I hear him swallow. “He told me you’d like it.”
Now I do look at Taylor. The road to school is busy.
We’re only a few blocks away.
“I do like it,” I say. “But it reminds me too much of him.”
We look at each other. The space between us feels so huge. Someone beeps and Taylor, he doesn’t move. Just sits there. Then reaches across the distance to touch my face with his fingertips.
He walks me to study hall. Drops me off at the door.
Waits for me to look him in the eyes. But I can’t. I give him a one-armed hug and feel his lips in my hair, feel one hand on my hip bone.
“I don’t need a ride home,” I say. Then I hurry into class, stumbling on a bit of sand, maybe, as I go through the door.
No one talks to me.
They don’t even look my way.
There’s a death bubble around me and I know it. It’s a thin film, one that only I can see through, and I have proof no one can see me, because they never look in my direction
and I refuse to look in theirs.
As soon as I sit down, I wish I were with Taylor again, riding to school or to the beach or to Tallahassee even, my eyes closed, smelling my brother all around me.
It’s that afternoon, in English class when Jesse walks past with Lauren on his arm, looking so fine I want to slug Lauren right in the face, it’s that afternoon that I start talking to Zach.
Just in my head.
Maybe my lips move.
But no one talks to me.
Except maybe Lili if I would let her.
And Taylor, with his Zach smell.
“Zach? Zach? How are you? Are you there?”
He doesn’t answer, and for a moment, sitting in that hard desk chair, watching Lauren kiss Jesse full on the mouth until Mrs. Pray tells her to stop or else, I miss my brother so much that I think I feel my heart is still split wide open.
I remember how Daddy said, “Jesus died of a broken heart.”
And I think I know how that feels.
Right after he was gone, when we knew he was really gone, and we all stood with Zach as he died a second time, I thought I’d crawl right out of my skin with grief.
(Mom was done talking to me by then, had already screamed at me there in the hospital until a nurse asked her to quiet down.)
At home, I’d run to my room and cried out to Jesus.
There would be no Lazarus miracle here. I knew that.
But
there was a pause in my grief
as I felt my brother edge his way into my room
like he had so many times before
and come up close to me.
I waited
quiet
afraid to move
like I might chase him away if I turned.
I could smell his aftershave, and I knew he was there to
let me know he was okay.
That visit? It was real. I swear it.
But that visit wasn’t enough.
I want more.
I want him back.
Why does death have to be so final?
I want to scream my question
pound at God’s door
demand an answer
ask Him to forgive me
if I’ve done something wrong
and then give my brother another chance.
Taylor tries three times to take me home that afternoon, but I cannot do it.
“I’ll walk,” I say.
“It’s too far, London.”
“Not really.”
We’re in the parking lot. Cars are everywhere. Driving away. Beeping at one another. The cool air smells of exhaust.
The noise makes me nervous, shaky. Maybe Mom’s silence has made me more sensitive.
Taylor puts his hand on my arm, and some kid leans out a window and hollers, “Just say yes!”
I panic. Want to run. Want to get away. And so I do. I rush right past Taylor, right in front of a car that almost hits me.
“Stupid bitch!” The passenger screams the words, but I don’t stop moving until I’m stopped by the crowd of students leaving C wing.
“London?” Taylor is close behind. I can hear him. He grabs the sleeve of my jacket. “Please.”
I see Lili then. She’s coming out of the double doors just down from where we are. She waves, her face breaking into a tentative smile.
I’d smile back if I could.
“She’s taking me home,” I tell Taylor. “I can’t ride with you.” I don’t even look at him. I start toward Lili, whose smile grows a bit bigger, though she looks behind herself
once.
Taylor grabs my arm. Turns me toward him. “What did I do, London? What?”
I feel a hand on my throat and realize with a start it’s my own. I glance up at him. “You smell too much like my brother.” Then I walk away, even when he says, “I can change that.”
“That guy is hot,” Lili says. “And he’s still watching you.”
