I threw back the covers and jumped in the shower. I let the water scald me, turning my skin red. I wanted to steam everything out, clean my brain, but there wasn’t enough hot water in the world for that.
The harder I tried to hold things together, the quicker they fell apart. The tighter I gripped, the less control I had. Was that what life was about? Picking the least bad option? Where were the good choices? The easy answers? Where the hell was my happiness? At this point, I would have settled for just a little sanity.
I turned off the water and stood dripping in the shower as my life crumbled at my feet. I’d spent the last couple of years sure that getting out of Solitude was the answer. The idea of going somewhere else and starting all over with new people and a new me helped me wade through the crap and gave me something to focus on. I was going to shed Solitude like a second skin. But that was before Mom fell apart and before Luke showed up and branded my heart—because this wasn’t something I could leave behind. Now, wherever I went, I would be different because of Luke. He had seen the parts of me I was most proud of. He made me laugh. He made me furious. He showed me how to string together spontaneous moments until they were a colorful life, and he’d made me want so much more before he jerked the proverbial rug clean out from underneath me. Now I was flat on my back and the wind had been knocked right out of me.
I wrapped a towel around my head and got dressed. I was starving. I headed downstairs to raid the kitchen.
The fridge contained some wilted lettuce, condiments, baking soda, and a swig of milk. Not really the ideal meal. I fixed myself two peanut butter sandwiches and drank the last of the milk straight out of the carton, curling up into my chair and thumbing through a book on India that I hadn’t touched in weeks. I tried to pretend like my life was just as boring and predictable as it had always been, but I wasn’t buying it.
The house phone rang. “Hello?”
“Jenna. It’s Pete. You’re not answering your cell.”
Obviously. “I’m grounded. Mom took my phone.”
“Oh. Look, I know you’re not scheduled to work tonight, but I need you. Amber called in sick and Dale is still on vacation. Can you come in?”
Work was exactly what I needed. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I promised.
“You’re a lifesaver,” he said.
I threw my wet hair into a ponytail and tucked it up under a Repete’s cap. I scribbled Mom a quick note—
Went to work. Buy groceries
—and dug through Mom’s drawer for my keys. No keys. I pawed through every drawer and all the cabinets in her bathroom. Nothing. I called her.
“Where are my keys?” I snapped as soon as she picked up.
“You’re grounded,” she said. There was no need to remind me. She was hard to hear over the background noise—music and the tinkling of glass.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Work.”
I knew she was lying. Her real estate office was never that loud—the phone hardly ever rang. And those were the sounds of a bar. I gritted my teeth. “Pete called and needs me at work.”
“Well, you’ll have to call Mops and get her to bring you in. I have your keys with me. I found them in a different place from where I left them. You’re going to have to earn back my trust. I’ll pick you up after your shift.”
I wanted to yell at her or throw things. I wanted to tell her she was the one who needed to earn back trust, but none of it would have done any good. “Be there a little before eleven.” I hung up and called Mops, pacing the floor until she got there. I was going to be late.
Repete’s was already packed when Mops pulled into the back lot.
“You sure you won’t need a ride home?” she asked.
“No, Mom said she’d pick me up. Thanks for the ride.”
“Any time.”
Inside, there were two Little League teams celebrating wins, lots of regulars, and plenty of to-go orders. It was surprising how many pizzas a small town could eat. I tied my apron and jumped into the middle of the madness.
I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself. Pete was training a new cook—Jon, a sophomore—and he was pretty hopeless. He burned several pizzas and left it up to me to explain things to the waiting customers. By the time ten o’clock rolled around, I’d burned myself three times on hot pans and my feet were begging me to sit down. But it was a good tired.
I helped Pete close up. I locked the front door and pulled down the shade. I bussed all the tables, mopped the tile floor, and made sure all the food was stored.
“You’re on bathroom detail,” I told Pete. “You owe me.”
He scowled, but grabbed the cleaner and headed down the hall. Cleaning the bathrooms was something I avoided if I could.
An hour later, Pete and I stepped out into the deserted back lot. One small streetlight tried unsuccessfully to illuminate the alley.
