“I’m going to Wyatt’s senior party after his graduation tonight. I should have plenty of chances to slip away without him missing me for a while. Just be ready to go and I’ll call you when the time is right.”
“If Wyatt gets to me first, you can forget what I said about your mom killing me. He’ll have already done it. You sure you won’t regret this?”
I think of Wyatt . . . of Mom . . . how upset they’ll be. But then I think of Kyle and Ty’s parents. Of Ty and what lies ahead for him. Shaking my head, I say, “No regrets.”
A big flock of fluttering crows has invaded Silver Lake High’s gymnasium. At least that’s how it looks from my position in the bleachers between Mom and Addie as we watch the students gathered below us in their black caps and gowns. Folding chairs cover the floor in short rows, like corn in a field, and ninety-three seniors dart between them, hugging and nudging one another, laughing and calling out names as they move from one huddled group to the next.
I look through the binoculars Addie brought and zero in on a girl with neon-pink hair—Sylvie, of course. While most of the other girls are wearing sandals or heels, clunky leather boots peek out from beneath the hem of her gown. She’s standing with a tall guy who’s as skinny as a green bean. He leans down and whispers something in her ear, then nods to a group of girls a few feet away. Sylvie clutches her stomach and bends forward at the waist laughing, like she’s about to pee her pants. I lower the binoculars and smile, hoping she’ll be at the party later. No way it could be boring with Sylvie there. And I might need her help to make my escape.
I’m queasy just thinking about what I’m going to do. Queasy and guilty. Wyatt’s going to think I used him to sneak out of town. I hope that he and mom will forgive me once I explain Kyle’s situation. But I have my doubts about Wyatt.
More familiar faces appear in the crowd below. Wyatt’s dorky friend Clinton. Some guys from the hockey team. A girl named Natalie that Wyatt went out with last year. I see Wyatt, too, standing with a group of guys, laughing. He’s the center of attention.
This side of Wyatt is unfamiliar to me—at school with his friends—part of a world where I don’t belong. It makes me realize how small and confined my own world has been.
On a makeshift stage at the front of the building, the school band begins to warm up and the black flock quiets as they migrate to the back of the room and line up. A couple minutes later, the music pauses, and then the band starts playing, “We Are the Champions.”
In the bleachers, we all stand and watch the students file in and take their seats.
The next half hour is filled with speeches about working hard and following dreams and facing the future with courage and hope. I can’t help wondering what surprises my own future holds. I hope I’m brave enough to handle them.
Finally, the students’ names are called out alphabetically, and one by one, Silver Lake High’s graduating seniors cross the stage to receive their diplomas. It seems like forever before they reach the letter P and “Wyatt Reid Pierson.”
I look through the binoculars again. The black tassel on Wyatt’s cap swings back and forth as he climbs the stairs to the stage and walks toward the waiting principal. I smile so wide my cheeks hurt. Beside me, Addie sticks two fingers into her mouth and whistles loud enough to pop an eardrum. I hand her the binoculars so she can get a closer look while Mom and I clap and cheer.
Wyatt takes the diploma from the principal’s outstretched hand, then descends the stairs on the opposite side of the stage. Making his way back to his seat, he scans the faces in the bleachers, and when he spots us, he grins ear to ear. In that instant, I’m so proud of him. And it hits me like a brick that I’ve been afraid of losing him—that’s what this change between us has been all about. We’re graduating and the future is such a big, scary unknown. I think we’ve both been afraid that we’ll grow apart now that high school’s behind us. Maybe we thought we had to change in order to keep moving on together. But I can’t mislead Wyatt anymore, even if it hurts us both. I do love him, but only as a friend.
“You should be with them, darling,” Mom says, interrupting my train of thought. She nods toward the graduates on the floor of the gym.
“It’s okay, Mom.”
“No, it’s not. You missed out by not going to school here. I’m sorry about that, but your father and I did what we thought was best.” She surprises me by reaching for my hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how proud of you we’ve always been.”
