If Governor Ward had kept his promise, it would have made stealing the plans worth it. I’d believed him when he said he would. But the governor was also a shady guy. Clearly. Our former mayor was now an executive at the waterfront redevelopment corporation. I hadn’t ever heard anything about those graves, where they were supposedly being moved to. There was no way for me to check.
I walked down to the water. There were kids playing there, their faces painted like different animals. A game of tag was in progress. They used me as a block. A girl with tiger cheeks was after a boy with bird feathers. He darted behind a shed and she ran for him, pounding the ground in a circle.
The shed, it hit me, looked exactly like the one Levi had opened when he and I paddled out to the Aberdeen movie theater.
What if I could prove to Levi that he did matter to me? He’d pretended not to care what happened to his mom’s grave, but I knew deep down that was bullcrap. Self-preserving bullcrap, which I was the queen of.
I had to see if Governor Ward had kept his word, even though I’d already lost everything.
The graveyard was on a hill. There was a chance the water hadn’t covered it yet. I could see if it had been dug up. It he kept his word, it would be a field of holes.
I had to try.
While the little kids stopped and stared, I opened up the shed and dragged out a kayak from the racks inside. Then I climbed in and pushed off from the water’s edge. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, lifted up a paddle, and started to row furiously from the shore.
Police were all around the festivities, likely hoping to stave off any last-minute protests, but no one seemed to be on the water. At least not in the direction I was paddling in—away from the dam and toward what I hoped was Aberdeen.
It had to have taken an hour. Maybe two. I heard the band still playing in the distance, but I was far out of sight of anyone who might be onshore. I floated by a few houses that hadn’t been torn down. I looked up to the hill, hoping to see my house, but I couldn’t. It was too misty.
I was suddenly faced with this sense of doubt. If I did find out that the bodies hadn’t been moved, what would I tell Levi? Should I lie, to protect him?
It didn’t matter. I just needed to do it. To free whatever it was.
I paddled harder.
I thought I might be close to the cemetery when I saw another kayak off in the distance. I was caught. I tried to paddle hard away, but by that time, my arms were barely functioning and the effort was pathetic.
The kayak closed the distance on me fast. I knew it was fruitless. I threw my arms up in the air, like, Arrest me. And then I saw.
It was Levi. I think he was almost as shocked to see me as I was to see him.
“Keeley, what the hell are you doing here?”
He looked tired. He’d let his hair grow in some. Not much, but long enough for it to be matted from bedhead. It was a soft, velvety shade of brown.
“Levi! I was coming to make sure they’d done the right thing.” Our kayaks drifted slowly toward each other. It was so quiet. Just Levi and me, floating on top of what had been our home.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked him. “Does your dad know you’re back? I just talked to him, I asked him about you.”
“No. He has no clue. I had no plans to be here, actually. But last night, I don’t know. I got in the car and started driving. Ten hours later . . . I made it.” He shook his head. I think he was still in shock. “I came here for you, Keeley. I just didn’t think you’d be here.”
“I don’t understand.” How could Levi be here for me and also think I wouldn’t be here?
He took a deep breath. “I was so mad at you when you stole that map from my dad, I purposely didn’t tell you something very important.”
“What?”
“When I was in Morgan’s house, I saw that she had left something for you.”
“Oh my God . . .” I remembered Levi asking me to come inside and see something. “What? What was it?”
“It was an envelope with your name on it.”
Probably with a good-bye letter, a list of the reasons why she didn’t want to be my friend anymore. But even if that was it, it would give me some closure. “Did you read it? What did it say?”
“No. I left it all where I found it. In the middle of the floor. I was going to tell you about it when you came over that night. But then everything happened and . . . it was a way for me to hurt you back.”
“Well . . . It’s probably gone now.”
“There’s still a chance. Before I left town, I checked to see if you found it. When I saw it still on the floor, I stuck it inside a Ziploc bag and taped it to one of the blades of her ceiling fan.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I didn’t really want to get involved, but I figured that would buy you more time.”
“Except I didn’t know there was anything to find, Levi! I haven’t talked to Morgan once, not once.”
“I was afraid of that,” he said shamefully. “That’s why I came.”
Our kayaks began to float away from each other, so Levi leaned forward and grabbed the nose of my kayak and pulled it so we were bobbing side by side. “Even though I hate what you did, I can’t pretend that I’m someone who could live with that on my conscience. That’s not who I am. I know how much Morgan means to you. So I drove all night. I thought I’d at least try and get that letter for you.” His eyes fell. “But I’ve been out here paddling around for hours now, looking. I’m pretty sure her house has gone under.”
Tears slipped from my eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for trying. That’s more than I deserved, Levi.”
He asked me, “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to make sure Governor Ward kept his promise and moved the bodies. Except I can’t find the graveyard. I have no idea what part of town we’re floating over.” But the truth was, I couldn’t look away from Levi.
“He did,” Levi said. “My dad made sure of that.” His head dropped ever so slightly to the side. “But I don’t think he would have if it not for you.”
We bobbed up and down in our kayaks. We were completely adrift. But eventually we’d have to go.
“Keeley, why are you crying?”
“Because I’ve lost Morgan, I’ve lost Aberdeen. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Every time I thought about you, Keeley, I felt sad.”
Hearing that broke my heart.
“But now that you’re here, sad is the furthest thing from what I feel. I don’t want to let you go either. Not if I don’t have to.”
Levi leaned across his kayak, and I leaned too. He kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.
I think we would have kissed each other forever if we hadn’t been interrupted. But someone shouted, “Put your hands up!”
