“Of course, I’m not the same!” I shouted. “Are any of us?”
“I’m tired of this! I don’t know how to talk to you without making you mad!”
“I’m not mad! I’m defending myself!”
“That’s what you always say,” she informed me.
“I didn’t realize you were the expert on all things to do with my life. You know, I like my therapist, but it sounds like you’ve got me all figured out. Maybe I should start going to you instead. Save Mom and Dad a few bucks. Maybe you can be my camp counselor too. Something tells me you’d love that.”
“Olivia, I’m just being your big sister. Will you ever let me be that?”
I was a lion, I reminded myself. I had a mane, hidden away. I had razor-sharp teeth that could clamp down on Aidy’s flesh and leave a mark that would never fade away. I buried my nails into my palms, trying to latch onto a different kind of hurt. “You’re obviously an expert on relationships. Anyone with two eyes can see the love between you and Harrison,” I said. Despite my best efforts not to bite, I was weak. If I didn’t get a pass with Nick, she didn’t get one with Harrison.
Aidy whispered something indecipherable. From her face, I could see it was a concession.
I collapsed onto the grass in front of the tunnel, overwhelmed. It would always hit me all at once, and never when I expected. The world shrank until everything around me became small, and I remained the same size. I didn’t fit.
The dark calmed me best, but I was out in the open, under the sun’s constant observation. I focused only on my breath and my body, watching my rib cage expand. I released the air that filled my lungs in the slowest, steadiest stream manageable. Over and over I did nothing but breathe. My breath became paintings, poetry. People. Sound. Whatever it needed to be to return the world around me to its proper proportions. It would be too much to tell Aidy I was okay. To embrace my own falsity.
Once the world had halfway restored itself, I tried to apologize, but couldn’t find words beyond the generic “I’m sorry” I shelled out to everyone. She deserved more from me.
“I’m sorry too,” she said back. “We’re not so good at this.” After a beat, she said, “I don’t know if I love Harrison enough,” once again letting me win.
She was always being my big sister. It amazed me she couldn’t see that.
“I know,” I told her, my voice dry and unpracticed. I said it not to be mean, but to let her know she carried the loss of her relationship as I carried Marley. Invisible to everyone who didn’t know how to look. Painfully obvious to those of us that did.
“He’s every part of my life. He’s Cadence. He’s college. At this point, we’re basically one person.”
She was nearly a foot taller than me. Her hair was more like Dad’s, but with Mom’s coloring—soft curls in an incredible shade of red that made strangers stop her on the street. My hair was more like Mom’s, but with Dad’s coloring—that weird texture between wavy and straight, all a shade of walnut brown. We didn’t need to look alike to resemble one another. I knew what it was to be unable to escape someone.
There was a safe way to play out our conversation. I could’ve fed her the lines I’d conditioned myself to say. Something like, “You need to do what’s right for you,” or, “All that matters is that you’re happy,” but I wanted to tell her something authentic, which I hoped she’d know was the rarest gift I had to give. I dug around inside my thoughts until I found a truth I believed. “When you’re locked in a room with no exit, rearrange the furniture.”
She looked at me with a curious squint. “You’re too old to be sixteen,” she told me.
“I was born too old,” I said back.
July 11
Five Years Prior
Marley jumped off the bed and sauntered toward Nick, wrapping his stubby fingers around the black metal. “Officer Cline, I’m so sorry that I’ve been causing trouble,” she purred.
“How did you get this?” Nick asked.
“Guess my dad forgot it.”
Marley maneuvered Nick’s fingers until he was holding the object properly. It was foreign in his unskilled hands. Crude. He fidgeted as Marley positioned the tip to point at her.
“Don’t let it touch me!” she yelled. She reached for one of her parents’ decorative pillows and held it over her chest. “Okay, try again.”
“This is a bad idea,” I mumbled. Marley’s dad was the most intimidating person I’d ever met. I figured he would have no problem arresting me just for looking at his misplaced weapon.
“Yeah. I don’t wanna do this,” Nick said.
“Oh, you’re fine,” Marley told him, guiding the gun back to her pillow-covered gut. “You know how Ollie is.” She flashed her most mischievous, cutting smile. “Pull the trigger. Nothing’s gonna happen.”
I pouted to myself, contemplating my next move. Marley was playing a game of chicken with Nick and me. Testing us because we were the youngest. We couldn’t cave.
My frustration bubbled up into my cheeks. And then, of course, my eyes. Reluctant tears only made me angrier. Indignant, I tried to let my stare burn holes through the pillow Marley held.
Its casing was golden, much like her parents’ bedding, with flowers embroidered in the same delicate shade. Each detail was so subtle that you had to be up close to notice, particularly the flaxen petals of the roses, which seemed to be spun from strands of Marley’s hair. She held the pillow over her body so casually, her eyebrows raised into impish arches, no mind to the contempt I lasered at her. Only serenity. She knew she’d won.
She always won.
Then, like the unexpected clap of a firework on the fifth of July, or the startling pop of a blown-out tire, a heavy, booming sound shocked me like I’d touched an electric current.
