That Night Read online

  I should have had the time.

  But I couldn’t find the photograph in my purse. I had one of those purses with fifteen zippers, and couldn’t remember where I’d put it. Once I found it, I slid it into the slats at the top of his locker. Students started streaming down the hall toward me.

  I’d taken three steps when I saw Declan rushing, doing his usual four-minute between-class sprint.

  He saw me at once, and slowed. My palms slicked. I swallowed.

  “Hey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see Nurse Fielding,” I said. “Female problem.”

  Usually, the female thing got guys to stop asking questions. And it worked with Declan too. But I could tell those big, brilliant cogs in his mind were working, because the nurse’s office was on the other side of the band wing. Meaning, I’d have no reason to come down this far, unless I’d been stopping at his locker. He didn’t ask about that, though. “Are you feeling all right?”

  I nodded and pointed to the water fountain behind me. “Yeah. Had some water. And now I feel better.”

  My face was burning with heat. I had the world’s most pathetic poker face. I knew he must have seen the Bible. He must have known that I’d outlined those passages. All I wanted was for him to acknowledge that I knew. To say something, so I wouldn’t have to.

  But he said absolutely nothing. He was content to let me twist in the wind. He was happy not to confess, or maybe he didn’t care to, as if I didn’t matter enough to him.

  “Cool,” he said, starting to pick up his pace. “See you later?”

  “Yeah.”

  Then he rounded the corner and disappeared.

  I kicked a locker, clenching my fists so tightly that my fingernails dug into the skin of my palms, making them bleed. When I went to my class—ten minutes late, but who cared?—I sent a text to Kane, as my teacher was writing out my detention slip: Did Luisa say anything to you?

  He texted back: No

  I’d had enough time to send one more text as my teacher finished writing. I held the phone under my desk and jabbed: Are you going to tell her you know?

  As I walked to detention, I got the message from him: No

  I stood there in the deserted hallway, my thumbs hovering over the keypad. I felt desperate, out of control, a volcano ready to blow its top off, but I didn’t know what would make me feel better. Well, I did know, but I knew that wasn’t possible. And it killed me.

  A second later, he came back with: I have to lift after school. Meet me outside the gym after? Like 6?

  It was a Friday. I knew spring ball would be starting, and Kane would be working off the past couple months of heavy partying and his penchant for eating an entire pizza by himself. Not that Kane ever showed a hint of imperfection. At least he had something to keep his mind off his cheating girlfriend. I’d given up dance for my junior year, never having made it to soloist, so I had absolutely nothing to occupy the time.

  When six o’clock rolled around, the school was deserted. I sat on the floor of the hallway outside the locker room. I’d been there for the past hour. I told myself I’d tackle my geometry homework, but I hadn’t cracked the book. I simply sat there, cross-legged, back against the wall, replaying every moment I’d had with Declan until I was beyond madness.

  When Kane finally opened the door and came out, carrying the scent of soap from his recent shower, my eyes were so swollen from crying that I couldn’t even see him.

  “Wow,” he said, slinking down next to me. “Drama much?”

  I tried to talk, but I couldn’t. I sucked in a breath that did nothing to help me calm down. Then I grabbed my chest. “I can’t breathe,” I sobbed. “Kane…I can’t breathe.”

  He put an arm around me and let me cry into his shoulder, making quiet shushing noises to get me to calm down, but my heart was going a million miles an hour and I felt like it might explode.

  “He’s not coming back. I can’t do this,” I said into the warm dampness of his sweatshirt hood.

  “I know,” he said.

  I’m not sure how I ended up in the passenger seat of my Jeep in the empty lot of the high school. When he slid into the driver’s seat, he was holding the keys, but I couldn’t remember giving them to him. He looked at me and said, “You’re going to be okay.”

  Except I felt as though my heart was so scarred, it would never heal. Still, sometime during the walk to the Jeep, I’d stopped feeling sorry. Now, my blood was boiling. I leaned over the console, without hesitation, and kissed him, hard.

  “You never kissed me,” I said, humiliation creeping in as I realized what I’d done. “That first time. And I was too drunk to remember the second.”

  The look of surprise that flashed on his face soon dissolved as he reached a hand around my neck, pulling me close to him again. We kissed, ravenously. It turned out, while those first fumblings when we were fifteen had been nothing worth writing home about, kissing him hit me in all the right places. For the first time that year, I felt more than the fear of losing the best thing that had ever happened to me. No wonder Declan hated me. If it had been this good on New Year’s, then it must have been obvious how much I enjoyed it.

  We ended up in the cramped back seat of my Jeep, half-clothed, doing what we shouldn’t have, considering we were dating other people. All the while, he kept whispering that we were going to be okay, that I’d survive this. Even if it didn’t feel real, it felt right. And the hurting stopped, briefly, which was the best that I could hope for.

  Wednesday, March 6

  When I stepped out of my Jeep after school, I looked across the street at the Weeks place. Mrs. Weeks’s SUV was in the driveway.

  Kane hadn’t been at school. I’d only seen him once since Friday, and that was out my bedroom window, when he got into his father’s truck. He was wearing a sling on his arm and a baseball cap on his head, so I couldn’t see his face. I imagine he was still pissed at me. I hadn’t had the guts to text him.

