What Goes Around (22 page)

“The truth? I looked for you after the party and when I didn't see you I got worried. I thought maybe the fire ate you up. The fire department said everyone got out okay, but you just never know, I guess.” He glances at me and then looks back at the road. “I remembered you said you worked at the coffee place, so I figured I'd just come by and make sure you were alright. I hope that doesn't seem stalkery or weird seeing as we only talked for like thirty seconds…”

“No, it's nice of you,” I say. “I'm okay, thanks for checking.”

“You don't look that okay actually…When I came in to Mon Coeur, you looked really sad. And at the party, too.” Sean pauses. I don't say anything. “So did you ever find him?”

“Who?” I feel myself blushing.

“Whoever you were looking for at the party. Was it that guy with the bad tattoos?”

“Oh,” I say. “Yeah. Sort of. I mean I thought so, only it turned out no.”

“He isn't like your boyfriend or something, is he?”

“Ha!” I say. “Definitely not.”

“Okay, good. I didn't think so. I mean, he didn't look like the kind of dude I'd imagine you usually date. He looked kind of like a loser.”

And I'm oddly flattered by this comment, as it implies that I have actually ever dated anyone before. Which, of course, I haven't.

“So, tattoo dude didn't deliver?”

“He delivered his hand to my ass,” I say. “So I delivered my knee to his balls. And that was it.”

“Good for you,” Sean says. “But why were you looking for him?”

I take a deep breath. And as I breathe in, I realize something, that I'm going to have to tell him the truth. It's not that I've somehow decided this is a good idea or anything, it's just what I'm going to do.

“I was looking for my sister,” I say. “I haven't seen her in over two years.” There's no going back now. We're stopped at a stoplight. I glance at Sean again. He turns toward me, nodding ever so slightly. I hope telling him isn't a mistake. “I didn't think
she'd
be there at the party exactly, I just thought…” I get the story over with as quickly as I can, just spit it out so it's out and I don't have to have the words in my mouth anymore. “So I showed her picture to tons of people but no one knew her but I thought if I found the guy who brought in the box, he might know something about where she was, or that someone at the party might.” I look over at Sean but he's watching the road again. “But I was wrong.” I feel my eyes filling with tears, but I blink them back. “So I guess that's why I looked sad.”

“That's a pretty understandable reason,” he says.

“My best friend Amanda thinks I need to get on with my life now. Stop focusing on my sister so much and just act, I don't know, like she never existed or something. It's been two years since she disappeared and nothing has changed.” I inhale and exhale slowly. “I don't know, Amanda might be right, it
might
be time to give up now.” I look down at my hands. “But I just don't know how to.”

Sean is silent. And we both stare straight ahead at the rain pounding down.

“I think I know why I met you now,” Sean says finally. And then I feel Sean place his hand gently over mine on the seat between us. “There are some things a person just never gets over, that the phrase 'get over' doesn't really apply to,” he says. “And when one of those things happens in your life, it doesn't matter how much time has passed, or if you're sitting alone in your room or at a party surrounded by a hundred people, and it doesn't even matter if you're actually thinking about it or not because no matter where you are or what you're doing, it's still there. It's not just something that happened. It's become a part of you.”

And then he shuts his mouth and keeps driving. This is it so exactly. And no one else I've ever talked to has ever really gotten it before.

He turns toward me, our eyes meet, and I'm just sitting there blinking. He grins, shrugs his shoulders, and tips his head to the side, all casual now. “Or, y'know, whatever.” And I burst out laughing and it's a real hiccuping, doubled-over laugh, the kind of laugh I haven't had in a long time. And he laughs with me. Things are the funniest when they are a mix of sad and absurd and true.

“So you know what I'm talking about, then,” I say.

“Something like that,” Sean says.

“How do you know all of that?” I ask. “I mean, what happened to you?”

But as soon as the words are out, I wish I could take them back. The last thing I want him to think is that I'm mining him for his tragedies, the way I've felt so many others do to me. “Sorry,” I say. “You don't need to answer that.”

We are pulling into the apartment complex where I live now, the streetlights lighting up the inside of the car. Lighting up Sean's face.

“Seventeen-ten,” I say. “Up there on the right.” And Sean pulls up in the empty parking spot in front of my front door.

