I hear the shower running. It’s probably Adam, but there isn’t time to wait. I have to go now.
I hop on my bike, a sick wintry feeling in my stomach as I pedal. I skid through a patch of ice, and the bike begins to wobble. I lurch to one side, but somehow manage to right myself and pedal even faster. My lungs begin to burn as I suck in too much freezing air.
When I get to the house, I’m sweating despite the cold. Russell’s car isn’t in the driveway. I feel a flash of relief, but then the fear amps up again. That doesn’t mean he never came home. He might still know. And if he does…
Think good thoughts.
I park my bike in the garage and go to my room, the silence ricocheting off all the walls, the cold air from the fast ride still in my lungs. I change into a clean shirt and sweatpants, but I’m too nervous to do much else besides sit in the center of my bed. Then slowly, slowly, my muscles loosen, and I let myself lie on my back until the light begins to change.
The thought of sunset brings a fresh wave of nerves. I don’t remember much of what happened last night after Camila poured vodka into my cup, but I remember sleeping deeply.
I wish Adam could sleep over.
Or that I could sleep at his house again.
But I know neither thing can happen.
I climb out of bed, calm enough now to open my trunk and fish out an Elian Mariner book. The glossy cover is smudged and cracked from so much handling. There’s a white line right through the center of the lilac people—the aliens with lilac skin and feathery manes, all tall and slim and androgynous like lilies. The ones who could escape their frozen planet if only the shadow man—the towering monster with insect wings and mouths full of sharp teeth at the tips of all his fingers—would let them go.
I sit on my bed and turn to the first page. It begins the way every Elian Mariner book does, with his mom and dad tucking him in, then shutting off the light. In the dark you can still make out his bed and his toys and the ship in a bottle on his dresser.
Turn the page and the bottle starts to shake.
Turn again and the glass disappears.
Soon the ship starts to grow, so big the room has to expand to fit it. Somehow Elian’s parents never discover what’s happening, but he’s not dreaming—it’s magic.
Elian climbs aboard, and the ship floats like a ghost through the ceiling, into outer space. He sees the stars and a tiny earth and it’s so beautiful until—
I hear a noise.
Someone is opening the back door. My stomach starts to hurt and my ears tingle as I listen. The jingle of Russell’s keys. His footsteps on the hardwood floor.
My wildly beating heart is so loud, it’s hard to hear anything else as I wait for him to either go up the stairs or come down the hall.
I’M WALKING AND texting my way through the hall on Monday when I spot Mom coming out of the main office. For a second, I get a PTSD-style flashback of her menacing my middle school principal.
“Mom?” I say, and she gets this suspicious, caught-in-the-act look on her face. “What are you doing here?”
She straightens, her expression fierce all of a sudden. “Meeting with Mr. Pearce.”
“Oh—I swear that whole intercom thing wasn’t me.” The Game might’ve gotten a little out of hand during first period. But Allison totally didn’t have to accept the dare just because she’s an office aide with access to the PA system. Okay, maybe she did, but— “What?” Mom looks completely confused. “No, about Julian.”
“Julian? Why?”
“I just wanted to see how he’s been doing, and that man”—she means Julian’s uncle—“changed his number—not that he’d take my calls anyway—and Mr. Pearce won’t talk to me either. Confidentiality and everything.” She’s getting all worked up and not even bothering to put on the creepy-fake-happy smile.
“Mom, everything’s cool. You just need to take some anxiety drops.”
That suggestion goes over the way it usually does, with her being mildly offended at first, then saying, “Maybe you’re right,” with a sigh. “I need to get back to work.” The bell rings. “And you need to get to class,” she adds, scolding all of a sudden, like she’s not the reason I’m late.
“Okay.” I bend down to give her a hug. “See you at home.”
“WHAT IS HE—YOUR DATE?” Charlie mutters as Adam hands me my shoes.
When Adam asked me to go bowling this Saturday, I didn’t realize Charlie would be coming too. It’s been a week since Emerald’s birthday, and I’ve been getting a ride home from Adam almost every day since. Jesse and Allison and everyone else talks to me, but I think Charlie hates me.
I pretend he isn’t glowering and tell Adam, “I can pay you back.”
“It’s cool,” he says. “It’s like two dollars.”
I’m sitting on a bench in front of our lane, taking off my sneakers, when Charlie asks me loudly, “Do you shave your legs?” Now both he and Adam are staring at the strip of visible skin between my socks and too-short jeans.