The compliment is so unexpected, I don’t know what to say. I can only look at her and try not to burst into tears.
Mom’s smile falls away. “I know there’s been tension between us lately, and that there’s a lot about my decisions you don’t understand.” She glances toward Addie, and when she sees that her attention is firmly fixed on Wyatt, Mom says more quietly, “There’s a lot I don’t understand, either, Lily. For one thing, how you play the violin as beautifully as your sister did.” She sighs. “Maybe it’s time we both just accept what is and put the past behind us. More than anything, I want us to move on with our lives.”
I get her message. She’s telling me to stop asking questions. I love my mother, and I hate causing her so much distress. But I’m not moving on from the past until I find out the truth. For myself and for Iris.
After the ceremony ends, Addie and Mom say they’re going to dinner in Silver Lake, then to a movie. I’m glad for two reasons: Mom hasn’t had an outing like that in forever, and in case Ty’s delayed for some reason, it will give him more time to drive to the cabin and get Iris’s violin. I didn’t know how to bring it with me tonight, so I left the cabin door unlocked for Ty to grab it. He can take the violin from my bedroom and be gone before she gets back from the movie, with no problem.
Wyatt finds us, and we all take turns hugging and congratulating him. After pictures are taken with Addie’s camera, Mom and Addie leave in her Jeep, and Wyatt and I head for the community college activity center for the party. The center is sort of like a gym for students, with basketball and racquetball courts, a small bowling alley, a swimming pool, workout equipment, and empty rooms for exercise classes.
“You all right?” Wyatt asks, sliding me a look as we follow the flow of students toward the rows of doors across the front of the building.
“Sure, I’m great.”
He’s not fooled; Wyatt knows me too well. “Relax, Lil. This’ll be fun,” he assures me.
Ahead of us, somebody tugs open the door. We follow them into the mouth of the beast and are instantly surrounded by blaring music, loud voices, and shrill laughter. Tingly heat floods my body and I throb head to toe with the beat of the music that’s playing. I stay close to Wyatt as we weave through the congestion of people.
“Dude! There’s a line,” some guy barks. “You gotta sign in.”
“Sorry,” Wyatt shouts.
We make our way to the back of the crowd and take our place. The line moves quickly, and soon we’re standing before two women. One of them gestures toward a clipboard on the table, saying, “Put your name there, please. Anybody leaving the building has to check out first. If your parents call, we’ll want to let them know whether you’re here or not.” She wags a finger at us and in a singsong voice adds, “Once you leave, there’s no getting back in!”
Wyatt signs our names, while the second woman—a stocky, stern army-sergeant wannabe—shouts, “Over here, ladies and gentlemen! Let’s take a look in your pockets and bags.”
I open my bag, hoping Wyatt doesn’t see the clothes I stuffed inside for the trip to Baltimore. Luckily, he’s too busy turning his pockets inside out to pay attention.
When the lady sends us on our way, I ask, “Why can’t we get back in if we leave?”
“They don’t want people bringing alcohol back,” Wyatt explains.
Kids roam everywhere, relaxed now that the pressure of the ceremony is behind them. A dozen different activities are already underway. A coed basketball game on one of
the courts, a volleyball game on another, dodgeball on a third. Both bowling lanes are occupied, and every racquetball court is full.
We make our way to the “Vegas” room, where blackjack tables are set up, and a couple of games of craps are being played. Wyatt spots some friends from the hockey team and they wave us over. As Wyatt, P. J., and another guy named Troy start playing blackjack, I stand back and watch, mentally devising an escape plan for later tonight. I’m so antsy I feel like I could jump out of my skin.
Iris is restless, too. I’m not sure if it’s the crowd or worry about Jake or our upcoming trip that has her on edge, but she’s like a tickle in my ear that I can’t scratch.
Wyatt laughs and teases the blackjack dealer—the father of one of his friends—about cheating. I try to listen and act as if I’m interested in what’s going on, but it’s no use. A sense of urgency thumps through my veins. I wander over to a corner, lean against the wall, out of the way, and check my phone.
