“Maybe you didn’t give her enough of a chance.”
He laughs. “Now you sound like Anna.” He looks away when he says her name, and there’s something in his expression I can’t read.
I think about how many times I sat in San Francisco, remembering the months I spent in this town, and not only missing Anna, but Justin and Emma too. “I know you broke up, but would it be too much to ask for the four of us to go out while I’m in town this weekend?”
“Sure. We still hang out. We’re good friends.”
“But that’s it?” I ask. When I look over at Anna, I see the three of them heading our way.
Justin sees them too, and when he does, he looks down at the grass, suddenly bashful. “Yeah, that’s it. But I like her. A lot,” he says. “I always have.”
I watch as his gaze travels toward them, and for a second I wonder if he’s still talking about Emma.
Emma’s mom sidles up next to Anna and asks her if she’ll come inside and help with the cake, and I finally see my chance to get away from the party. Tracing the route Anna showed me earlier, I sneak past the food table and out toward the edge of the garden, under the fruit trees, through the wrought-iron gate, and deep into the backyard.
I follow the winding path that leads to the cement bench at the bottom and make my way over to the tiny gardening shed I noticed earlier. It’s angled into the corner and, while the squeeze is tighter than I expected, it works well enough. I close my eyes. When I open them, I’m back in my room at Maggie’s.
I work quickly. My red backpack is leaning up against my desk, and I fill it with a couple of shirts, a sweater, and a huge stack of cash from the cabinet. I check to be sure that my Illinois ID is in my wallet, and I add a few more bills in there for backup. I find the cardboard box I stuffed deep into the closet and remove the rest of the things Anna and I need: four plastic bottles of water, two bottles of Starbucks Frappuccino, and an unopened sleeve of saltines.
In the bathroom, I find that Maggie has now filled the drawers with me in mind. There’s a new tube of toothpaste, still in its box. Three toothbrushes in sealed plastic packages. A six-pack of disposable razors.
I head downstairs and call out to Maggie a few times, but there’s no reply, so I go to the desk, quickly scratch out new notes, and replace the ones I left earlier. I’m standing in the hallway, about to return to the party, when I have an idea. It’s a huge risk but I’m assuming that by now, everyone’s busy singing “Happy Birthday,” so I close my eyes and open them in a quiet corner of Emma’s bedroom. Right away, I spot Anna’s overnight bag on the floor by the bed. There’s plenty of room in my backpack, so I stuff the whole thing inside.
I close my eyes again picturing the tiny spot behind the shed in Emma’s backyard, and when I open them, I’m standing there. I drop my backpack, peek around the corner, and sneak back to the party.
“Cake?” Anna asks when I return to her side. My face still feels hot and my hands are shaking with nervous energy as I take the plate from her hand, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She sees a group of her cross-country friends and pulls me in their direction, saying that she wants me to get to know them better.
When the temperature begins to drop and the balloon arch has started sagging, the DJ announces his last song. I watch Emma leave the lawn, find Justin, and pull him out to the makeshift dance floor with her. He says something and she throws her head back as she laughs. She stands on her tiptoes, kisses his cheek, and puts her birthday cake hat on his head. He tries to give it back, but she keeps pulling it down over his eyes.
I nudge Anna with my elbow and subtly gesture toward the two of them. “That’s interesting.”
Anna follows my gaze and then looks back at me wearing a huge smile. “Yes it is.”
Now Justin is dancing. Like, actually dancing. He’s jumping up and down and grabbing Emma around the waist, and she’s smiling like this is the best birthday she’s ever had.
When I look over at Anna, she’s still watching her two best friends, and I wonder if she’s thinking about what we did that day. I wonder if she looks at them the same way I do, knowing that they should be together and feeling responsible for the fact that they aren’t. But suddenly, Emma and Justin disappear from my thoughts, and now I’m looking at her and all I can think about is the backpack stuffed behind the gardening shed at the bottom of the hill. Without meaning to, I let a small laugh slip out under my breath.
That gets her attention. “What?” she asks. There’s this lilt in her voice, like she wants to know but at the same time she’s a little bit afraid to.
“You had something to tell me,” I say, fighting a grin.
She presses her lips together and takes a sharp inhale. “I did, yeah, I—” She starts to finish her sentence but I cut her off.
I push her hair back from her face and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Go say good-bye to Emma and meet me in the garden in ten minutes…where we were earlier. Don’t let anyone see you.”
Anna looks puzzled at first, but as she watches me, her mouth turns up at the corners and she nods without asking any questions. I turn and walk away from her, and for the third time tonight I follow the path until I reach the bottom of the garden. I wrestle my backpack out from behind the shed.
I pace the ground. I sit on the bench and stand up again. I examine the Buddha statue. Finally I see Anna’s face peek out from behind the trees. The latch on the wrought-iron gate clicks and I hear it squeak open and closed.
Her feet crunch on the gravel as she winds down the path, and she stops when she finds me in the shadows, leaning up against the shed.
“Why are we down here?” she asks, and without saying a word, I step forward, wrap my fingers around the back of her neck, and kiss her. I can feel her smiling as she lets go of all her questions, parts her lips, and kisses me back. She tastes like cake.
Her hands settle on my hips and as she kisses me harder; her fingers creep under my shirt and up my back. I’m starting to wonder if we’ll ever be able to get out of here, when she whispers, “Why are you wearing your backpack?”
I kiss her again. “Give me your hands.”
She’s breathing hard. “Why?” she asks, but doesn’t hesitate for even a second. I can already feel her fingers sliding back down to my waist, feeling for my arms, following the bend in my elbow until they find their home in my hands.
Hers are shaking with anticipation or nerves or a combination of the two, and I take them, the whole time never letting her lips leave mine. All I can think about right now is that I’m so grateful for this crazy gift I possess; that I can take her away with me, just for a little while, disappearing completely into a faraway place where there’s no people or voices in the background, and no one looks even vaguely familiar to either one of us.
Her eyes are already closed. I pull her hands behind my back, our fingers still locked, still connecting us, and I keep her body pressed into mine as I picture our destination.
I close my eyes.
And we disappear.
15
I open my eyes in a secluded area I found a few years ago when Brooke and I came here for a U2 concert in ’97. Anna’s hands are still locked behind my back and she’s smiling, lids tightly shut, waiting for me to speak.
“We’re here,” I say. “Open your eyes.” As soon as I say the words, my heart starts pumping hard.
I take a look around, but there’s not much to see yet. Until we get out from behind this shrub, we could be anywhere. I follow Anna’s gaze as she takes in the chain-link fences and the back windows along a line of similar-looking houses. She runs her toe across the gravel underneath our feet, like she’s trying hard to piece it all together. There’s hardly any light back here, but I can still make out the baffled expression she’s wearing as she turns slowly in place. And then she looks up, beyond the shrubs, and sees the tower, its iron beams lit up with so many lights it looks like it’s made of gold. She covers her mouth with her hand and laughs.