I shrug. “I told him you’d take me home,” I say. “Just nod like you agree.”
“We can so do that,” Lili says, sweeping her dark hair over her shoulder with one hand then giving Taylor a thumbs-up sign. “Where do you live?”
“You don’t have to really,” I say. Someone bumps into me, knocking the notebooks from my hands. I don’t even have the energy to pick them up. I’m not even sure I can squat to gather these spilled things. I’m lucky that the crowd has thinned or I’d get trampled. Why am I so tired? All-the-time tired. Lili helps, grabs stuff up, hands it all to me. She’s the only girl in the whole school dressed in summer clothes. What will she wear when it warms up around here? Nothing?
“Let’s go.” She’s got on one big smile. Her face is so happy. I feel guilty about this, too, for ignoring her. How can she even forgive me when my mother can’t?
“No, I just . . .”
“You just nothing,” she says. “You just need a ride. Come with us.”
I’m too tired to argue. And I need a ride. This once.
Next time I’ll walk. Or ride with Taylor. Or maybe call my mom. Ha!
We head down the sidewalk, passing Taylor, who watches me, and to the sidewalk.
“Gosh, he’s hot,” Lili says, like it’s an apology. We cross the parking lot, to the far corner where an old van sits.
“The Beast,” Lili says. And then, “Once we were at the mall in Utah and we stopped in the parking lot and this old lady climbed up inside our van like we were a bus or something.” Lili laughs, and I nod, because what else should I do?
She slides the side door open. “Gross!” she says, and she’s so disgusted I’m scared there must be some monster in the back. “I’m telling Mom if you don’t get your mackdown sessions under control.” Lili looks at me and rolls her eyes. “We’re taking London home.”
So I’m all about clichéd crap, right? And yet I don’t see this coming. Jesse, moving from the backseat, wiping lip gloss from his mouth. Lauren, coming up to the front, Jesse letting her hang on to the back of his shirt, then grabbing her hand and helping her to sit in the passenger seat.
Of freaking course.
All the way to my house, Lili chatters.
I don’t have to give directions, because Lauren knows the way. We were friends for a long time. I liked her.
I really did. Lots of people do. Guys, too. She reaches across the open space between her and Jesse, running her hands through his hair every once in a while, pointing the way to go, resting her hand on his thigh.
“Stop touching my brother in public,” Lili says, and I can tell she is not happy. “He may not care, but I do. And so does my family.”
She looks at me and mouths, “I can’t stand that girl.” I almost smile.
The truth is, I still like Lauren. I would like her better if she cared. But Lili doesn’t need to know that.
“Your brother’s a big boy,” Lauren says. “We’re just having fun.”
Jesse grins at Li
li.
“I live here,” I say as Lauren shouts, “Stop!”
The van screeches to a halt, and I open the door, taking the huge step to the ground. My house seems lonely sitting there, like its insides have spilled out. Can everyone tell?
“Thanks.” When I look up, Jesse stares at me and so does his sister. They’re practically twins. I can see that they are related, though I have no idea how I didn’t notice this before. “Thanks,” I say again.
Lili leaps out of the van, hitting the ground with a thump in the gravel. “Now that I know where you live, we can hang out,” she says. “We don’t live so far from here. Want us to pick you up on the way to school in the morning?”
I don’t say anything. Think how I should ride with Taylor because that’s the right thing but know that I won’t. Not now. Not right now.
“Taylor’s back, isn’t he?” Lauren says. “You know he dropped Heather.” When I look at her, the sun seems to have picked her out and shines there, making her hair fiery. “She cried for days.” No one says anything, and she speaks again. “That’s what I heard.”
I swallow. My skin tingles. “I’m not going with him. I mean, I did this morning, to save my dad the trip, but . . .” My voice dwindles away.
“You back to talking?” Lauren says.
I just look at her, and she shrugs.
“Oh, that hot guy’s named Taylor?” Lili says, and she breaks out in a smile brighter than the sunbeam Lauren sits in.