“I’ve got to drop this off in the night deposit,” Pete said, holding up the canvas moneybag. “You’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, go on. My mom should be here any second.” When Pete looked unsure, I added, “I’ll be fine.” Where did he think we were? The last crime wave in Solitude involved mailboxes, and the Wiggins brothers had spent a month putting up new ones.
At eleven-fifteen, Mom still wasn’t there. By eleven-thirty, I was sure she’d forgotten me and was fairly certain that alcohol had something to do with it. I hated to wake up Mops, but I didn’t really have a choice. I started walking.
Gravel crunched as a truck pulled into the lot. I turned, headlights blinding me, and put my hand up to shield my eyes.
“Need a ride?”
I knew that voice. Thank God. I stepped toward the truck and out of the glare. It was the smile that gave him away. “Ian?”
“Disappointed?” He looked sad.
“Of course not,” I lied. Because he
was
Luke. And he wasn’t.
“Look, I thought we could talk. We never got to finish.”
I was uneasy, and I tried to tell myself I was being ridiculous. Ian was sweet. He’d never given me a reason to be afraid. He was just a figment of Luke’s imagination. I climbed in the truck and pretended I was okay with Ian. Because no matter who he thought he was, I knew he was Luke.
There was pain where my head was supposed to be, like someone had taken a hammer to the inside of my skull. Which, in a way, someone had.
I was the responsible one. I had played by the rules and done everything right. But I wasn’t ready to give up. Hard work eventually equaled success. I had remembered Mandy. Her name was salt across a very open wound. I could still salvage what was left of my life. I could still win.
I wasn’t a martyr. I had a stack of college brochures promising a future of football games and golden opportunities. I wasn’t going to let Luke screw that up.
“Aren’t you taking me home?” Jenna asked.
I couldn’t afford to lose her too. “Not yet.”
I drove into the train yard, the truck bumping hard over the rails. The headlights bounced across the ground before illuminating a building that proclaimed love and a great many other things for some girl named Rhonda. I shut off the engine and leaned across the seat toward Jenna. When she turned to look at me, I pressed my lips to hers. Luke had fed her a lie. I needed to give her the truth.
My shoulder screamed as I threw myself against the door again and again. I imagined the door opening inward. I had created this room to keep myself separate from Ian. I had to be able to remodel it a bit now that I no longer wanted to hide. Now that I had a reason to get out. But the door wouldn’t budge. I didn’t know where Ian was or what he was doing. I wasn’t sure what he was capable of. I worried I’d find out too late.
Ian’s kiss was a current, but my brain and body were on two different circuits. I wanted to kiss Luke, and I was, so my body responded to his touch. But I didn’t want to kiss Ian, and I was, and my brain screamed at me to stop. I put my hands on Ian’s chest and pushed him away.
His face twisted in agony and desperation, and it was hard to look at that kind of brutal pain, since all of Luke’s guilt and grief compounded it. “Pick me,” Ian whispered.
His words stabbed at my sanity. “I can’t.” The hole in my chest waited for me to fall into it. It might have been a relief. Reality played hide-and-seek with my mind. “I do care about you,” I told Ian, “but it’s because Luke is in there somewhere.”
“But he’s not supposed to be!” Ian grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m tired of sharing a life with him. He hurts people. How do you even know that his version of the story is the real one?”
Because when nothing else about this made sense, Luke did. Because he was the truth I was most able to live with. “I trust Luke.”
“You shouldn’t. Look what happened to Mandy.”
The truth taunted me, continuously changing shape and slipping in and out of the shadows. If truth was supposed to bring freedom, why did it weigh like heavy chains around my neck? Luke felt true, but Ian made me doubt myself. Made me doubt Luke. I hated Ian for that. I hated him for not being real enough for my hate to do any good. Or for being so real he made me forget what I once thought I knew.
I grabbed the door handle and pulled, tumbling backward out of the truck. I barely registered the pain of the fall before I was on my feet and running.
