She wipes her face dry and stares at me.
“I’m going to go back to my real life for a while, okay? I’ll come back at Christmas,” I say, as if this will make it better. “Your dad’s going to be okay,” I say, as if this justifies my leaving.
She finds her voice, but it’s low and quiet and I have to strain to hear her. “Please stay.”
Before she can say another word, I take two steps back until I feel the corner of the building behind me, and without even caring who might be watching, I close my eyes and disappear.
December 2012
33
San Francisco, California
I spent the whole drive over here psyching myself up for my performance, but once I walked through Megan’s front door it all sort of clicked on its own. It could have been the loud music or the underlying buzz of conversation that carried from one packed room to the next, but whatever it was, I was grateful. I stood in the entryway, looked around, and sucked in the intoxicating scent of holiday cheer and out-of-town parents. I reminded myself that I didn’t have to genuinely enjoy being at this party; I just had to play the part.
Now I’m all smiles and backslaps, quick one-liners and snappy comebacks, acting so out of character of late that when Sam sees me, he shoots me this Who the hell are you right now look. I may suck as a superhero, but as it turns out, I’m a fairly decent actor.
“You’re certainly chipper tonight.” Of all people, I would have expected Brooke to see through me, but she must not, because I can hear the bitterness in her voice.
“I am,” I lie. “And I’m going to stay in a good mood because it’s Christmas vacation and you’re home from school and I’m surrounded by good friends and I’m tired of feeling like shit.” I smile and take a sip of my drink. “I’m done. From here on out, I’m living in the moment.” I raise my glass in the air, toasting no one in particular.
“You were pretty upset last night.” I look around at the guys to be sure no one overheard her, but I realize it’s impossible. I can barely hear her over the music.
I lean in close. “Well then, last night marked the end of my wallowing.”
Brooke looks at me and slowly shakes her head. After my parents and I picked her up from the airport last night, the two of us sat in my room talking for a long time. Then I made the mistake of showing her Anna’s photo album. We got about halfway through when I had to leave the room, and while she was flipping through pages, I was in the bathroom trying not to hurl. I returned with my eyes burning and my cheeks feeling hot, took the photo book out of her grasp, and smashed it back in the drawer. She never got to see the last picture.
“No offense,” Brooke says as she taps away on her phone, “but I’m not sure how much longer I can stand this high school party. Kathryn just texted me to see if I wanted to do something, but—” She looks up at me and stops talking.
“But?”
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “I guess I just thought you might need me around tonight, but you seem to be doing just fine, so…” She trails off, looking around the room. “I’m going to go outside and call her. See what’s up.”
Brooke walks away and I spot Sam and Lindsey hanging out by the fireplace. I’m just about to head over there when the room goes dark.
“Merry Christmas,” a voice whispers in my ear. I pull a pair of hands away from my face and turn around. Megan’s standing there wearing a red dress and a big grin. She pops one hip.
“It’s about time you made it to one of my parties.” She holds her arms out wide, palms up, and looks around the room. “See, now aren’t you sorry you didn’t get to one of these earlier?”
I smile and give her an exaggerated nod. “Truly devastated. I had no idea what I was missing.”
“Right?” She keeps coming in closer, shouting to be heard above the music. “And now your life is complete.” She rests her hand on my arm and lets it linger there a little too long. When I instinctively take a step back, she gets the hint and lets it drop.
“So, what are you doing over vacation?”
I shrug. “People keep asking me that, but I don’t think I have a very good answer.”
She tilts her head to one side. “What’s your answer?”
“Hanging out,” I say definitively, crossing my arms like I’m proud of myself for being so aimless. Megan shakes her head as if she’s actually disappointed in me and I shrug. “See what I mean? I’m not shooting very high.”
“No, not so much.”
I think about the only plan I have. The one I can’t tell her or Sam or Brooke or anyone else about. The plan I do not want to think about right now.
“Bennett?” Megan is using a singsong voice, waving her hand back and forth in front of my face. “You still here?” she asks.
I blink fast. “Yeah. I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I said that I’m just hanging out too.” She looks down at the ground for a moment, and locks her eyes on mine. “I said, ‘Maybe we could hang out together?’”
I don’t say anything at first and Megan stares at me, eyebrows raised, expression hopeful, while I consider her suggestion. It’s not like I know her that much better than I did at the end of last summer, but I think back to the words I said to Sam in the park that day and feel a little bad about my response. Megan’s nice. She’s pretty. And from what I’ve learned about her over the last few months, she’s not at all vacuous. Besides, Lindsey’s incredibly cool and she likes her. I don’t know, maybe it’s time for me to find a “four of us” that exists in 2012 and not in 1995.
“Maybe,” I tell her.
Then we hear a crash in the distance, coming from the kitchen. “Uh-oh, that did not sound good. I’d better go find out what broke.” She brushes my arm again and says, “See you,” before she heads off, pushing past people, fighting her way out of the room.
As soon as she’s gone, my stomach clenches. I don’t want Megan and I don’t want another four of us. I want Anna. Here. Now. So I don’t have to wake up tomorrow morning with my chest hurting and my mind all fuzzy, or go to sleep tonight feeling sick because I can’t stop picturing that horrible look on her face the last time I saw her.
“Kathryn’s on her way.” I look up and see Brooke in front of me, her thumbs still tapping against the glass on her phone. “I think we’re going to—” She stops cold when she sees me, hand clenched at my forehead, my face turning redder by the second. “What happened?”
I need to get out of here. I need air.
“Do you want to go?” she asks, looking me square in the eyes, and I nod quickly.
Even though it’s winter, I still haven’t put the soft top back on the Jeep. I’ve been driving around a lot this way over the last month: top down, cold wind, tunes loud, heat cranked. I maneuver out of the parking space I found a few blocks from Megan’s house and drive away.
“Do you want to talk—” she begins and I cut her off with a curt, “No.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brooke’s thumbs flying across the screen, and I can only assume she’s texting Kathryn with her change of plans. I wonder if she’s got a cover story or if she’s texting her the truth: Bro’s a wreck. Need to stay.
Her attention must move from texting to music, because as I crest over the next hill, she asks, “How about Coldplay on random shuffle?” It comes out like it’s a question, but when Brooke’s in the car, I rarely get any say in the music anyway. Not that it matters. I couldn’t care less what we listen to, as long as it keeps her from feeling like the silence is uncomfortable and it’s up to her to fill the void.