbie.” I dropped the clothes on the bed. “I’ll wear these if you wear my clothes.”
I really thought I’d won. There was no way that the Natalie from my childhood—or the girl who’d growled You’re embarrassing me in my ear while I was puking up Tabasco—would wear my baggy, beat-up Jake hand-me-downs. But a few moments later, Natalie and I stepped outside of Zach’s house so al
tered in appearance that the boys would have stared—if they weren’t busy watching Mik throw Zach’s brother up against a car.
Chapter 24
Zach
Zach was stoked. A night out doing mildly illegal things with his girl and his best bud? This was what he had been hoping his summer after graduation would be like. Bingo. Yes. Let’s do this.
Zach waved at Mik, who had just parked along the street. He even slapped Bishop on the shoulder, and when his friend gave him a Don’t look, Zach didn’t even feel bad. He just clapped his hands together and jumped down the front steps.
And then goddamn Tyler pulled up.
His brother got out of his car like he owned the world, the driveway, and Zach—in that order. “What’s up, dicktart?” Tyler yelled across the yard.
Zach’s words came out tired. “Fuck off, Tyler.”
Tyler walked toward him, and Zach readied himself for an arm around the neck, a forceful poke to the ribs, and some bullshit whispered into his ear about how hot Zach’s girlfriend was. But that never happened.
Mik intercepted Tyler. He grabbed Tyler by the shirt, swung him around, and knocked him against Natalie’s ancient Oldsmobile. Zach couldn’t hear anything, but he blinked hard because he was pretty sure that Mik was arguing with Tyler.
“What is that about?” Bishop asked.
“Old history?” Zach tried. “They were in high school together.”
The girls stepped out of the house, and Zach felt Natalie’s arms reach around him.
“What’s happening?” Jaycee asked. Zach looked over at her and almost fell down. Boobs. Her boobs were smiling up at him from the top of a V-neck shirt. “Well?”
“No clue,” he said.
The four of them stepped closer to the near-fight, and Mik released Tyler with a shove.
Tyler recovered fast. Too fast. He flashed a slick smile at Jaycee and Natalie. “Hey, ladies. What’re you up to tonight? Ditch these dicks. Come out with me.”
Ordinarily, Natalie would mouth off something fierce at Tyler, and that’s what Zach was waiting for. Only Natalie said nothing and stepped farther behind him. Tyler came closer, and what happened next was so swift that Zach almost missed it.
You Were Here Page 12