Dad always said a real man finds solutions, not excuses. Jenna helped me remember, and I couldn’t let Luke take that away. Take
her
away. If I was going to have a shot at winning, at pulling my family back together and finding that future they’d always planned for me, then Luke would have to stay in my past. There was only one way to solve this, and only one man to do it.
My shoulder throbbed, and my hands and heart hurt. There was a weariness that had nothing to do with my body and everything to do with this room. And while I deserved this cell, I longed to be finally free of the walls I’d put up myself. Walls constructed by guilt and fear and held together with shame. But I’d hidden in here long enough. I wanted out.
Moonlight filtered through the broken and grimy windows as I picked my way through the first floor. The room was familiar. A door hanging on its hinges. A pile of old bricks. A warped and broken desk in the corner.
I’d run here to recapture something, but I found that the magic of a moment disappeared as soon as time rushed in. This place wasn’t beautiful, like it had been that night. It was broken and scarred. It was lonely.
I climbed the stairs and sat underneath the hole in the roof where Luke and I had spent the Fourth of July. I wanted to forget everything I knew now and live inside that past moment forever. I leaned back and stared at the stars. At least they hadn’t changed. There had been a fraction of perfection in that night, a sliver of joy I’d held in my palm before it had cut me to shreds.
I cloaked myself with those memories. Not every single moment with Luke could have been a lie. What did it say about me if it was?
Gravel crunched on the first floor as Ian stepped into the dark building. I took deep breaths and tried to slow my heart. I needed to talk to Luke. He was in there somewhere. I just had to find him.
The stairs groaned. “I just want to talk,” Ian said.
He crossed and stood in the dim light from the open ceiling, staring down at me.
His smile was sad and asked me what I believed. It wasn’t a fair question.
How could I save a boy who’d died before I ever knew him? I couldn’t win. No matter what happened, I’d lose.
“Where’s Luke?” I asked. I needed to know he was real. I needed to know I hadn’t imagined everything.
“In his room,” Ian said.
My stomach tightened. “I want to talk to him.”
“No.”
I stood up. “Then take me home,” I said, turning to go. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”
Ian reached out to stop me. “What if I don’t have a tomorrow?” There was real fear in his voice, and that, more than anything, made me stop. It was hard to breathe around the lump in my throat. “Why can’t I have just as much of a chance as Luke? I’m just as real.”
I shook my head. I didn’t even know if truth existed anymore. Maybe it was a shape-shifter. Maybe it looked different to everyone.
“How can you believe I don’t exist?” he asked. “I’m standing right here.”
Ian reached out and took my hand, placing it on his chest. His heart pounded underneath my fingers. “Can’t you feel that?”
I nodded. I felt the beat of his heart and the warmth of his skin through his shirt. He moved my hand to his face, and I closed my eyes as he leaned into my palm.
“I’m real,” Ian whispered. “I’m standing right here.”
My eyes were still closed when he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. I didn’t want to see his pain, but I felt it in his kiss. Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I shook my head as Ian’s lips moved on mine.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his chest against mine, deepening the kiss. Panic pounded in my head, and I pushed him away.
“I can’t,” I said. My voice was ragged and raw. I didn’t want Ian to be dead, but I couldn’t believe Luke was. I didn’t want to mourn for a boy I never knew or lose the one I did. I didn’t want this pain.
There was only one thing I did want.
“Luke.”
Somewhere on the other side, Jenna said my name. It was a plea. I rushed the door, slamming my shoulder against the unyielding wood again and again. I had to get out now.
I put all my weight against the door. I pushed and strained until sweat stood out on my face. “Let me out!” I shouted. “Ian!” I stepped back.
Ian was dead.
That thought was a weight I struggled to free myself from. I shouldn’t have been surprised that thoughts had form, considering where I was, but just thinking the words drove me to my knees. I couldn’t believe that Ian was gone.
Ian was dead
.
It was both truth and lie.
No.
Truth.
“Ian is dead,” I said out loud. “I’m sorry.” The words choked me. I knelt on the floor and pounded my fists against the door. “I’m sorry, Ian! Oh God.”