The faded blood stains are still visible, now looking more like dirt than blood.
Sometimes I can’t help thinking, what the hell am I doing here? In the middle of nowhere, Iowa. Living in a mostly empty house. Hiding in a bathtub from something I can’t escape. Haunting me with a past I have to return to.
I feel lost.
While everyone has their whole lives planned out in front of them—even if they’re vague and not set in stone—I have nothing except trying to focus on not leaving this place. I don’t understand why some people have it so easy when, for others … nothing seems to go right.
It’s like trying to figure out my map when I don’t understand the directions.
I instinctively put my hand over my heart when a different kind of cold sets in. It pounds harder. Knowing what’s to come.
The phone rings downstairs.
I sink deeper into the tub and close my eyes.
I’m not sure if I have the strength to fight it this time.
On days like this, it’s easier to just let go.
34.
Harper
Kale’s phone is ringing and nobody is answering. It rings and rings, and my heart pounds too quickly between each one. I hang up. I’m lightheaded because I’m breathing too fast. I close my eyes and focus only on calming myself down. It won’t do Kale any good if I pass out before I can tell him.
And I need to tell him because there’s no way I can’t, right? I make myself believe it.
Uncle Jasper’s truck isn’t in the driveway, and I don’t remember hearing him leave. It doesn’t matter now. Instead of trying to find my car keys, I head out the back door and run the moment my feet touch the yard. Kale didn’t answer the phone, but it doesn’t mean he’s not there. He could be in the shower. Or outside.
I think of all the possibilities as I run through the woods, down the path made so many years ago by kids who never could’ve imagined things would turn out this way. Because this can’t be possible. It just can’t. There has to be some sort of mistake.
I tear through the woods, my feet pounding in my ears louder than my heart. Once I’m out of the trees, I run straight toward his house, the long grass grabbing at my ankles. The driveway sits empty, neither Kale’s car nor his Dad’s truck are here. Then I remember Kale doesn’t have his car anymore. So he could be inside, not bothering to answer the phone because he never does.
I can hardly breathe when I step on the small porch and knock on the door. I let a few seconds pass, and after not hearing anything, I knock harder. “Kale!”
I can’t stand waiting out here. I grip the doorknob and twist. It’s unlocked—I don’t know why I thought it wouldn’t have been—it has always been unlocked. Like Kale’s parents were afraid if they ever locked the door, he wouldn’t be able to come back home. That’s what Libby always liked to think and what Kale liked to believe.
It’s dark and quiet inside, reminding me of the day I came over to find Kale in the bathroom. Nothing would make me happier than finding him there now. I move toward the stairs, not trying to be quiet. At any other time, I would have been. It never feels right entering someone else’s house in the middle of the day when nobody is home.
But Kale is home. I just have to find him.
Natural light pours out the open bathroom door and I slowly walk toward it. “Kale?” I step in the doorway. The bathtub sits empty and cold, hiding no boy for me to find like last time. I glance toward his bedroom—the door is shut, giving me no indication whether he’s here or already gone.
Within the brief moment that I close my eyes, I can see the article I read on the Internet. That horrible moment I wish would’ve never happened. I take those last few steps and knock on his door, hard and impatient. “Kale?” I don’t wait for a response and let myself in.
“Harper?” Kale slowly sits up on his bed, one hand rubbing his head. “What the hell is going on?”
One of the windows has its blinds drawn down, making it darker than it normally is. Then I understand; he was taking a nap. That’s why he didn’t answer the phone or hear me knocking on the front door.
I lean against the doorframe, weak with relief that he’s still here.
“You’re here,” I breathe out. “You’re still here.”
But what difference does that make? It doesn’t change what I saw. That short moment of relief is taken away too soon.
Kale swings his legs over the bed, looking at me through tired eyes. He’s still wearing his jeans and T-shirt. I don’t want to take my eyes off him, afraid he’ll disappear.
“What’s going on?” Then his eyes really take me in and something must give me away. “Harper, what’s wrong? Is it Uncle Jasper?”
“No,” I shake my head, pushing off from the doorframe. He moves a blanket aside, making room for me to sit next to him. It’s not uncommon for him to sleep on top of his comforter, just using an old blanket if he gets cold during the night. I’ve always loved the smell of his room—the smell of him. I don’t want it to ever leave.
“Then tell me what’s so important to—Did you run over here?”
I nod, still catching my breath. “I had to. I—” Why am I suddenly at loss for words? Kale’s eyes aren’t straying, wanting to know what I came here to say. He has no idea. “I was thinking about something you told me, about the past being your future. I just … I’m sorry.”
I finally pull my gaze away and stare at the floor, afraid to admit what I found. Maybe if I don’t tell anyone, it won’t come true.
“Harper … what did you do?” Kale asks, his voice careful.
“I had to know what happens to you.” I try to keep my voice from wavering.
He tilts his head down, forcing me to look at him. “Are you saying you looked me up … in the past?”
The corners of my eyes burn. “Yes,” I whisper.
Kale gets up and runs a hand through his tousled hair. I stare at his back, his hand resting on the back of his neck. He slowly turns around.
“Don’t you think I’ve been tempted to do that?” he asks, burying his hands deep into his pockets. His jaw is tight. “That I didn’t know it was as simple as looking up myself on the Internet? I avoid computers at all costs because once I go down that rabbit hole, I’ll never come out. Years ago, I made Libby and Bryce promise to never look me up.”
“So you don’t know?”