We both turned and looked. Three police boats were motoring toward us. Sherriff Hamrick was in one of them and he looked madder than mad.
Levi took my hand in his. I knew he wasn’t going to let me go. Not in the way that mattered. And I wouldn’t either.
And then I see it taped to the fan. Just as Levi said it would be. An envelope inside a Ziploc bag.
“Someone went through a heck of a lot of effort to leave this for you,” he says, rubbing his chin. “A couple hours later and we’d have been too late.”
“It was Levi,” I say, my cheeks burning.
“My son did this?”
I nod. “And I’ll be forever grateful that he did. Because if I ever had a chance at finding closure, it’s right there.”
Sheriff Hamrick clicks his flashlight off, and for a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything. Meanwhile, I try to figure out how the heck I’m going to get it.
Then the boat begins to rock, as Sheriff Hamrick jimmies the attic window open, and when he does, a rush of water pours into Morgan’s bedroom. He puts on a life vest and swims inside. I grab the flashlight and aim the beam steady on the fan so he can see. Bobbing in
the water, he carefully cuts down the package with a knife and swims it back to me between his teeth.
“I hope this helps you,” he says, as he climbs back into the boat. And then he angles himself as he dries off, to give me some privacy.
Dear Keeley,
You probably won’t ever get this letter. That’s fine. I’m not sure you’re ready to hear what I have to say anyway. But I need to get this out before leaving Aberdeen for good. So here goes . . .
I was awake last night when you climbed out of my bed. I heard you rummaging through my stuff. I knew you wouldn’t find what you were after. The sticker book, obviously. I’d already thrown it away.
It wasn’t even hard to do, because that’s all it was, Keeley. Just a sticker book.
The double unicorn . . . I still can’t believe you found one. And there was a second, when you showed it to me, where I wished that it would magically fix everything.
Only I knew it wouldn’t, because of Wes. Keeping his presents didn’t make losing him any easier. Ignoring that I missed him didn’t make it hurt any less. Pretending I wasn’t in love with him didn’t make him disappear from my heart.
You’ve been going through a lot, too. I know that. With Jesse and with your family. You couldn’t talk to me, or you didn’t want to. Either way, I felt guilty for not being the best friend you needed. And also that I needed people other than you.
Last night I said that I want to believe we have a future, but that it’s hard to see it now. We’ve both got things we need to let go of . . . hurt and bad feelings and this idea that the way our friendship used to be is the only way it ever could be. Throwing that sticker book away was a step in the right direction. Our friendship wasn’t working anymore and I don’t want to hold on to the past. The past is bringing us down.
You need to take those steps too, Keeley. To figure out who you are outside of our friendship, away from Aberdeen.
The next time I see you, it will be someplace else. I think that’s good. It’ll be easier for us to make new memories. Because even though it’s hard to see the future right now, it’s harder for me to imagine that you won’t be in it. I just need a little time. And so do you.
Love,
Morgan
I’m crying when I look up from her letter.
Not because our sticker book is gone forever. Or for all the things lost underneath the water. My tears are ones of relief, because I can finally see the new beginnings all around me.
Acknowledgments
Zareen Jaffery is the kind of editor who answers brainstorm texts after midnight, who always finds more time in the schedule, who shares her own personal anecdotes knowing you’ll steal them for the perfect plot device, who’ll drop everything to read pages you’re unsure about, even on the weekends. In other words, there is no better editor in the business than Zareen Jaffery and I am infinitely grateful to be working with her.
I am also lucky to have found a home for this book with the terrific team at Simon & Schuster, all-stars including but not limited to Justin Chanda, Anne Zafian, Chrissy Noh, Katy Hershberger, Mekisha Telfer, and designer Lucy Cummins, who created my beautiful cover.
My agent, Emily van Beek of Folio Junior, thank you for being my fiercest advocate long before I had a book to fight for.
Jenny Han is my best friend and first reader, the Danny to my Kenickie.
Much love to friends who read and gave invaluable input—Adele Griffin, Jill Dembowski, Brenna Heaps, Emmy Widener, Morgan Matson, Lynn Weingarten, and Brenna Vivian.
Thanks to Dan Silianoff for the dam knowledge and Mark Flaherty for the legalese. And to Ashley Andrykovitch, for the painting that started it all.
Lastly, to Nick Caruso, Irene Vivian, Harry Vivian, Asiya Jaleel, Kristen Cibak and Molly Boswell Caruso, thank you for keeping my real life in order while I was busy making up an imaginary one.
© Janelle Bendycki
SIOBHAN VIVIAN is the author of the young adult novel The List, as well as Not That Kind of Girl, Same Difference, and A Little Friendly Advice. She co-wrote the Burn for Burn trilogy with Jenny Han. She currently teaches creative writing at the University of Pittsburgh. Visit her at siobhanvivian.com.
VISIT US AT
simonandschuster.com/teen
authors.simonandschuster.com/Siobhan-Vivian
Also by Siobhan Vivian
The List
Not That Kind of Girl
Same Difference
A Little Friendly Advice
Cowritten with Jenny Han
Burn for Burn
Fire with Fire
Ashes to Ashes
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An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2016 by Siobhan Vivian
Jacket illustration and design by Lucy Ruth Cummins
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Interior design by Hilary Zarycky
The text for this book is set in Adobe Garamond Pro.
CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress.
ISBN 978-1-4814-5229-8
ISBN 978-1-4814-5231-1 (eBook)
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About Siobhan Vivian
Siobhan Vivian, The Last Boy and Girl in the World
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