I imagined falling asleep and waking up back in May, before any of this happened, and returning the money I stole from my mother, meaning no spells from that young hekamist, no last night on the beach, and no funeral.
In that one—the time-traveling miracle—I imagined insisting to Ari that she bring Diana along when we hung out. I imagined that back then I wasn’t who I knew I was—and that I would’ve given Diana a chance and not screwed around on her and somehow we all would’ve been happy.
Yeah, right.
The rest of the time, I waited and watched.
On Friday, the fourth night I’d spent in Diana’s yard, my phone rang just as I got settled. It was Brian. I leaned my head back into a groove in the tree and answered it.
“What.”
“Markos, where are you?”
“Out.”
He sighed. I could hear the sounds of phones ringing and chatting in the background; he must’ve been at work. “Cal’s missing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we can’t find him, dumbass.”
“He’ll probably be home in the morning.”
“No one’s seen him since before dinner last night. He didn’t open up the store. Mom’s freaking out.”
I knocked my head back into the tree’s trunk: thump, thump, thump. “So what do you want me to do about it?”
“Help Dev look. He’s checking out the beach. I get out in an hour and I’ll join you.”
“Do it yourself. You’re the cop,” I said, and I knew I sounded like a dick, but I didn’t want to leave my post.
“I’m sorry,” Brian said, not sorry at all. “Am I interrupting something? Are you performing open heart surgery? If so, I can call back.”
“Come on, Brian . . .”
“Mom said you’ve been staying out all night and not talking to her when you’re home. Nobody’s said anything, but maybe we should. This isn’t cool, Markos. It’s time to grow the fuck up. Be a member of the family. It’s not adorable to be the baby anymore when you’re eighteen years old.”
I thumped my head on the trunk too hard and winced. “I’m seventeen.”
“Just do this one thing, Markos. Cut the attitude and help find your brother. Then you can go back to whatever important moping you had planned.”
I looked up at Diana’s window. The light was on. If she peeked out through the curtains, I wouldn’t go. If I saw her shadow on the wall, I wouldn’t go. If the curtains moved even the tiniest inch, I wouldn’t go.
“Markos? You there?”
I stared at the window, wishing so hard. Hoping.
But the curtain never moved, and I never saw her face.
“Fine,” I said, and hung up.
I tried not to look at Diana’s window as I walked away, but I couldn’t help imagining that I saw the curtain twitch out of the corner of my eye. Of course when I stopped at the end of her driveway and looked back, there was nobody there.
When I couldn’t hold out any longer and tried to reach Diana and Ari on Friday night, Ari wouldn’t talk to me for more than a few seconds, and Diana wouldn’t pick up the phone. I left her message after message, but she never called me back.
Hey, it’s Kay. Just calling to . . . yeah. Let’s talk.
Diana, it’s Kay. I was thinking about you. Call me.
We don’t have to hang out. You don’t have to talk to me. Only text me that you’re okay.
Me again. Call me.
Call me.
When you get this, call me.
Ari wasn’t much help. Her sigh came through the phone loud and clear. “I don’t want to talk to you, Kay.”
“But Diana . . .”
“She probably doesn’t want to talk to you, either.”
“She has to. Every three days. What if she tried to leave town and something happened to her? What if she’s hurt and she can’t come see me?”
“It seems more likely that she’s pissed at you,” Ari said. “Maybe you should respect her choice.”
“You don’t get it—she doesn’t have a choice.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. I could hear how the words sounded, and they sounded bad, but it didn’t make them any less true.
“Have you talked to her?” I asked.
There was another, differently weighted pause. “No. Things have been . . . weird. In case you haven’t noticed.”
“So you don’t know,” I said, almost shouting. “You don’t know if she’s okay or not! You don’t know and you don’t care what happens to her!”
Ari’s voice turned ice cold. “That’s not true.”
“So call her yourself. Please? I get ignoring me, but she should pick up for you. . . .”
“I’m not your errand girl.”
“But I only want to know she’s okay! Ari? Hello? Are you there?”
She’d hung up on me.
Mina had walked in on me talking to Ari and stood there, watching. We were in the dark kitchen standing around the granite island. Mom and Dad were out to dinner, so there were four untouched twenties sitting on the island that we were supposed to use for takeout. Typical parental overkill.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“If you’re going to yell at me, yell. Don’t stand there judging.”
“Maybe you should leave them alone.”
I waved her away. “I can’t.”
“It seems like Diana doesn’t want to talk to you.”