“I bought you the same watch.”
He pauses. “You did?”
“Mm-hmm. When your sister found out, she smashed it into bits and told me I wasn’t allowed to go to dinner with you.”
Ethan sits up straight. “You’re kidding me. God, Stephanie did that?” He shakes his head. He’s getting angry. “She’s jealous, you know. She doesn’t want anyone else to have my attention. It’s all because of our parents’ divorce. Look, Emily, I’ll have a talk with her. I mean, it would have been enough for you to just take the watch back, you know?”
I pause. I literally stop breathing for a moment. Then, sitting up to look at him, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“Well, if you both bought me the same watch, then one of you would have to take it back, right? You could always get me something else.”
“I got it engraved,” I say.
“Oh.” He lowers his gaze. “Emily … they’re my family. I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but—well, what does it matter? Steph overreacted, and I’m going to talk to her. I’ll get her to pay you back for the watch.”
I shake my head. “Don’t bother. That’s not why I came here.”
He gives me an awkward grin. “You didn’t come for a striptease either, did you? Because I’m not really into crying strippers.” And he puts his arm around me. “Just tell me what’s wrong, Em.”
I should know better than to say anything. I should break up with him, graduate and go to whatever college will have me, and forget that this entire nightmare ever happened.
But I have to tell someone. And I want it to be Ethan.
I close my eyes and force myself to say it. “Last year, when I was with Del, something happened.” I pause. “I got pregnant.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. I open my eyes to look at him. He reaches for his nightstand, picks up his glasses, and puts them on. There he is. Clark Kent.
“You got pregnant,” he repeats.
I nod. “Yes.”
“And what—what happened? Did you have an abortion?”
I shake my head. “I couldn’t have done that. I thought about it, but there was no way.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I got pregnant near the end of October. So during the school year, I didn’t show very much. I wore baggy clothes. People didn’t even notice.”
He stares at me. “Oh my God,” he whispers. “How could people not notice?”
“They didn’t know what they were looking for,” I say. “It was easier than you might think. After school was over, I spent the summer with Renee Graham. You know that. Del found out right before he got expelled. But nobody else knew, Ethan. Not my parents. Not any of my other friends. It was terrible keeping a secret like that—you can’t imagine how terrible. Anyway, Renee and I have been writing letters back and forth. When your sister was looking for your watch tonight—when she was going through my stuff—she found the letters and read them. And now she knows everything about last year, and about the baby. And she told me that if I didn’t break up with you, she’d tell you everything.”
We sit on the bed, both of us cross-legged and staring at each other. I’m crying.
Finally, Ethan asks, “Is that all?”
I wish it were. But for him, it’s enough. “Yes,” I say. “That’s all.”
For a long time, he appears to be thinking. Then he says, “So you came over here tonight to tell me that my sister broke the watch you bought me for my birthday. And you also came over to preemptively tell me that last year you got pregnant and kept it a secret from everyone.” He pauses. “Even me. Even after we started dating. You lied to everyone.” He shakes his head. “Even your parents.”
“Ethan, I didn’t lie. I just wanted you to know the truth before your sister—”
“If I don’t know the truth already, then it’s because you lied.”
“I didn’t think you’d understand! You don’t know what this has been like for me!”
“So what did you think? Let me guess, okay? You thought that I’d be so pissed off at Stephanie for breaking my stupid watch that I’d just forgive you for keeping such a huge secret from me?”
Never in a million years would I have expected a reaction like this.
“Ethan,” I say, wiping the tears from my face, “please understand.”
He is completely still. “I don’t know how to feel right now, Emily. You need to give me some time.”
“Some time? But what about … what about us?”
He bites his bottom lip. He straightens the glasses on his face. Then, like a punch to the stomach, he says, “I don’t want there to be an ‘us’ anymore. At least not right now.”
I’m sobbing. “But, Ethan, I love you—”
“I don’t even know who you are, Emily!”
Funny, I think, neither do I.
“Stephanie was right,” he says. “It was a mistake for us to get involved in the first place.”
“Stephanie,” I blurt, “is your sister. Did you ever think your relationship with her is a little bit, I don’t know, weird?”
He glares at me. “We’re twins. Twins are always close.”
“Uh-huh. Were you born holding hands or something? Because I’ve met other twins, and they’re not like you two.”
His glare turns into a scowl. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Ethan this angry before.
“Get out,” he says. “Just leave my room, right now. We’ll talk later.”
I cry all the way back to my dorm. I crawl into bed with Franny—she never minds a bit—and stay close to her while I cry myself to sleep. If Stephanie is awake on the other side of the quad, I’m sure she’s quite pleased with herself.
It isn’t even light outside when I feel someone shaking me awake, softly. Before I open my eyes, I know. I’ve been waiting for so long. Finally, he’s here. I can smell him. He doesn’t smell like kerosene anymore, but it’s still unmistakably Del.
I open my eyes a little bit. “There you are,” I whisper.
Franny is still snoring softly. I have no idea how Del got into the dorm. I get the feeling he can do just about anything he puts his mind to.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, still whispering.
