What You Left Behind

Hallelujah. Now I can wallow in my self-pity without interruption.

It’s quiet. Or as quiet as it can be with a rager inside the house a few yards away. But this little spot on the ground near the bushes is peaceful. I have nothing left—no more tears, no more words, no more booze or food or puke. I’m done.

It’s cold, but cold is nothing. I wrap my arms around myself and drift off to sleep.

? ? ?

I wake to someone’s hands on my face. Someone’s speaking, but I can’t make out the words. My good eye flies open, and the whole left side of my face pulsates with agony. Damn, Dave really got me good. The cool hands on my cheek feel nice though.

I try to focus through the dark. I don’t think I’m drunk anymore. I blink a few times, and the face in front of me becomes clear. Her nose ring is a tiny gold hoop today.

Joni.





Chapter 31


“Joni?” I sit up.

Her fingers graze lightly across my bruises. “What happened?” she whispers.

For the time it takes me to suck in one long, deep breath and let it out slowly, everything’s okay.

And then the situation becomes real.

Holy shit. Joni cannot be here.

I glance to my left, where Alan and Aimee are standing a few feet away, watching. I thought they left. But no, of course they didn’t. My mom told Alan to call Joni. That’s why he needed my phone. They were just letting me sleep while they waited for her to show up.

“How did you get here?” I ask, stalling.

“I borrowed Elijah’s car. What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story,” I say, grabbing her hand and removing it from my face.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got nothing but time,” she says. She sits on the ground next to me and rummages through her giant bag, producing an oversized scarf. She wraps it around my shoulders. I’m instantly warmer.

“What did Alan say when he called you?” I ask.

“He said you were drunk and got in a fight and wouldn’t leave. He said your mom said if anyone could talk sense into you, it would be me. I don’t know why she thought that; she doesn’t even know me.”

“She was right though,” Alan says. “He’s already acting more normal.”

I sigh. “Joni, this is Alan. And that’s Aimee.”

“We met,” Joni says.

“Right.”

There are a few moments of silence.

I wish I could stand up, take Joni’s hand, and transport her far away from here without saying a word. But there are three pairs of eyes on me, and they want answers. Joni wants to know what’s going on, and Alan surely wants to know who the hell Joni is and why my mom thought she would be the answer to all my problems. I don’t know what Aimee wants. Probably to go home.

Okay, easy part first.

“Joni and I work together at Whole Foods. She goes to Clinton Central. We’re…uh…friends.”

Joni’s eyes are flat. “Friends. Sure. We’ll go with that.”

“You know what I mean,” I say to her, trying to lower my voice but knowing Alan and Aimee can hear every word. I lace my fingers through hers. “We never talked about…”

“You guys are going out?” Alan asks. He doesn’t sound amused. “Isn’t that, you know, kind of soon?”

I close my eyes. Guess we’ve come to the hard part already. “Alan, please, shut up.”

“Soon?” Joni asks. “Soon after what?”

I open my eyes to find Alan staring at me like I’ve got salamanders crawling out of my ears. “She doesn’t know?”

“Ohh, is he talking about your ex?” Joni asks, trying to catch up. “I guess I knew about that. How long ago did you guys break up, anyway?”

“Jesus, Ryden,” Alan says. “Does she even know about Hope?”

“Who’s Hope?” Joni looks back and forth between us. “Is that your ex?”

Alan groans and looks to the sky in exasperation. “I can’t believe this. No,” he says. “Meg is his ex. And she’s not his ex, she’s dead. Hope is their daughter. Come on, Aimee, we’ve wasted enough time here. Let’s go.” He drops my phone at my feet.

The whole time Alan is giving his rather succinct little speech, I watch Joni. Her eyes don’t leave mine, so I have a perfect view of the betrayal taking hold with each revelation.

I squeeze her hand and beg her, silently, to stay, to please just hear me out.

But then Alan backtracks to us. “Oh, also, I’m not going to pick up Hope from day care or watch her after school anymore. I know you’ve been taking advantage of me wanting to know Hope, and for a while, I didn’t care because it made me feel close to Meg, but I’m not putting up with it anymore. I’m joining yearbook, and from now on, I’m going to live my own life.”

“Go ahead,” I mutter. “I’m done with soccer anyway.”

Alan stares at me, openmouthed. “You’re unbelievable.”

Then he and Aimee leave—for good this time—and Joni yanks her hand from mine and scoots back so no parts of our bodies are touching. But she stays.

It’s just me and Joni, sitting on the grass on Shoshanna’s front lawn.

“Start at the beginning,” she says levelly. “And don’t leave anything out.”

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