“Well,” I say. “Thanks for the ride.” I look out the window, there's so much rain pounding down it's like the whole world is underwater. It's like here, in this car with Sean, is the only safe place left on earth.

“No problem,” he says.

I reach down and unfasten my seat belt. “So…um.” I know I'm supposed to get out now, but I am struck with the sudden intensity of
how much I do not want to.
“Well…thanks again.” I cringe, hearing myself. This is ridiculous. I have to go.

I start to reach for the door handle and glance over at him one last time. Our eyes meet and there's that flash again.

Sean takes a deep breath.

“I had a brother once,” he says. His hair flops over one eye and he pushes it away. “But he died.”

My breath catches in my throat. The rain starts pounding harder now, and there is thunder in the distance.

“What?” I blink.

I watch his mouth.

“My brother died,” he says again. “So that's how I know about that stuff I said.”

I raise my hand up to my mouth. “Oh God.”

He smiles this sad half smile. “It was a long time ago.” He looks down, looks back up, his face is flushed. “If there was even the slightest chance that I could see him again, that there was something I could do to make that possible, I would never stop trying. Ever. This is fate, Ellie, me meeting you, I think. Because I don't have a chance to get my brother back. Nothing I do can change the fact that he's gone. But maybe what I'm supposed to do now is help you.” Sean pauses. “Do you think that sounds crazy?”

I shake my head. I feel something inside me warming up.

“So should I come in, then?” he says. “Maybe see the drawing?”

I hesitate for only the tiniest shred of a second, enough time for me to look through all that rain at the front windows of our building and remember that my mother is working the night shift tonight, which means she is gone now and won't be home until early in the morning.

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “That would be great.”

I realize, as we walk into my room, that this is the first time a guy has ever been up here.

I try and imagine how it must look to Sean, messy unmade bed, a dresser, a nightstand, a desk, a few items of clothing tossed around on the floor. It probably looks like no one spends much time in here, which is true since I'm almost always at Amanda's.

I sit on my bed and Sean sits in my desk chair and I continue explaining Nina's drawing. “So then I called the number on there but the guy didn't know anything, didn't even remember her. And the guy at the Mothership says he just found the book in the basement and it was practically empty when I was down there, and even if there were any more clues there, they're all burned up now.”

Sean reaches out his hand and I give him the drawing. My fingertips brush against his, just for a moment. I am very aware of it. Sean holds the drawing close to his face and stares. He doesn't move, he doesn't blink, it doesn't even look like he's breathing. And I'm wondering if he's beginning to regret offering to help me since he is probably quickly realizing how futile this is.

“No pressure,” I say. “I mean, or…” And then I stop because Sean's mouth has just dropped open, and then this huge grin spreads over his face. “Ellie,” he says slowly. His eyes are shining. “Did you notice
this
?” He jumps off the chair and lands next to me on the bed. He flips the drawing over so I can see the fake credit card printed on the back.

“What about it?” My heart is pounding.

“This is a cardboard credit card.” He taps it with his finger.

I nod, blinking. “Right.”

“And do you know where people get these? With credit card offers in the mail…” Sean is nodding at me, trying to lead me to his conclusion. “So…”

I shake my head slowly. “So…”

“So, your sister turned eighteen only a couple months before she left, right? Credit card companies have this list, of all the people in America who are about to turn eighteen. So they can start sending them credit card offers right around their birthday and sucker them in.”

“I'm not sure what you're saying.”

“Chances are your sister got a ton of credit card offers in the mail before she disappeared, right? So what if she actually applied for one?” He turns the card over and points to the bank's name on the back. “Say from Bank of the USA? I bet we could sign into her account no problem since you're her sister. All we'd need is her Social Security number, and then we'd probably just have to answer a bunch of random security questions and the answers would be things like your mom's maiden name and other stuff you'd already know.”

“Oh,” I say. I try and force a smile.

“What's wrong?”

“It's a nice idea! And thanks for thinking of it!” I frown.

“You're frowning,” he says.

“I just don't think it'll work.”

“Why not?”

“It's too easy.”

“But that,” Sean looks me straight in the eye, his mouth curled into a mischievous little smile, “is exactly why it's going to.”