He smiles. “I’m here for you.”
“What will we do?”
“Leave,” he says.
“Why?”
“Why not?” His hand is on my arm. His fingers feel rough and callused. He looks dirty.
And as much as I want to resist him—as angry as I still am, as much as I want to hate him, to leave him behind—his blue eyes still pierce right through me.
“I found her,” he says, keeping his voice low and calm.
I sit up. “You what?”
“I found our baby. She’s a little girl.”
So I was right. I knew it.
“A family in New Hampshire adopted her.” He pauses. “I want to take you with me. I have to see her. I have to make sure she’s all right.”
“Del, we aren’t allowed to do that. It’s a closed adoption. It’s illegal.”
“They never saw you, did they? They won’t know it’s you. Emily, come on. I have to know she’s okay.”
I know exactly how he feels.
“I should pack,” I tell him, still whispering.
“I’ve got a green pickup parked in the off-campus lot,” he says. “You’ll see it. Why don’t you get ready and meet me there before this place starts to wake up?”
I shake my head. “Del, I don’t know. You’re talking about running away.”
“Why not?” he demands. “What do you have that’s keeping you here?”
I think about it for a second. I think about Stephanie and Ethan, my parents and the whole mess that life has become. There is no normal anymore. He’s right; there’s no reason for me to stay.
“Okay,” I tell him. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
He squeezes my arm. “I can’t wait.” Then he leans forward and kisses me
on the forehead. I close my eyes and remember everything: how it felt to be with him, how I loved him, how devastated I was when I lost him. And now he’s back. Deep down, I always knew he would be.
I hurry up and get dressed, stuffing as much as I can into my backpack. I gather up the money I have, put on my coat and gloves, and am about to leave the room when I realize I should probably leave a note.
What is there to say? Nothing. I’m leaving, and I don’t know when I’m coming back. I’m leaving because I have no other choice; I have to see my baby.
I find a piece of paper and a black felt-tipped pen. On my desk, I leave a note that says:
GOTTA GO
—EMILY
I know my parents will be horrified when they find out that I’m gone, but I don’t care. In fact, there’s a part of me that feels satisfied they’ll be so upset. They’ve lied to me and hidden so much; they deserve to be upset.
I tiptoe out of the dark room, into Stephanie’s room again, down the rope ladder again, where the dark is waiting for me. I hurry off campus to the parking lot. Del is waiting in an old green pickup truck.
“Where did you get this?” I ask. God, I hope he didn’t steal it.
“I borrowed it,” he says, starting the truck, “from my sister.”
“Your sister?”
“That’s right. I went to find her. And then I came for you.”
He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I nod, flinching a little bit at his touch. I realize I don’t feel much of anything for him. But I have to go.
“Del, it’s freezing in here. Turn on the heat.”
“I can’t. The heat doesn’t work.”
I stare at him. “How are we supposed to drive all the way to New Hampshire, in the middle of the winter, with no heat? We’ll freeze.”
“No, we won’t. I brought you something.” And he reaches behind my seat.
It’s the same red blanket we used to lie on together all the time. Carefully, Del unfolds it and spreads it out across my body. It smells like him. He pulls it all the way to my chin. “There,” he says. “Now you’ll be warm.”
I don’t say anything. I only nod.
“Okay, then. Ready?” He puts the truck into drive.
I take a deep breath, stare at the morning sunlight that’s beginning to illuminate campus. “Ready.”
And we pull out of the parking lot, down the road and onto the highway, heading north.
chapter twenty-two
It’s only a few hours to New Hampshire. For a while, I can’t think of anything to say, and the inside of the truck is almost silent, the only noises the whirring of the engine and the murmur of low talk radio, which neither of us is listening to.
Finally, I say, “So you found your sister. That’s great.”
He nods. “It sure is.”
“Where was she? How did you find her?”
He shrugs. “I’ve told you. You got a computer, that’s pretty much all you need to find someone nowadays.” He’s quiet for a minute. “That reminds me. Did you ever find that girl you were looking for? Madeline?”
“No,” I say, “we didn’t.” Renee and I agreed that we wouldn’t tell anyone else what we learned about Madeline; that includes Del.
He shakes his head. “It’s so strange. You girls talked about her all the time, but I’ve never seen her. I’ve never even seen any evidence that she’s real. It’s almost like she’s a figment of your imaginations.” He adds, “You know—like Columbo’s wife.”
I can’t help but smile, thinking of the first night I met him.
“I don’t know why you’re having such a hard time,” he continues. “It’s easy to track people down.”
“Maybe for a boy genius.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “There’s information everywhere, just waiting for people to take it.”
I hesitate. Then I say, “I know that you knew about me when you came here.”
He stares straight ahead. He doesn’t say anything, until finally, “Yeah. So what?”
“So that’s why you liked me, isn’t it? You knew all about the fire. You knew I lost my dad and didn’t even belong to my family the way I thought. You knew, and I didn’t, and you were supposed to love me and you never even told me. You knew that I had nightmares, and you knew what they were about, and you never told me any of it. Why not? Why would you keep that a secret from me when you knew I was suffering?”