  Taking a breath, I throw my backpack on the front stoop of my house and jog over to theirs. I knock on the door, in case the baby’s sleeping. Mrs. Weeks answers a moment later. “Hailey,” she says, smiling. “How are you?”

  “Good. I—”

  I don’t have time to explain. She motions me inside, and I follow her up the stairs. By the time we get to the end of the hall, my heart is in my throat. But I swallow it down. She turns to me. “Are you going to be okay?”

  I nod.

  And I go inside.

  They painted the room. It’s a mint-green color, and there are cartoon turtles all over the walls. I smell baby powder. The crib and matching furniture is new, white wicker. They didn’t change out the carpet, though, and there are impressions where his bed frame had been. I hover in the doorway, thinking of him sitting there, the first time we met, playing that silly song for me on his guitar.

  Then I take a step inside. I feel warm, dizzy as I peer into the crib, meeting Mr. Cooper Weeks for the first time. Declan’s little brother. He’s wrapped tight in a green blanket, but his arms are free, raised like a goalpost. Thick eyelashes, chubby cheeks. Long, pink fingers, the kind I could see playing an instrument.

  But what strikes me most are the eyebrows. The very familiar arch.

  “Oh my gosh,” I breathe. “He’s beautiful.”

  “So you came to see my little brother, not me?” someone whispers from the door. “I’m beautiful too.”

  We turn to see Kane standing in the doorway. He’s barefoot and bare-chested, wearing the sling and a pair of sweatpants. Mrs. Weeks shushes him and ushers us out the door.

  Making jokes? So he isn’t angry at me? And here, if the roles had been reversed, I’d be livid.

  When Mrs. Weeks closes the nursery door on us, leaving us alone in the hallway, I say, “I’m so sorry.”

  “You should be.” Th
en he smirks. “I get it. I’m an asshole.”

  “No, you’re not. All the things you did to protect me. You are definitely not an asshole.”

  He seems surprised. “What are you talking about?”

  “I remembered more. Even before Declan died, I was falling apart.”

  “Yeah, you were. He wasn’t very nice to you, Hailey. Especially at the end there.” He shrugs. “But I’ve done stupid things in the name of love too. So I get it.”

  “You kept me together.” I shrug. “So anyway, thanks. When are you coming back to school?”

  “Tomorrow.” He motions me toward his room. It’s hot and stuffy in there, as if he’s been marinating in his bed for the past five days. He shows me a letter with a red and gold logo on it. It takes me a minute to recognize it as FSU—Florida State University. Kane never talked about college much, but when he did, it was Florida, Florida, Florida. I scan the letter and see the word “Congratulations.” I raise my eyebrow.

  He grins. “I may be an asshole, but I’m also going to be a Seminole.”

  No wonder he’s happy. “No way!”

  “I know. I can’t believe they want me, either.” He scans the letter again. “And Luisa will be in Miami, so…” He stops and bows his head sheepishly, as if he just realized who he’s talking to and wishes he could take it back. “It’s good.”

  “Oh, about that. Listen. I get your thing with Luisa. I get that you’re trying to start fresh, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.” I suck in a breath. “So you don’t have to keep coming to my rescue anymore, okay?”

  He sets the letter down. “I don’t—”

  “I need to start doing that for myself. Everyone else is moving forward, and I’m stuck in the past. I need to grow up and take responsibility for my future.”

  He nods. “Yeah. All right.”

  I start to jog down the stairs, feeling for the first time as if I’m finally growing up and stepping off that hamster wheel. Like maybe I’ll be okay.

  “Wait,” he says when I’m nearly at the bottom. I turn back. “Still friends, right?”

  I smile at him. “Always.”

  9 Days Before

  I tried to see him over the weekend. I texted, asking if he wanted to do something. I went to his house, but he wasn’t home. I’d spent most of that weekend thinking of plans to get closer to him. Then I took one of my stuffed animals, christened it Luisa, and did some voodoo on it with a very sharp sewing needle.

  In the morning, a plan had solidified in my head. I never drove Declan to school anymore, since he usually took the bus to get there early for Science Club. But I had the idea that I would make an excuse to take the early bus too.

  When I saw him leave the house—so ridiculously early that it was still black as night outside—I rushed out, screen door banging behind me, chasing after him. I nearly slipped on the ice, trying to catch up to him. “Hey,” I said, out of breath when I fell in stride on the sidewalk next to him. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” he said, digging his hands deep into the pockets of the inadequately light corduroy jacket he was wearing. He didn’t look at me. “Your Jeep okay?”

  “It’s been making a sound.”

  He let out a laugh. “It’s older than shit. It makes a lot of sounds. Can you be more specific?”

  I didn’t want to talk about my fucking car, especially since there was nothing wrong with it. Ignoring him, I said, “Science Club today?”

  He nodded.

  “What are you working on?”

  “Nothing that would interest you,” he said with a shrug, which made me curse all the times I’d told him I didn’t want to hear him explain the ins and outs of his latest creation.

