I think about trying to ask for Rennie, but she probably wouldn’t let me in. Not after the way I acted when Aunt Bette came to the gallery to get her paintings back. I can’t even bribe my way in with money because I don’t have a red cent on me.
It finally comes to me. “Moonshine! Moonshine! Moonshine!” I shout it as loud as I can, but the bodyguard still pretends not to hear me. It’s like I’m not even standing in front of him. My lips quiver and the tears come. What’s happening? “Please,” I’m begging. “Please let me in.” Only it’s no use.
I stumble backward away from him and try peeking through the foggy glass in the front window. I don’t see Kat or Lillia inside, can’t make either of them out in the crowds of revelers. But I know they are here. I can feel it. I sit down on the curb and touch for my heartbeat, because it feels like it’s pounding in my chest, but I can’t feel a thing.
And then, suddenly, I turn my head back to the gallery door, and there’s Lillia standing out front on the curb. She’s shivering in a thin dress and her stockings. Is she looking for me? She must have felt that I needed her.
I step toward her, but then Reeve appears, carrying her coat. He wraps her in it. They run across the street together, and Reeve picks up Lillia and puts her inside the cab of his truck. They seem like they’re in a hurry.
They kiss on the lips before they drive away. A tender, slow, warm kiss.
Oh no. Oh no.
I turn around; I’m spinning. I sink to the ground. I don’t understand. How could she do this to me?
I’m still sitting on the curb when, from out of the back of the store, I see Rennie’s white Jeep go flying down the road in the other direction. Kat’s behind the wheel.
I lift a shaky hand and push my hair behind my ears. I’ve got nowhere to go, no idea what’s going on. My whole world is falling apart.
Maybe I can catch Mom and Aunt Bette before the ferry leaves. I can make them take me with them because I definitely cannot stay here. So I run. I run as fast as I can, my shoes slipping on the slick roads, and scream, “Wait for me! Wait for me!” until my throat is raw. I know they won’t hear me, I’m too far, but I have to do something.
I get to the ferry landing. Normally bright, tonight it’s cloaked in darkness. I search the parking lot, but it’s empty. A thick metal chain ropes off the entrance. All the white lights running along the planks are turned off. The ferry has stopped running. Mom and Aunt Bette must have boarded the last one.
They’re gone.
I drop to my knees and let out a wail that makes the trees tremble. I’m done. I’ve got nothing left inside. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t go on like this. I rise to my feet and head up the hill. I know what I need to do. I should have done it a long time ago. And this time, there’ll be no one to stop me.
A white Jeep pulls up beside me. Inside is Rennie. I can tell she’s been crying, the way her makeup raccoons around her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
I stumble up to the Jeep. I see myself reflected in the glass. I’m not in my party dress, but in a pair of still-damp jeans and a wet white T-shirt, speckled with gravel and dirt, clinging to my rolls of fat. I look down, and there are my old sneakers, soaked through with water.
I try to answer Rennie, but I can’t. I’m choking on my tears.
She tells me to get in. I don’t move. She opens the door for me and I finally climb in.
“Where do you live? Where are your parents?”
I try to answer her, to make words, but nothing comes out of my mouth. It’s like I’m choking. Like something is around my neck, squeezing it closed. I can feel my eyes bulge out of my head. My lungs burn for oxygen.
Rennie’s scared; I can tell she’s scared. “Just breathe. It’s going to be okay. Just breathe.”
* * *
“Breathe! Breathe!”
I want to. I want to suck in a deep, cool breath, but all I can feel is the burn of the rope around my neck. I’m dizzy from lack of oxygen. That and the way I’ve been swinging, to and fro from the beam in my ceiling, before she cut me down.
“My beautiful baby!” Mom sobs. She leans forward; she kisses my face. Hers is wet with tears. “Why? Why would you do this to yourself?”
* * *
I turn to Rennie and am finally able to choke out, in a strained whisper of a voice, “Reeve.” Rennie’s eyes go wide. “Reeve did this to me. This is his fault.”
