“Did they?” My stomach is tying into knots, and as much as I don’t want to hear this, I know I need to. I wish I were magical like Landon and could take some of this pain away, the way he does for me.
“They did. The grown-ups could ignore it for the most part, make their jokes about Carter’s clothes being a little too tight and his voice being a little too high for their liking. Those were all jokes, their ignorance shining. Everything was fine until a rumor started that he tried to kiss another boy, and then a little boy down the street said that Carter tried to touch him. Then everyone turned on him.”
My mouth and heart fall to the pit of my stomach. My insides echo and rattle, not used to the commotion. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this aware of myself, of how I feel about the things happening around me. I seem to care a whole lot more about what’s going on in my world now that Landon is a part of it.
“And did he?” Somehow I already know.
Landon’s head shakes furiously. “No. He would never. The people around us were so toxic, so disgustingly vile, and too simple to even understand how simpleminded they were. They were the kind of people who would claim they were”—Landon hooks his fingers into quotes in the air—“ ‘okay with gay people’ as long as they didn’t hit on them, yet when asked if they are homophobic, they’d say no.”
I know people like that. Most of the Barbies at my school were like that. They would say the most offensive things to me, but in their case, I suspect they knew exactly what they were doing. Because of the color of my skin, I had a girl ask which gas station my family owned, even though my dad had saved her mom’s ass from the skin cancer she got from sunbathing for too long.
“So then Carter went from the plat joke to the plat villain. It became like a witch hunt. Just how many of the young boys had been around Carter? Out of all the boys he rode bikes with, how many did he try to touch? Out of all the boys he had helped with their homework over the years, how many had he tried to force himself on? Even though no one else came forward against Carter, and the boy who accused him said he’d just been lying—that his older brother put him up to it because Carter ‘creeped him out’—the accusations became a thing. And his dad didn’t need another reason to take his anger out on him. When the whispers turned to shouts and the shouts turned to three big black letters painted on the side of the house, his dad had enough. It took me and Dakota to get his dad off of him that night. He missed school the next morning.”
Landon’s voice crumbles and I move to his lap. He wraps his arms around me, holding me to him like it will somehow comfort him. I wipe at the tears on my cheeks, not sure when they’d begun to fall. Landon’s words are painting too vivid of a picture. I remember the night Dakota was hiding under the kitchen table. My stomach lurches. That poor girl.
“We came home and found him. She didn’t want to leave.” Landon clears his throat and I wrap my arms around him, holding his head to my body. “I had to drag her out of that room, Nora. She snapped, she wasn’t even in her body when I pulled her out of his bedroom. She screamed and screamed and even tried to claw her way back in there before the police came and got him down. He’d hung himself in the night, as injured as he was after his father’s beating.”
A shiver takes over Landon’s body and I’m sobbing into his hair. I can’t imagine their pain and the trauma that came along with such an event at a young age. No wonder the two of them are the way they are. If Dakota didn’t have Landon, where would she be today?
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I rub my hand down his back. I shouldn’t have pressured him to tell me. This was much more than I expected to get when I began this sick little game. “I shouldn’t have forced this out of you.” I apologize profusely over his head. Images of the unfair treatment of a teenage boy because of who he liked to kiss break my heart. Suicide in any form is awful, but suicide among teens is especially hard to come to terms with. When you’re young everything feels so important—every crisis is your whole world and it’s impossible to see a light at the end of the tunnel. There’s no comfort when thinking of the empty future of an innocent child.
“Shh.” His arms hook around my back. “Shh. It’s okay.”
He’s comforting me? I move my hands to his jaw and lift his face to mine. “I could live a thousand lives and never deserve you.”
The truth sits heavy with me as he pulls me tight to his chest. I’m falling in love with him and he doesn’t even have to do anything. I’m going to fall in love with him, and he doesn’t even have to love me back.
chapter
Twenty-nine
Landon
IN THE UBER BACK TO my place, Nora is quiet and I feel lighter than before. Even after saying an awkward goodbye to Stausey and her husband, I felt better somehow. A sense of relief came to me with each word Nora and I spoke to each other on the roof. There’s less for us to climb over now that we’ve torn down some of the wall between us. It’s still there, but relationships aren’t simple. The more I get to know Nora, the more I realize Dakota’s and my relationship was too much for our age. We fell into a comfortable pattern of dependence, but no matter what happens, I will always be here for her. Nora seems to have a better understanding of this now.
Now that I’ve shared the worst day of my life with her, I feel closer to her. Why is it that it takes pushing my pain onto her for us to feel closer? Pain shouldn’t be something we feel better sharing. Pain is supposed to be dealt with in solitude, isn’t it?
Hell, I don’t know. Even though I think about that day often, I haven’t relived the entire ordeal in a long time. Carter’s death had the biggest influence on who I grew up to be. It changed everything I thought I knew about loss and love and pain. I knew nothing about pain or suffering until I held Dakota’s thrashing body down on a cold linoleum floor as the paramedics dragged her brother’s still body from his bedroom.