  The conversation faltered, mostly because it was so one-sided anyway. “So how was your weekend?”

  We got to the edge of the development. He turned and looked at me. “So why are you here again?”

  I pointed toward Fox Court. “My…Jeep…”

  It wasn’t very convincing. The bus bumped toward us, and he let me on first. It was empty. When I sat down in the middle of the bus, he slipped past me toward the very back. Sighing, I pulled my bag out of the seat I’d selected and joined him. He looked up at me as if he’d been cornered, then took a notebook out of his bag. “Sorry,” he said when I opened my mouth to ask him another question. He pointed at the notebook page, which was scattered with intimidating equations. “I’ve got to study.”

  “Okay,” I said, sinking down into my seat. This was ridiculous. He usually avoided confrontation. I was his girlfriend. He couldn’t ignore me forever, thinking I’d slink away without an explanation.

  When the bus pulled into the U-shaped drive in front of the school, Declan quietly put his things into his bag and started past me once again without another word. I’d had enough. I jumped to my feet. “Okay, enough, Declan. Tell me,” I shouted down the aisle. He turned. The sun had started to rise, so I could see that his eyes were tired. “Are we done?”

  He looked at me and then at the bus driver. “Not here.”

  And he walked off.

  Clenching my fists, I raced after him. “Then where? Tell me where you’ll talk to me, because I can’t seem to find a place.”

  He stopped. Then, shrugging, he motioned for me to follow him. The lights in the school were on, but it was pretty quiet this early in the morning. I followed him to the closest empty classroom, and he closed the door. He dropped his heavy backpack at his feet and stared at me blankly. “What?”

  What. He said it just like that, as if he had no idea. “Don’t you have something to tell me?”

  He did something I’d never heard him do before—he let out a bitter laugh. “Are you serious, Hailey?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t we start with what you had to tell me? Because that happened first.”

  I swallow. “Yes, but it happened before you and I met, so there was nothing to tell.”

  A smile spreads over his face, but it’s not a happy one. It’s ironic and pained. “Hailey. I don’t care that it happened. I care that you never told me that you’d slept with my stepbrother. You never told me. All those times we talked about our first time, and you simply went along with it. You really think I’d care if you had sex before?”

  I nodded. “Yes, because—”

  He shook his head. “No. It wouldn’t have mattered. I wouldn’t have cared if you slept with a thousand people before me, if I thought you were being honest with me.”

  “But…”

  “You need to stop. With the pictures. With whatever you’re doing. Just stop,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “Because I can’t take it. I loved you so much, Hailey.”

  Loved. Past tense.

  My heart broke open. It spilled all over that classroom.

  And he didn’t care.

  “So much, I would’ve done anything for you. I would’ve gotten past any of your flaws.” He gazed at me as he spoke, his words trembling in his throat, and I remembered how he could gaze at me with a love so intense it could put my pieces back together. Now, his stare was so cold I felt myself ripping at the seams. “But you lied to me the whole time. For a whole year. And I can’t get past that. No matter what you say, it’s too late.”

  He picked up his bag and started to leave. I tried to block the door, but I wasn’t fast enough, and I couldn’t think of anything to say. He had every right to hate me. I didn’t have to ask him if we were over. I knew the answer. “You’re with Luisa, then.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

  And he walked away, leaving me alone and in a thousand pieces that would never come back together the same way again.

  Friday, June 14

  Early congratulations to me, I think, licking chocolate icing off the doughnut I’d bought from Yum Yum Donut Shop.

 
I page through my Facebook feed, reading all the congratulations and “This is the first day of the rest of our lives!” crap. I should be donning my cap and gown to say goodbye to Deer Hills High with them. Unfortunately, due to my Shady Harbor stay, I’m two classes short of graduating, which I’ll remedy this summer.

  I stop on Nina’s feed, where there’s a picture of the happy graduating couple. Javier’s wearing his green gown and grinning, but under the gown, I can only see his spindly, hairy ankles. It looks like he’s not wearing a stitch of clothing, which is probably why Nina is frowning in the picture. I smile.

  On Kane’s feed is a picture of Luisa, wearing a sultry white dress, cap, and her valedictorian honors sash and National Honor Society cord. She’s holding the cap on her head and laughing with all her teeth, and it’s an amazing picture because it makes her look practically ethereal. He’d written: My beautiful girl <3. So proud.

  I check the time. It’s nearly seven.

  My destination closes at eight. When I finish my doughnut, I kiss my mom goodbye and head out in my Jeep. When I get to the campus of Bucks County Community College, most of the cars are clearing out. The registrar is almost empty. I approach the desk, and an elderly lady with glasses smiles at me. “Can I help you?”

  I take out my transcript. “I applied online for the fall semester but was hoping to take some enrichment courses this summer,” I say. “Can you help me?”

  “Oh, of course. What are you looking to take?”

  “English literature,” I say as the door behind me opens. The woman lays out a rather long-looking form and outlines the sections I need to complete. I start to fill it out as someone sets their elbows on the counter next to me.

  “I need to add a class, please,” a deep, low voice says.

  I look up into two of the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s studying the form I’m filling out. “New student, Hailey?”