I watch her hands tighten around the steering wheel. She can’t look at me; she’s too frightened. “I . . . I’m taking you to the hospital.”
* * *
“Hold on, baby!” Mom is screaming herself raw. “The ambulance is coming! Hold on. I’ve got you.”
I try to, but it’s hard. I feel myself slipping away. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. But that’s exactly what’s happening.
And then, with one last rush, I’m pulled out of my body and up to the ceiling. I can see my mom holding me as the ambulance arrives. I see them grab at me, but my mom won’t let me go. She knows. She already knows what I apparently didn’t.
I’m dead.
* * *
“What are you doing!” Rennie screams. She’s terrified. She’s scooting over as far as she can away from me. She’s not looking at the road, not looking at the turns.
I feel myself heat up, a fire. Hotter than any other time before. I close my eyes and everything goes white, like the center of the sun. I barely hear Rennie, because this is it. My chance to finally jump the scratch. It’s a relief, to do it. To finally let go.
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
* * *
LILLIA
REEVE AND I DRIVE AROUND in silence, except for a few times when one of us says, “Oh my God,” because of how crazy this all is.
I don’t ask where he’s going. I just let him drive.
We end up parking in the woods. It’s so dark and quiet. Reeve pulls to a stop and clicks off his headlights, but leaves the car running so it can stay warm.
Not that it matters. For once I’m not even cold. It’s like we’re in our own real-life snow globe.
He unbuckles his seat belt and then I unclick mine, too. And in a second we are completely going at it. I am pressing my lips as hard as I can against his, and his arms are around me, squeezing me so tight. I feel a rush of everything I’ve been trying so hard to hold back. And I can tell he does too.
I can’t kiss him enough; I can’t hold enough of him in my hands.
I pull his coat off his shoulders and then I wriggle out of mine. Reeve lifts me clean out of my seat and puts me in his lap, my back pressed into the steering wheel. The horn keeps honking, but neither of us cares.
He pulls his face away from mine and says, in a panic, “After I left your house that day, I went up to my room and lay in my bed listening to depressing music.”
I keep kissing his face. His eyes, his cheeks. “Like what?”
His eyes roll back in his head. “Like . . . um . . . damn.” He laughs nervously. “Radiohead . . . Beck. I don’t remember now.”
I plant kisses on the side of his neck, up to his ears.
Reeve shivers. “If I had known you came over, I would have run downstairs. I would have showed you off to my whole family.” He pushes me away suddenly, so he can stare me straight in the eyes. “I want you to know that I didn’t invite Rennie. She came on her own.”
I drop my head to his chest and cling to him. I don’t want to, I don’t want to do anything to ruin this moment, but I have to confess. I have to be true to him. “That stuff she was saying at the party . . .”
He lifts my face to his. “Forget it,” he says.
“Reeve, please. Let me finish. I—”
“Don’t. Just—don’t. Don’t tell me. I don’t need to know what happened before. I just need to know that you’re with me now.”
“Yes.” I hesitate, and then I just say it. “I’m yours.”
A smile spreads across his face, and his mouth
comes up my neck and over my lips and then we’re kissing again. His lips are urgent, like all we have is tonight. And I don’t even remember what I was going to say anymore, it’s that good. We kiss over and over and over again. This time there’s no one around to stop us.
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
* * *
KAT
IT’S EASY TO GET THE pictures. I sneak into the gallery, grab them out of the bathroom sink cabinet, and sneak straight back out. And then I go find my brother.
Pat and all his friends are camping. I know roughly where the spot is, a wooded clearing near the bluffs that he found on one of his dirt-bike rides. I park as close as I can get, on the side of the road, and head through the woods in my dress and my heels. The trees are so dense the snow barely hits the ground.
I find them. They’ve got a fire going, and everyone’s festive and drunk and cold as shit.
“Kat,” Pat says, standing up from the log he’s sitting on. “What’s up?”