“So we’ll take you home and pick you up in the a.m. Is that good?” She turns to her brother. A cool breeze picks up and I can smell the ocean. “You okay with that, Jesse?”
“Sure.” He looks me right in the eye, and all the sudden I want to kiss him. Is Lauren’s lip gloss still on his lips? I want to find out. I almost take a step forward, there’s that kind of draw. It’s almost spiritual. Does he feel it too? He looks at me like he does. Then, without warning, Lili hugs me, and for a moment the places where her skin touches mine burn like ice.
“This is going to be so fun. We’ll pick you up about seven tomorrow morning.” She releases me.
I open my mouth to say okay but can only nod.
It’s been a long time. My mouth, it only sometimes works.
I don’t have that much to say
didn’t have anything to say when it all happened and now
with Lauren and Taylor and the others, maybe I’m used to being silent.
But this Jesse, this Lili, they’re new and they don’t have one bit of a clue what my life was.
What it is now.
So maybe I can start over a little on the inside.
I’m all alone.
When I step in the house, I feel the emptiness, feel me the only person breathing in here.
For a moment I think of my mother being here every day by herself
thinking of her dead son and the daughter she hates and doesn’t want to have anything to do with.
I walk into the foyer, which is dark as an artificial night, and know I wouldn’t want to sit around here either. I’d leave too.
There’s a mirror by the front door. I force myself to look at my reflection.
Am I so bad that my mother has to hate me?
Would I quit talking to me?
Was any of this my fault?
There’s not one answer on my face, only sadness.
I have to look away.
I flip on the light and start through the house, turning on switches and opening curtains and blinds.
The mother who hates me can close them all later. If she comes home.
She loved him best.
We all knew that.
I even heard Daddy telling her to love me better and she just laughed—saying she loved us both, but especially Zach.
I didn’t blame her.
I loved him best too.
People who saw the three or four of us together knew.
It was obvious to everyone he was the favorite.
And sometimes my brother used that to his advantage.
But mostly he didn’t. Because, except for a few small little itty-bitty tiny things, my brother was all right.
It was Lauren. Of course. Lauren told Lili everything. At least what she knew, which I’m sure isn’t accurate. That’s
how gossip is. Bits of truth sprinkled in with lots of crap.
And Jesse, too, I bet.
I bet he knows.
I bet she told him first.
They both know by now.
A weight settles on my shoulders. I can’t even stand up under it.
I have to go to bed.
So I do.
In bed I wonder.
Does she tell Jesse that she wanted my brother bad?
Does she confess he never was that interested in her?
That once he found Rachel, he never looked back at Lauren?
Does she tell them that one time, when she spent the night with me, my dad caught her sneaking into Zach’s room, late?
Does she tell them how we laughed together?
Does she tell them that she was an expert at teaching someone how to put on makeup?
Does she say that we were best friends. Best. Before?
Does she say how I called her after he died?
Does she whisper how neither of us could talk?
Does she tell them that Zach loved Rachel?
And that Rachel.
That Rachel was something else.
At first, I was like Lili. Jealous when Zach found Rachel.
But he so totally fell for her, and she didn’t mind sharing their time with me, too, so I totally fell for her. I mean, if
you could have seen Zach with her.
My Taylor (he was my Taylor then) was like, “Okay. Wow.
That girl is smoking, London.”
I punched him a good one for that. “How’d your brother manage to catch her?”
Mom and Daddy hated that she didn’t believe in the same God we did.
But Zach? He just grinned.
Took her hand at the table, kissed her once full on the mouth, right in front of Daddy, who looked away and would have crossed himself if he’d been Catholic.
Who could know everything then? Besides God?
Who?
Lying in bed all dressed and on top of the covers, I hear Mom come home. She’s moving around, muttering, mad, closing the blinds. Closing the curtains. Snapping off lights too, I expect.
She has to know I’m here.
She has to know I’m the only one who would go against her wishes and let the light in.
Well, there’s light when she drives, isn’t there? Can she block the sun out, with her sunglasses?