They had to give her a shot to get her body to calm. She slept in my bed that night, curled up to my chest, and I could feel her heart breaking every time she woke up and realized it wasn’t a nightmare. Her brother was gone. Dakota’s dad was nowhere to be found, though I was sure that if we looked hard enough, we would find him at a bar.
Nora keeps shuddering in my arms, and now I’m not sure if telling her was a good idea. I could have told a less detailed version, I suppose. I wish the memories from that day would fade. I keep waiting for that to happen, but it hasn’t yet.
The farther we drive from Manhattan, the more distance I feel between Nora and me. Whatever happened on that roof definitely brought us closer, but the darker it gets, and the farther we get from the glimmering city, will we be able to keep this going? Will the darkness make it easier to hide from each other?
“I’m sorry about tonight,” Nora finally says when we get to my building. She unwraps her limbs from mine and slowly climbs out of the car. The quiet night of Brooklyn has penetrated our Manhattan bubble.
“It wasn’t all bad.” I shrug, trying to make her feel a little better.
I can tell by her expression that she isn’t buying it. She doesn’t say anything as we step onto the sidewalk.
“Do you want to come up?”
She nods and I reach for her hand.
I hear a ragged breath, and then Dakota’s voice cuts through the darkness. “You haven’t answered my calls all day,”
Nora drops my hand. Dakota stands up from the ledge she was sitting on. She has a leaf in her hand and she’s picking at it, dropping pieces to the sidewalk beneath her.
“What are you doing here, Dakota?” My voice is calm. I would love for the three of us to be able to have a civil discussion out here on my sidewalk. A group of young guys walks into the store below my apartment, and my gaze follows them inside and over to the counter. Ellen is working, alone it seems. I watch them, while watching the two women next to me. Nora is standing slightly behind me, not looking at Dakota. Dakota is standing in place, her fingers still picking at the leaf. I wonder if Nora
sees Dakota in a different light now—perhaps Nora will understand her a little more?
My eyes take in both women, and I find my memories are mixing with reality. I was just in the past with a broken, sobbing Dakota, and now here she stands, hands on hips, hair and attitude as wild as ever. She doesn’t look broken anymore. Does that mean she isn’t?
Surely not. Tessa doesn’t look broken, but she’s falling apart, tearing at the seams.
“I tried to call you all day.” Dakota’s voice is so quiet, but loud enough for me to hear the edge beneath the words. “This is my second time coming by here. I was just leaving.” Dakota stares straight at Nora. “You were supposed to tell me about Michigan.”
Michigan—how could it have slipped my mind? “How’s he doing?” I ask, trying to gather an answer in my head.
“The same. Since you were ignoring my calls.” Dakota’s eyes dart to the ground. She looks like the words pain her. “I’m going to assume that’s a no. You could have just told me no.”
And there’s the guilt. Do I deserve it? I can’t decide.
Sometimes situations arise where black and white aren’t so clear as you grasp for the right answer, wishing the gray didn’t exist. This is one of those moments for me. I’m a good person, aren’t I? I’m a loyal friend and a stand-up citizen. I help women pick up their groceries, and I once turned in an envelope full of cash—$200, to be exact—to the police in Saginaw. I’ve never considered myself to be one of those people who find pleasure in causing others pain. I’ve never had to doubt my intentions or consider that maybe I’m not so perfect.
The thought is weird. This entire time I was judging all the guys around me, all the guys who cheat on their girlfriends and betray their friends, thinking of them as the scum of the earth, and I’m somehow better?
I’ve lied to Dakota’s face about Nora. I slept with Nora and I don’t think I ever even thought about telling Dakota. I would normally think this wouldn’t be her business—why wouldn’t it? She’s a big part of my life and she trusts me, yet I was going to keep Nora hidden from her? To make it worse, I have been hiding Nora away like a dirty little secret while making her feel bad for not telling me about her past?
I’m not the good guy, the nice friend. I’ve turned into the manipulative Gamemaker. Not that I’m having innocent children murder each other. Would Nora be the Peeta here in my story, or the Gale? I’m even more manipulative than Katniss—at least she’s fighting for her life; I’m just going back and forth between two women who care about me, and I can’t seem to figure out what to do. So it’s like I’m toying with both of them. Whether it was my intention or not doesn’t change the reality. I could have just told Dakota no or yes, instead of ignoring her calls all day while her dad is dying! What’s wrong with me? Is this what dating someone is? Losing touch with reality at the expense of everyone else?
That’s doesn’t seem fair. Or worth the hassle.
“I’m sorry. I should have answered when you called . . .” I start, not able to keep my eyes from peering at Nora, then back to Dakota. “It’s been a long night.”
I don’t catch on to how insensitive my comment was until the words have had a few seconds to marinate in the stiff air.
“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your long night.” Dakota’s teeth are bared. “I’m flying out in the morning. Your aunt Reese is picking me up from the airport and dropping me off at the hospital.”
At the mention of my aunt Reese, my chest aches. I miss her. She offered a sense of normalcy during my entire childhood. Her and my uncle are two of my favorite people. Well, were. When he was alive.
“I’m sorry, Dakota.” I take a step toward her.
Her voice interrupts me. “Go with her.”
It’s Nora’s voice.