“Expecting to hear from someone?” a hoarse voice asks, and I glance up to see Sylvie approaching. She grins and waggles her brows. “Bet I can guess who.”
Just as I’m about to reply, my phone vibrates. “Hey, just a sec. I want to take this in private,” I say. “You know anyplace I could go?”
She nods toward the door. “There’s a bathroom down the hall.”
“Thanks, I’ll find you later,” I say, and slip from the room.
18
I hurry down the hallway, my fingers fumbling across the buttons on my phone until I find the right one. “Hello,” I gasp.
“Hi. Is this Lily Winston?” The man’s voice is deep. Uncertain.
“Yes.” I duck into the small restroom, lock the door, and lean against it, out of breath.
“This is Jake Milano.”
Without warning, Iris rises up in me in such a dizzying spin that I have to reach out and grab the edge of the sink to keep from swaying. “Jake! Mr. Milano. I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”
“My mother told me that you’re Iris Marshall’s sister?”
“Yes. I am.”
A movement over the sink catches my attention. I look up to see my own reflection in the mirror, but for an instant I think I’m seeing Iris’s excited face staring back at me. You did it, I tell her. You led me to him.
“Um . . . this is . . . ,” Jake stammers. “I didn’t realize—”
“My sister passed away before I was born,” I break in, talking too fast. “But I only found out about her recently. For some reason, my parents never told me about Iris.”
“How did you know about me?”
“I was going through some of Dad’s things and I found a note that you’d written to Iris.”
After a long pause, he says, “My mother told me you’re seventeen.”
“That’s right.”
“Wow,” Jake says under his breath.
“I’m hoping you can answer some questions for me. My mother won’t talk about my sister. She won’t even admit that she and Dad ever lived in Massachusetts. I don’t have any idea why they changed their names and moved here after Iris died, or why they didn’t stay in touch with anyone in Winterhaven. Do you know?”
“I have an idea,” he says slowly. “But if we’re going to talk I need proof that you’re really her sister.”
A little defensive, I say, “But I am. Why would I make up something like that?”
“Don’t take offense. It’s just—” Jake breaks off, and when he speaks again, his voice is thick with sorrow. “Iris was my first love. I was only eighteen when she died, and I felt like I died, too. It took me a long time to move on. And now, all these years later, here you are, calling me. . . .”
“I understand,” I say, moved by his emotional response.
“I need to see you. Where do you live, Lily?”
“Silver Lake, Colorado.”
“I think I know where that is. I live in Nashville now. I can see about getting a plane ticket out there to meet you. Where’s the nearest airport to Silver Lake? Colorado Springs?”
“You’d come here?” I clench the phone tighter. “We’d have to be careful. My mom is so sensitive about Iris, and I don’t think she could handle seeing you.”
“I wouldn’t have to see her. We could meet somewhere in town. I can be there in a couple of days.”
“Wait. That won’t work. I forgot I’m leaving on a trip tonight with a friend.” I bite my thumbnail, thinking. “What if we meet you halfway?”
“Tonight?” he says with surprise. “You’re driving?”
“Yes. Do you know where the midpoint would be?”
“Oklahoma City, probably.” He pauses for two beats, then says, “I guess I could do that.”
“Great!” I blurt out, nervous and thrilled at once.
“I can throw some things together and leave in a couple of hours, I suppose.”
“How long do you think it’ll take you to get there?” I ask.
“If Silver Lake’s where I think it is, you should make it in around eight hours. It’ll be a bit longer for me, but close enough.”
His easy agreement to drive that distance tonight makes me realize Jake is as anxious as I am to meet. I’m glad that Ty will be with me. I can’t imagine he won’t agree to make the stop.
“I have your number in my phone,” I say. “We could stay in touch along the way and decide on a meeting place once we’re there.”
“Okay, Lily. I’ll see you soon.”
I tell him good-bye, then before he can break the connection, say, “Jake? Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” With a half laugh, he adds, “This is nuts, you know. If I’d known I was going to be driving all night, I would’ve taken a nap after work.”
