“Oh?” my mother said. “When is that?”
He withdrew an apple. “Tonight,” he said, taking a bite. “We’re heading out in a couple of hours. You guys have any plans?”
My mother shook her head.
“Where’s Joseph?” I asked.
“At a friend’s house,” Mom said.
I opened my mouth to suggest they go out, but Daniel beat me to it.
My mother eyed my father. “Your Dad’s pretty busy, I think.”
He looked back at her. There were a thousand unsaid words in their glance. “I think I could take the night off.”
“Awesome,” Daniel said. “You deserve it. Mara and I are going to go plan a bit, and then I’m going to take a quick nap before the party.”
God, I could kiss Daniel right now. “Me too,” I said, following his lead. I pecked my mother on the cheek, and whirled around quickly, before she could notice the thin sheen of sweat on my skin. I made my way to my bedroom.
“So you guys are set for the night?” my mother called after us.
“Yup!” Daniel yelled back. I nodded and waved behind me before turning the corner into the hallway. We met up there.
“Daniel—”
He raised his hands. “You’re welcome. Just … relax, okay? You look like you’re going to throw up.”
“Do you think they bought it?”
“Yeah. You did good.”
“But what about Dad’s case? He can’t drop it, not because of me—” I swallowed hard, and tried to steady my balance.
“I’ll make a huge deal about how great you’re doing tomorrow before Noah gets here. How much help you were with the party.”
“You’re amazing. Seriously.”
“Love you too, sister. Go lie down.”
Daniel and I departed for our respective rooms. It had grown dark out, and the hair prickled on the back of my neck as I passed the family pictures. I turned the other way, toward the French doors that looked out on our backyard. With the hall light on, the darkness outside seemed opaque and oddly, each time I approached the glass, I was seized with the sense that there was someone, something right outside—something slinking, something creeping, something—no. Nothing. Nothing there. I made it to my bedroom and darted over to my desk, to the bottle of Zyprexa sitting on it. After a week, my mother trusted me enough to keep the whole bottle in my room. I didn’t remember if I’d taken one this morning. I probably hadn’t. That’s why the whole Morales thing—it was a coincidence that she died. Choked. A coincidence. I shook out a pill into my trembling hand, then tossed it to the back of my throat and swallowed without water. It went down slowly, painfully, leaving a bitter aftertaste on my tongue.
I kicked off my shoes and climbed into bed, burying my face in my cool cotton sheets. It was well after midnight when I awoke, for the second time in my life, to someone pounding on my bedroom window.
Déjà vu settled over me like a wet wool blanket, prickly and uncomfortable. How many times was I going to have to relive this? I was blind and nervous as I stepped out of bed and crept to my window. My heart lodged in my throat as I reached to open the blinds, readying myself to see Jude’s face.
But Noah’s fist was raised mid-knock.
44
HE WORE A RATTY BASEBALL CAP WITH THE brim pulled low over his eyes, and I couldn’t see much of his face except to tell that he looked exhausted. And angry. I opened my blinds and the window and warm air gushed in.
“Where’s Joseph?” he asked immediately, a note of panic in his voice.
I rubbed my aching forehead. “At a friend’s house, he—”
“He’s not there,” Noah said. “Get dressed. We have to go. Now.”
I tried to arrange my thoughts into a coherent order. The panic hadn’t set in yet. “We should tell my parents if he isn’t—”
“Mara. Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once.” My mouth went dry, and I licked my lips as I waited for him to finish.
“We’re going to find Joseph. We don’t have much time. I need you to trust me.”
My head felt thick, my brain cloudy with sleep and confusion. I couldn’t form the question I wanted to ask him. Maybe because this wasn’t real. Maybe because I was dreaming.
“Hurry,” Noah said, and I did.
I threw on jeans and a T-shirt, then I glanced at Noah. He was looking away from me, toward the streetlight. His jaw tensed as he chewed on the insides of his cheek. There was something dangerous beneath his expression. Explosive.
When I was ready, I placed my hands on the windowsill and launched myself onto the damp grass outside my bedroom window. I swayed on my feet, off-balance. Noah reached out to steady me for half a second, then hurried ahead. I jogged to catch up with him. It took effort—like the swollen, humid air was pushing back.