I turn around to face her. I must have heard her wrong. Her eyes are sad when she looks at me. “Go with her, Landon.”
“What?” I whisper, and put my hands on her arms, now crossed at her chest.
She nods and quietly repeats, “Go with her. It’s the right thing to do.”
I cock my head to the side, clearly misunderstanding what’s going on here.
“I’m serious. Being sad for her doesn’t take away what we have. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Landon can speak for himself.” Dakota’s voice is pulled tight by a string stretching all the way back to our childhood.
“I was trying to help you.” Nora pushes forward and Dakota moves toward her. I don’t know if I can keep the peace tonight. I have no energy to break up a catfight.
“You two, stop it.” I push my arms out to my sides between them.
Dakota keeps her distance, but doesn’t keep her mouth shut. “Maggy has been trying to get hold of you, too.”
Dakota narrows her eyes at Nora, and Nora shrugs her shoulders. “And? I don’t live there anymore—there’s nothing to talk about.”
Dakota doesn’t seem to like that answer. I look back inside the corner store to check on Ellen. I don’t see her behind the counter. I start moving toward the store and Nora grabs my sleeve.
“Let go,” I snap at her. I rush a “Sorry” from my lips, but she couldn’t possibly have heard it.
When I pull the door open, the guys are checking out. They are loud, and the two smallest ones are tossing a candy bar in the air between them. Only one of the boys even notices me approach them. He looks at me, but doesn’t seem to care that I’m there.
When I look out the door, I see Dakota and Nora talking at a close distance. Neither of them appears to be shouting; this is a good start.
“How much is this?” one of the boys asks Ellen. His voice is deep for a teenager, and I think they have been in here long enough.
Ellen is bagging a small bag of Doritos, oblivious and moving efficiently. She takes a $10 bill from one of the boys and makes him change.
The kid looks down at the five in his hand. “I gave you a twenty.” He bought a Mountain Dew and the bag of chips.
“You gave me a ten,” Ellen says flatly. She turns her head like she’s trying to make sense of what’s happening. I can see her questioning herself.
I speak up from behind the boys. “You gave her a ten. Now take your stuff and get out.”
Slowly (good thing this isn’t a video game, because I would have had them all on the floor by now) they turn around and look me up and down. I get a good look at these kids, and just as I’m trying to figure out if they’re going to get aggressive, I hear Dakota yell behind me, “Get the fuck out! Whatever dumb shit you’re thinking about doing is going to change the rest of your life. If you want to have one, walk away.”
The crowd of kids (the oldest can’t be a day older than fifteen) clear out quickly, grumbling to themselves as they pass. Dakota doesn’t look at them. She’s staring at me.
I don’t know what to do. It’s been so long since we’ve been able to communicate wordlessly. Once we could have held an entire conversation this way. I think back to how she was before. It’s hard to put the young version of her up against the one staring back at me now. It’s confusing to recognize someone so deeply, yet feel so disconnected. Dakota’s expression is puzzled when I force my eyes away from her. Carter is fresh on my mind tonight and looking at Dakota pains me.
I walk over to the counter and approach a confused Ellen. She’s straightening out the plastic bags under the register. “You have to be careful down here working so late alone. Do you have anything to protect yourself with?” I glance around the back of the counter. Boxes of papers are stacked at her feet, along with an open tool case. Well, I guess she could have used one of those hammers if she had to . . .
“I’m fine—and I’m the only one who can work this late,” she says a little harshly.
I wish it were as safe for her to work alone at night as it would be for me, but the truth is, that’s not the reality. And I don’t want to embarrass her further by asking why only she can be here at night. I don’t doubt her, and it’s not somethi
ng I can press.
“Just be careful, okay?” I say. “And call your dad every time a group of boys comes in like that.”
Ellen rolls her eyes, but I believe her when she says that she will. After I suggest that she close up for the night, I go back outside.
Just as I step over the doorway, Dakota is in front of me. “Is she okay?”
I nod, looking over Dakota’s head to search for Nora outside.
“Landon, I tried to warn you about Nora. I know you won’t believe me, but she’s been lying to you from the beginning.” Dakota’s voice is rushed and I can feel the anger radiating off her. “She knew we were together. She lied to me and to you. She’s—”
“Enough,” I say, not a drop of hesitation in my voice.
I look at Nora standing alone on the sidewalk, her lips parted, and her shoulders high. She’s working hard to keep the flat expression on her face. I can see her concocting all kinds of theories about me and Dakota in her mind. To make it worse, Dakota takes my hands in hers. Nora flinches, but keeps her face flat.
“I can’t believe you would still see her and bring her to your place when I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day. It would have hurt less if you would have just told me. I’ve had to guess and be an obsessive ex because I get no real answers from either of you. You both have spun a web so intricate that you can’t get out.”
Noticing for the first time Dakota’s outfit, I try to figure out what her plan was tonight. She’s wearing a slim-fitting shirt with a serious V-neck. Her tight black jeans are a far cry from her usual workout pants, and the makeup on her skin is glowing under the street lamp.
What was she thinking when she came here? Was she going to try to seduce me into going to Michigan? Or to stay away from Nora?