I laugh, too. “Yeah, it’s sort of unexpected.”
“I have one other request.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Drive safely, Lily.”
I smile. “You, too.”
See you soon, whispers Iris. I’ve waited so long.
After breaking the connection, I hear a tap at the door.
“Hey, Lily. You in there?” Sylvie rasps. “The Goob sent me to look for you.”
“Yeah, just a sec.” I open the door a crack and peek out. “Anybody else out there?”
“Nope.”
I let Sylvie in and lock up again. “I’m not ready to see Wyatt yet.”
“Don’t wait too long. He’s wondering where you are.” Sylvie looks at herself in the mirror, wrinkles her nose, bares her teeth, and rubs her finger across them. She points at her pink hair. “What do you think? Should I have gone with green? Or maybe kept it black and put a white stripe down the center?”
“Like a skunk?” I ask, glad she showed up when she did so I won’t dwell too much on my nervousness.
“Yeah, like a skunk. Why not?”
“Wyatt told me once that moufette means ‘skunk’ in French. Knowing Wyatt, he’d start calling you that, and you don’t look like a Moufette to me.”
With a bad French accent Sylvie flutters her eyelashes and mutters, “Ooh-la-la, Moufette.” She faces me and frowns. “Good point. I’ll stick with pink.”
“Will you tell Wyatt that I’ll be out in a few minutes? Tell him I have a stomachache or something.”
“Do I have a sign on my forehead that says ‘personal messenger’? Sheesh.” Turning, Sylvie reaches for the doorknob.
“Wait.” I grab her wrist. “Come back after. I might need your help.”
She arches her silver-studded eyebrow. “Now I’m intrigued. What have you been doing in here?” Holding up a hand, she adds, “If it’s gross, I don’t wanna know.”
“I was on the phone.”
“Mister Intense?” Sylvie purses her lips and makes a smooching sound.
I roll my eyes. “No, someone else.”
“You’re juggling three guys now?” She looks impressed.
Making a face at her, I say, “He used to be my sister’s boyfri
end. He must be, like, thirty-six years old.”
“You have a sister?”
“Will you just go?” I give her a little shove. “I’ll explain later.”
While she’s gone, I call Ty and tell him about the conversation with Jake. He’s willing to take me to Oklahoma City, and he’s ready to go whenever I am—he already picked up the violin.
I tell Ty to be here in twenty minutes and to park on the street behind the activity center. Then I put my phone in my pocket. Sitting down on the toilet, I bury my face in my hands. “Mom . . . Wyatt . . . please don’t hate me,” I whisper.
A few minutes later, Sylvie returns after buying me some time with Wyatt. She turns on the air vent, then sits on the sink and smokes, apparently unafraid of getting caught. Giving me her full attention, she listens while I lean against the wall and explain that I need to sneak out and meet Ty, and that we’re leaving town for a few days, at least. She asks a million questions, but I tell her I’ll have to give her the full rundown after I return to Silver Lake. If I tell her now and think too much about what I’m about to do, I’m afraid I might back out, and I can’t do that.
“But how will you get back?” Sylvie asks, tapping ashes into the sink.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead. Ty might be able to bring me. If not, I have enough money for a bus ticket.” The acrid scent of the smoke gets to me. Coughing, I wave a hand in front of my face.
“Are you sure he’s safe?” She squints at me. “I’d be on a permanent guilt trip if he hacked you up and dumped the pieces into some lake.”
“Have you been talking to Wyatt?” I ask with a laugh. “You can relax. I trust Ty one hundred percent.”
Blowing a smoke ring toward the ceiling vent, Sylvie says, “Go have some fun, then. You haven’t had enough of it. What do you need me to do?”
“If you want to help, you’ll have to leave the party and stay gone for a while.” I bite my lip.
“Not a problem. This party’s lame, anyway. I’ve got better places to be.”
I grin at Sylvie and look into her kohl-smudged eyes. “We’ve got to hang out more after I come home.”
The Shadow Girl Page 20