I walk straight up to the fire and toss the stack of Rennie’s photos on the flames. “Someone pour me a whiskey.”
Ricky passes me his bottle. I down what’s left in one thick, smoky gulp.
I sit quietly for a while, while everyone else parties. Every few minutes I send Rennie a text like, Where are you? and Let me know where you are? and Rennie, WTF?!!
Then, through the crackle of the logs and the conversation and the Led Zeppelin, I think I hear a siren. Like a fire truck or an ambulance. I can’t tell. But it sends a shiver down my spine. I glance down at my cell. Rennie hasn’t answered my texts, not a single one.
I’ve got a feeling. A bad feeling.
“Everyone shut up a second!”
Pat laughs at me. He’s sitting across the fire on his sleeping bag, cooking some nasty-looking hot dog on a stick. “You hear Big Foot out there?”
The rest of the group either laugh at his lame joke or ignore me and keep talking.
I take a few steps away from them and strain to hear. Now it sounds like two sirens. Maybe even three. I run over to the radio someone brought and shut it off in the middle of a killer Led Zeppelin guitar solo. Someone whines. I say, “I’m not kidding! Shut up.”
I guess something in my voice tells them to take me seriously. They shut their traps. And then we all hear it. Like every fire truck in Jar Island is on its way to something bad.
“Ricky!”
I’m running over to his bike and putting on a helmet as fast as I can. No one knows what to make of this, but Ricky, bless his heart, doesn’t hesitate a second. He roars the engine and we peel out, sending a spray of dead pine needles and snow.
We drive toward the sound. It’s not far off. But we can’t get close. One of the fire trucks has blocked off the road. I climb off the bike and run to the side of the road, where a fireman is pulling caution tape across the pass. A jagged cliff, a few hundred feet in the distance, seems to glow. My eyes trace the light down its jagged edges to the water, where a bright orange ball burns in the cove. It . . . it looks like the water is on fire.
“What happened?”
He gives me this look, like I’m some stupid rubbernecker wanting the gory details. “There’s been an accident.” And then he turns his back to me.
I grab his arm. “What? Who was it? Was it a white Jeep?”
As soon as I say the white Jeep bit, he spins around, his face completely different.
I fall to my knees and let out a howl like a wild animal.
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
* * *
LILLIA
WHEN I WAKE UP, IT’S just getting to be light outside, and I’m leaning against Reeve’s chest and his arms are around me. The clock on the dashboard says 7:07. Oh God.
I try to sit up, and Reeve stirs but doesn’t wake up, and he doesn’t let go. He holds me tighter, and for a second I let him. My parents are going to kill me.
Was it worth it? I look up at Reeve; his eyes are closed and his lashes are long and his hair is all mussed in the back. He looks like a little boy. Yes, it was worth it. I know now that I can’t not be with him. It will be hard, but I’m going to have to explain it to Mary and Kat so they understand that I didn’t plan for anything like this to happen . . . but it did happen. They’ll have to, they just will.
I sit up and gently shake Reeve’s shoulder. “Wake up, Reeve.”
He opens his eyes, and he smiles. Then his eyes widen. “Shit.”
“My parents are going to kill me. I was supposed to be home by two.” I slide away from him and start looking for my clutch. I find it on the floor by my shoes. I check my phone—eighteen missed calls, all from home. “Oh no.”
Reeve starts up the truck, and reverses out of the woods and onto the main road in one swift move. “I’ll get you home in six minutes. We’ll explain that we fell asleep; it’ll be fine.”
“You’re not explaining anything,” I tell him. “You’re just dropping me off. I’m talking to them alone.” I check my hair in the mirror. A mess. I start running my fingers through it, trying to untangle the ends. I’m starting to feel queasy, and it’s not just my parents. Every time I think of Mary, I feel an ache inside. And the way I left things with Rennie . . . it’s all such a mess.
Reeve reaches over and grabs my hand. He laces his fingers around mine and says, “Ren will get over it eventually. I’ll talk to her. She can’t stay mad forever.”