Marley collapsed with a resounding thud, landing in the fetal position atop a decorative rug. Viscous red liquid poured out from a hole in the pillow, saturating every texture around her rag-doll body.
11
Full on the promise we’d be better to each other, Aidy and I walked back up the bowl. Ruby still sat on the swing. She twisted side to side to let herself spin. Harrison stood nearby, staring at his phone. Nick squatted on the edge of the playground, arms wrapped around his knees as he looked outwards.
It struck me then, the magnitude of what I’d already accomplished. I was no longer the tagalong sister fighting for some semblance of dominance. I had united these people. They were all waiting for me to come back before we continued with the Adventure.
Whether they liked it or not, I had become their leader.
1. Me (16 years old)
2. Aidy (19 years old)
3. Ruby (17 years old)
4. Teeny (18 years old)
5. Bigs (18 years old)
6. Harrison (19 years old)
7. Nick (16 years old)
Without the tension between us Stanton sisters, a new problem popped up. No one knew what to do about Nick. For five years Cadence had labeled him a pariah. As the only other person in the room the day Marley died, I guided that narrative more than I ever realized. I allowed Nick to have that title, just as I allowed it to be crossed out. The problem for everyone, including myself, was that I didn’t know with what to replace it.
Who was Nick Cline to me now?
Who was he to everyone?
It hurt me to watch him, but leaders had to do things they didn’t like. I was going to give my role everything I had. With each step made toward the playground, I stayed locked on his face, ticking down agonizing seconds.
Two nights before, we’d run down dark streets together, holding hands and screaming. That memory did not touch me. It stretched so far out of the realm of things I expected that it took on the hazy, warm film of a fantasy. It was the sight of him huddled up that wrecked me. Being an older version of the Nick Cline he’d always been.
The same Nick Cline who would’ve known how much it hurt me not to speak for five years.
I’d let the years between us float into the abstract, dazzled by the promise of adventure and the thrill of his surprise presence. That high had worn off. All that remained was the Olivia I’d become.
This newest Olivia Stanton, five years older and stronger and better, did not let people hurt her. She did not wait for apologies. She marched up to Nick and said, “Hey, stand up,” in a voice so harsh and firm it sounded almost cartoonish. “Apologize to everyone.”
In his head, Nick asked for what? then thought better of it, because after standing, he took a defensive step back, then two deliberate steps forward.
Once again, we circled around Ruby on the swing. This time, all attention fell to Nick. Uncomfortable as can be, he let his guard down for me to see he was sorry, so sorry, but he didn’t want to say it like this. Why hadn’t I let him say it the other night? Why did I need to make this so hard? His stare burned into the side of my face, desperate for my acknowledgment.
I leaned against the swing set to keep myself steady. “You don’t get to choose the easiest way for this to go,” I told him, like, I get it. I hear you.
“I…” He faltered.
“You left all of us behind. We would’ve been there for you,” I said.
Not that everyone was there for me either, but presenting a united front strengthened the illusion. Heat from his steady gaze crawled down my neck until red patches started to form along my collarbone.
“It didn’t seem like you wanted me around anymore,” he said.
To expel the fire burning my skin, I yelled, “You didn’t ask me!”
The younger neighborhood kids at the park stopped to stare.
“I…” he started again. He looked to Aidy. “I tried.”
“What do you mean?”
“I tried to talk to you, Ollie.”
“This is enough,” Aidy snapped. “Can you say the actual words, like she’s asking you to do? Do you have to make everything a whole thing?”
Nick nodded. “I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you guys.” His low, steady tone accentuated how ridiculous my previous yelling sounded. “I really am. I’ve missed you every single day. It just seemed too complicated… It doesn’t matter now. Know that I’m probably sorrier than it seems. I’m not great with this whole speech stuff. I can’t sleep most nights because of Marley and what happened to her.” He stopped. “What I did to her.”
I had to look up.
He bit his lip, hard, leaving the indent of his teeth on the pucker of skin above his chin. “If there are pieces of her she left behind, we need to find them. It might make life easier for us. Or maybe it makes it harder. It’s Marley. It probably makes it harder. I guess we don’t know yet. We’ve never finished one of her Adventures before. But I need something to change, because this way isn’t working so great. I’m the one person who didn’t know better. Everyone would’ve done things differently that day. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve run the moment through my head, making different choices. No matter how many times I do it, the end result is still the same. She dies.” His teeth pressed back into the imprints, freshening the marks. “If you need me to say sorry once an hour every hour until time runs out, I’ll do it, if it means I get to be around. Whatever I have to do, I’ll do. Even if that still makes me the only person in the world who doesn’t know better. At least I’m good at being that.”
I recognized what he was doing. So much so that I could barely breathe. He was me, spitting out the words the world required. Admitting complete defeat so the tables turned back onto the rest of us. It was the very art form I’d spent five years mastering. He proved how fine-tuned his skills were by being the one to push us forward. By carrying that burden too. “If that’s enough for all of you—I’m sure it’s not—but if it’s a start, then we should do what we came here to do. She always used to tell us that if we ever finished the Adventure, the prize we’d get would be amazing. I’ve been thinking about that nonstop. We need to go back into the tunnels. And find whatever’s in that box,” he said. “We deserve something good.”