“You weren’t ready. I didn’t want to hurt you.” He glances at me. “Trust me, Emily. I know how things like that can hurt.”
“How noble of you,” I say, sarcastic.
He tries to keep his tone casual. “So you found out you were in the fire?”
I nod.
“You were in a fire with your parents,” he repeats. “Right?”
“Del, you already know all of this. Yes.”
“And your father died. And you almost died.”
“Uh-huh. That’s why I have the nightmares, you know—fire and water. I was still in bed when a fireman saved me. There was fire and water everywhere. It all makes perfect sense.”
“Uh-huh,” Del says. “Did your mother tell you that?”
“Yes. Del, why are you being weird?”
“My sister,” he begins, obviously trying to change the subject, “she’s all grown up now. You should have seen the two of us together. I stayed with her for a while, while I looked for the baby. Mel has this boyfriend—guess what his name is?”
I roll my eyes. “What?”
“Cola. He’s this big silent black guy named Cola. Honest to God.”
“That’s weird.”
He shrugs. “Well, Mellie’s always been attracted to the odd ones. Comes with the territory, I guess.”
We fall into silence again.
“So,” I say, almost afraid to ask. “Tell me about our baby. Where is she in New Hampshire?”
“In this little town called Saltsburg.” He pauses. “I’ve got the address. Something Foster Street. That’s all I know.”
“I knew it was a girl,” I murmur.
“Is that so?” He swings into a highway rest stop. We’ve been driving for about forty minutes. The sun is all the way up. By now, my roommates will realize I’m gone. It’s only a matter of time before my parents put two and two together, and then they’ll be looking for us. I feel terrified, exhilarated, but most of all I feel like I have no choice but to go see my baby. I have to know that she’s all right.
We go into the rest stop to use the bathroom and get some breakfast. It’s one of those new buildings with a food court and souvenir shop and shiny bathrooms.
As I’m washing my hands, a middle-aged woman approaches me. She stands a few feet away, staring, and I start to get paranoid that she’s with the police. But they couldn’t have reported me missing already, could they?
“You look lost, sweetheart,” she says. “Can I help you?”
“Oh.” I smile. “I’m not lost. I know exactly where I’m going.”
She takes a step closer. “Do you? Do you really know, honey? What’s your name?”
“Emily,” I say, without thinking. I should walk away, but she’s got me cornered. She holds out a pamphlet. “Emily, my name is Mary. I’m from the Church of the Open Door, and I have a gift for recognizing people who are in trouble. I can see people who need guidance.”
“That’s okay—really,” I tell her, trying to edge around her body. “I’m not from around here. I couldn’t come to your church, anyway.”
As I’m rushing out of the bathroom, she shouts after me, “God is watching you! He can help you, Emily!”
When I jump back into the truck, I’m shaking. “Oh my God,” I tell Del, “that was so bizarre.”
“What?”
And I tell him all about the woman in the bathroom—how she seemed to know that something was going on, that something was wrong with me. Del only laughs.
“There was a guy in th
e men’s bathroom, too! Here.” He hands me a muffin and coffee. “He was from the same church. I think they follow a script or something, because he said almost exactly the same thing to me.”
“He did?” I’m still shaking. I force myself to sip my coffee and take a bite of my muffin. “What did you say?”
Del grins. “I said, ‘You’re from the Church of the Open Door?’ And he goes, ‘Yes, Robert, I am.’ I told him my name was Robert, by the way.”
I nod.
“And so I go, ‘Well, sir, I’m from the Church of the Closed Door.’ And I crumple up the pamphlet and toss it in the trash and walk away.”
We’re on our way again. I gasp. “No, you didn’t!”
“I did. What business does he have, coming up to me in the bathroom? It’s crazy.” He glances at me. “I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about you.”
“Okay. What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Tell me what you’ve been up to since I left.”
I shrug. “Oh, you know. It’s been a totally normal senior year. Friends, homecoming, that kind of thing.” And then I add—just to hurt him, to let him know that I don’t belong to him—“I have a boyfriend, too.”
“Boyfriend,” he says, frowning. “Let me guess. Ethan Prince.”
I nod. “Until about six hours ago.”
“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”
I give him a brief synopsis of the circumstances surrounding our breakup. Considering what Del and I are doing, the fact that I’ve just run away, that we’re going to find our child, and how empty I feel when it comes to Del, the whole situation with Stephanie and Ethan—the watch, the cake, all the stupid rules—seems incredibly petty and mundane.
“So right now, your roommates are in your dad’s office, getting work details for eating cake.” He snorts. “That’s freaking hilarious.”
I pause. “Actually, they’re probably in his office, showing him the note I left. He’s probably calling the police right now.”
Del gives me a sideways glance. “You’re eighteen, Emily. The police can’t declare you missing for twenty-four hours.”
“Maybe not officially. But my dad knows them. Stonybrook is a tiny town. Trust me, if they’re not looking for us now, they will be soon.”