Mrs. Williams opened the door as my hand was about to ring the doorbell. “El—” She stopped mid-name and took a step back, the color draining from her face as she grabbed the doorknob for support. I couldn’t blame her. The rain had washed any trace of makeup, and my hair hung in matted locks around my face. Like this, I guess I did look like me.
I should’ve said something, corrected her initial reaction or walked past her, but I couldn’t. I just stood there, my feet glued to the porch, my mouth forgetting how to form words.
“Maddy?”
I didn’t know whether she was asking me what I wanted or questioning who I was, so I opted for number one. “Hi, Mrs. Williams. Is Josh here?”
She stepped aside and motioned me in. “He’s upstairs. I’ll go get him.”
“No.” The last thing I needed was an audience. “I’ll find him.”
I made for the stairs, forgetting that Maddy had never been in this house. She’d picked me up here a few times. She would sit at the curb and honk her horn until I came out, but she’d never been closer than that. She wouldn’t know which room was Josh’s, never mind jog up the stairs like she owned the place. “Uh … which room is his?”
“Last one on the right. You sure you don’t want me to go get him?”
I shook my head and took the first few steps two at a time. “Maddy?” Mrs. Williams’s voice halted me, and I turned, my eyes dancing across the front door before settling on her. There was still time to leave, still time to walk out that door and keep pretending.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” she finally said.
“Me too,” was what I came out with—a weak, pathetic me too.
The upstairs hall was empty, the lights off except the one flowing out from underneath Josh’s door. I knew where the light switches were, knew that if I turned to my left there would be three switches, the middle one a dimmer. I didn’t bother to flick one on; I didn’t need it. This was my second home. I could navigate my way up the stairs to his room with my eyes closed.
I walked the hall on instinct alone, my feet knowing exactly how many steps to take, my hand automatically knowing which door to tap on.
“It’s open,” he called.
I slowly turned the brass knob. Part of me knew I would regret this—admitting to a lie I had every intention of continuing to live. The other part of me, the part guiding my hand, knew I owed Josh an explanation.
I opened the door enough to peek in, still wavering between staying and leaving. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his History notes sprawled out in front of him.
I shook my head in self-disgust. I’d spent countless nights here on that floor, in that exact same position, poring over Physics notes or copying Latin translations. This was the same Josh I had always known, the same one I went to in the past with stupid problems. Why did I want to hide from him now?
He looked up from his homework, his expression guarded. “Hey, Ella.”
I’d heard him utter my name a thousand times before. Heard him yell it at me last month when we were fighting over which indie film to feature in the anime club’s October newsletter, and whisper it to me the next day in school when he was trying to get my attention during class so he could apologize. But never before had it sounded so flat … so matter-of-fact.
“What have I done?” With those whispered words I lost it, the tears I’d been fighting finally fell, poured from my eyes as my entire body shook violently with sobs. Josh’s reaction was instantaneous. He got up and closed the door before dragging me close and pulling me into his arms. I didn’t fight him as he guided my head to his chest. I no longer had the strength or the desire to lie to the one person who’d ever truly known me.
The steady, rhythmic beat of his heart thrummed beneath my cheek as his palm moved soothingly up and down my back. His cheek warmed the top of my head and the constant lull of his voice was peaceful, perfect. For the first time since the accident, I felt safe and warm, and I wanted to stay here, locked in his arms, forever.