His magic worked, of course. Charming in his perseverance, he finalized the removal of his outcast status. FORMER DISAPPOINTMENT EMBRACED BY OLD FRIENDS AFTER WELL-WORDED APOLOGY.
But he knew about Marley. He knew about pliable truths. He knew the Adventure was meant to be good, not cause more hurt.
Nick knew everything I knew.
When it came to feelings, that was a feeling I did not like.
Harrison was the first to soften. “I’m so sorry, man.” He patted Nick on the back. “Thanks for saying that. It was really big of you.” He bowed his head like the action could actually wipe the slate clean. “What do you think we should do first?” Not only did Harrison forgive Nick, he lent him my title, pushing Nick into a leadership role he had not earned. The destiny of a When rubbed right in my face.
Every piece of my being knew the whole thing angered me beyond reason, but I could do nothing to act on it. If at that exact second someone suggested I drop the entire Marley subject and go live under a pile of blankets forever, I’d have signed a lifelong contract in my blood. I could focus on nothing but the idea that Nick shared everything I considered unshareable. He knew she never left, but did he carry her too? How many Marleys existed now that she was gone?
By unanimous vote, the group decided to explore the tunnel first. Somehow, my left hand raised in agreement. It’s possible I even spoke. The world moved at a pace I couldn’t follow. Too fast and too slow and too up and too down. Nick suggested the box be opened when Bigs and Teeny were back from work. I agreed to that too.
We’ll wait because we’re one team, everyone else thought. Their synchronicity instilled faith that we were on the right track. That all internal trouble had been navigated. Suddenly I wasn’t even required to unite this group. They had Nick Cline, boy wonder.
He walked ahead. I ran around him. I went into the tunnel first. He pressed his hand into my back. Every move was attack or counter. Our battle was constant. I fought without thinking. Without hearing the guides I’d used to keep my life in check.
I made sure not to fall off the tunnel ledge again. Before Nick could even spot the drop-off, my legs stretched out and caught the ground. I hoped my grace did not go unnoticed. And wished for a memory that would never exist. “Remember that time Nick Cline fell?” I imagined asking Ruby. I’d have to use his full name because he’d be so far out of our lexicon that she’d need the reminder.
He didn’t fall, of course. He landed with the same lightness as me.
Similar, I told myself. We are not the same. He might’ve known about Marley, but he didn’t carry her, I decided. He wasn’t strong enough.
Daylight helped make the first part of the tunnels less ominous. It was still too dim to be comfortable, but not as unsettling as our last visit. “So, you found the letters and stuff in the sewer?” Harrison asked once we returned to the scene of the spray-painted message.
If only he noticed how little muscle contractions in my stomach betrayed me. It was hard to catch me in my own untruths. I was usually my only alibi. But of course Nick knew, because he seemed to exist solely to disrupt my entire self-image. So, to Harrison, I said, “Yep,” as a throwaway word, using it as a test for Nick. Agree with me and I’ll speak to you again. Give me back my power.
“All right here, all this time,” Nick told everyone. He sounded so wrapped up in the memory that even I believed him.
I had to continue the lie, to prove I was better at it. “Kind of incredible no one touched it.”
“Yeah, really. How was it not rained out?” Harrison asked, still oblivious. “We hardly ever get rain, but still. Five years is a long time.”
Lies worked best when hazy. Undetailed. I’d call inconsistencies to the forefront, all because of
Nick. He started to speak, prepared to cover for me, but I barreled over him with my liveliest, surest tone. “It was tucked into a dry little corner right before the drop-off. There’s this crevice you can’t really see. I was crawling in here for old times’ sake, I guess, and I touched it by accident. Not sure why I even thought to look further. Guess I had Marley on the mind because of the memorial, and I thought what would she do?”
Nick did not get to rescue me. He did not get a debt in his favor.
“Smart,” Harrison said. He turned his flashlight onto the wall. “You didn’t love me like I asked of you,” he read. “Still I love you back.”
“Whoa,” Aidy said, nearly breathless.
“Do you think that’s a clue?” Harrison asked.
“Well, yeah. And a pretty obvious one,” she answered, smug as ever.
I could feel her trying to shift the conversation toward whether or not Marley meant to die, so I took a risk. I reached into Harrison’s back pocket and yanked out his Marley letter. “Sorry, what was it your letter said again?”
“Hey! Give that back!” He snatched the paper from me. But my strategy worked. He started reading. “My clue says: The tunnel goes farther than we know. Walk until the dead man’s eyes see you leave.” He returned his letter to his back pocket, tucking it in with his wallet.
“Oh my God,” Ruby whispered to herself. “That guy they found dead down here. Remember that? He was holding his eyes in his hands.”
There was a collective shudder.
“The eyes were looking up,” I said.
The group was trained on me, waiting for more. I raised my eyebrows to coax the answer out of someone’s mouth.
When the Light Went Out Page 10
