“You,” Shelby says.
So Ben steps onto a ledge Shelby hadn’t known was there. It’s part of a window well cover that allows him to step up, then haul himself upward so he can look into Helene’s window. Clearly he’s done this before. Shelby stays where she is, knees pulled to her chest, head spinning, her hands covering her eyes. She thinks about the anonymous postcards that she keeps in her childhood jewelry box. Every day she waits even though sometimes there are months in between their arrivals. When she sees one in the mailbox she feels a thrumming inside her. She’s always excited to read them, no matter the message. Be something, with a hive of bees made of gold ink and a girl who’s been stung running into a dark wood. Feel something. A heart held in the palm of a hand. Inside the heart are words written in red ink: Faith, sorrow, shame, hope. Someone is watching over her. Someone knows what she needs.
Ben is silent as he peers into the window.
“What’s it like in there?” Shelby asks.
“Her room looks the same.”
Ben gets off the ledge and sinks back down next to Shelby, close, so their shoulders touch. Shelby uncovers her eyes. “How is she?”
Ben’s beard is patchy, and he smells like smoke and dirty laundry.
“She looks like somebody in a fairy tale. She’s peaceful.”
“Really?” That’s exactly what her mother said.
“She was beautiful back then, but you had more personality. You had a great laugh. I could hear it down the hall in school and know it was you. Actually I was in love with you both.”
“Yeah, well, that person is gone. I’ve become my own evil sister. You said so yourself.”
“I didn’t say evil. And I like you better this way. Really. But I’m freezing my ass off.”
They’re sitting in a frozen patch of ivy that has broken into shards beneath their weight.
“My ass is numb,” Shelby says. But she doesn’t get up. She sends a silent message to Helene. Say something. Call my name and I’ll rescue you.
“When I get my first job, I’m getting a Volvo. Ever see their safety records? Man, nothing can hurt you in one of those. A truck can hit you and you walk out of there in one piece, every limb intact. You’d be safe with me.”
“Are you coming on to me?” The realization that he is dawns on Shelby all at once. She swears a lightbulb goes off in her head, but her skull is so cold she thinks it might shatter.
“I’m sitting in the fucking ivy with you,” Ben says. “It goes way beyond that.”
Shelby moves closer. She’s not interested in Ben, but she’s comfortable with him. Maybe that’s enough for now. When she whispers her breath is damp and hot. “Should I look?”
“You can if you want to. I’ll tell you one thing—that’s not her in there. So I don’t recommend it.”
Shelby thinks over all he’s said. “How long did you stalk her?”
“It wasn’t stalking her. I told you, I was crazy about her.”
“Did you stalk me?”
“What do you think I’m doing right now? Maybe you’re not as smart as I think you are. It’s like twelve degrees and I’m out here on the Boyds’ lawn with you.”
Shelby starts out laughing and then it becomes something else. Ben covers her mouth with his gloved hand so that Helene’s parents won’t hear anything. “Shelby,” he says.
Shelby hears the way he says her name and she knows that somehow he’s fallen in love with her. She’s so stunned she stops crying.
Ben says, “Okay?”
Shelby nods and he lets go.
“I really am freezing,” Shelby tells him.
Ben stands and helps her up. Shelby could have looked in the window. She could have stepped up and held her gloved hand to the glass; she could have climbed into the room, gotten down on her knees, touched Helene’s warm hand, and begged for forgiveness, the way people do on a regular basis, greedy for a miracle. Helene might have blessed her, she might have changed everything that is about to happen and released her from the punishment of being herself. Instead, Shelby follows Ben across the lawn. They go back the way they came, conscious of the sound of their boots in the snow. Crunch. It’s like a tree being chopped down, like a heart beating. The sky is black. There’s the scent of hyacinths cutting through the cold. That was Helene’s favorite flower, not roses.
“I need something hot to drink,” Shelby says.
“Being bald probably lowers your total body temperature,” Ben remarks. He’s taken every science course available at college, and yet he knows nothing about human emotions. Love is a mystery. It’s like an alien abduction. You think you’re on earth, and there you are among the stars.
Shelby doubles her scarf around her head. “Being an idiot probably lowers yours,” she shoots back.