I let out a laugh. “Do you know Rennie at all? Of course she can.”
Confidently he says, “Not at me. We’ve known each other for too long.”
“Okay, then, she’ll forgive you and she’ll go on hating me.” As soon as I say it, I know that’s exactly how it’s going to go. Reeve’s just a guy; he’s not her best friend. He didn’t betray her the way I did.
“I won’t let her hate you, Cho,” Reeve says, and I start to smile but then stop.
“And Mary. Mary’s going to be so upset,” I whisper.
Reeve asks, “Who’s Mary?”
“She’s my friend.” We’re pulling into my neighborhood now. Later, if my parents ever let me out of the house again, I’m going to tell him everything. The revenge pact with Mary and Kat, the ecstasy at homecoming, the plan to make him fall in love with me—all of it. I know he doesn’t want to hear it, but it’s the only way. And when he understands how badly he hurt Mary, he’ll go to her, and he’ll apologize. He’ll want to make things right.
When we turn onto the road to my house, I see it—a police car in our driveway. Oh my God. My parents put out an APB on me.
Under his breath, Reeve says, “Uh-oh.” He pulls into my driveway. Worriedly, he asks, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come inside with you? Blame it all on me.”
I’m already opening the passenger door. “Just go. I’ll call you later.” I hop out of the truck and run for the front door. I don’t look back, but I hear his car drive away.
Breathless, I run up to the door and slip inside the house. My dad is pacing by the fireplace, and my mom is crying on the couch with Nadia in her arms. A police officer is sitting on the couch. “I’m so sorry,” I begin. “I fell asleep—”
I stop talking because my mom lets out a choked sob and my dad has the strangest expression on his face. He runs over to me and grabs me in his arms and hugs me to him tight. Hoarsely he whispers, “Thank God you’re okay. Thank God. We thought—” He can’t even finish the sentence.
“What’s happening?” I ask. Then I look over his shoulder at my mom and Nadia on the couch. My mom’s crying; so is Nadia. She’s smoothing the top of Nadia’s head and rubbing her back.
“Lillia,” she manages to say, and holds her arms out to me.
I’m scared. I’ve never felt so scared. “Daddy?” I pull away from my dad and look up at him. “Tell me what’s happening. Is it Grandma?”
My dad closes the front door and tries to maneuver me toward the couch. “First sit down, honey.”
I’m shakin
g my head. “No. Tell me now.”
He puts his hands on my shoulders. The lines around his eyes look deep in this morning light. He looks so tired. “It’s Rennie.”
My heart drops. No no no no no.
“She’s been in an accident, and we didn’t know if you were with her. She—she died, Lilli.”
I feel my legs go out from under me. My dad rushes to lift me up, but he can’t. I can’t move. This isn’t happening. This is a dream. Rennie can’t be dead. It’s not possible.
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
* * *
MARY
AT DAWN, I WAKE UP and find myself in a ball on the ground. Frosty green grass, dirt, and a touch of snow. But I don’t feel cold. I don’t feel anything. I lift my head.
What happened?
Why am I still here?
Slowly more things come into focus. Slabs of white marble, brittle bouquets, melted candles. I’m in the big graveyard in the center of the island.
I crawl closer to the gravestone I’m lying in front of.
JAMES GLENN DONOVAN, BELOVED HUSBAND AND FATHER.
I let out a sob. Daddy.
It says he died a year ago. I rack my brain, trying to remember the last time I saw him. It had to have been before I left for Jar Island. But I can’t remember anything about that day. I can’t hear his voice, or see him put me on the ferry. It’s like someone erased my memory, wiped it blank.
I’m still choking back tears when I see it. The gravestone right next to his. It looks old, like it used to be white and now it’s grayish.
ELIZABETH MARY DONOVAN ZANE. SLEEP, MY LITTLE ONE, SLEEP.
My fingers reach out. Elizabeth. I say it and I know it’s my name.
My family has always called me Mary, because I was named after Aunt Bette . . . but at school, I was Elizabeth.