I spent my last dollars on junk food and acetone. I sit on a bench on Spring Street, staring at my phone, trying to get up the nerve to call Luca, Eva, Emmy. Even Macon. But I can’t seem to get my fingers to tap their names. Can’t seem to stop my eyes from leaking, my heart from pounding, my mind from screaming out in simultaneous relief and anger and hurt.
After I asked Mom to get help—?after I made my wish, for better or worse—?Mom escaped to the shower, speechless, and I knew I had to leave right then. I didn’t know if I’d have the strength to stay if I’d waited for her to get out.
And now, I know if I don’t call someone, I’ll go back to that hotel. I’ll try to fix it. Fix her, and I can’t. Only she can do that.
I stare at my phone, flipping between the names of the only people in the world who love me.
There are a few more missed calls from Luca and Eva. Even Emmy called once, but now it’s the middle of the night and everything’s quiet, allowing doubt upon doubt about what I’ve just done to pile up. It’s hard to wade through them. Where will I live? Luca and Emmy are the obvious choice, but do they even want me? Emmy’s got Eva now, a brand-new girl to take care of. Will I be too much? It’s all too overwhelming. I’m too tired, too sad, too desperate to see Eva, and too terrified she’ll turn me away.
But I need to go home.
So I tap on a different name and press the phone to my ear.
An hour later Jay’s peeling-paint Jeep pulls up to the corner of Spring and Pleasant Streets. He doesn’t say anything as I round the front of his car, open the back door, and toss my suitcase onto the back seat before climbing in next to him. He just stares straight ahead, waiting until I’m buckled to start driving.
“Thanks for coming,” I say as he pulls onto I-295.
“Sure,” he says.
Some band I’ve never heard croons out of his iPod, and he turns the volume up. That’s fine. I don’t want to talk either.
He doesn’t say a word until we pull up outside of Luca’s house. It’s the middle of the night, I’ve just left my mother in a hotel room in Portland, and now I’m sitting in my ex-boyfriend’s car, staring at the darkened windows of Macon’s old room and wondering if my girlfriend is still my girlfriend.
It’s almost enough to make me laugh.
Almost.
“You going to tell me what the hell happened?” Jay asks, his hands still wrapped around the steering wheel.
“Is that your subtle way of asking?”
“Is that your subtle way of saying no?”
We stare at each other for a moment, and then I laugh. I laugh long and loud, tears springing into my eyes, and I’m not sure if they’re from actual laughter or exhaustion or sadness or what.
“Did we fight like this when we were together?” I ask, wiping under my eyes.
“Hell, yeah, we did. It was hot.”
“Jesus, you’re such an ass,” I say, but I laugh through the words and Jay grins.
“So,” he says. “You and Eva, huh?”
My eyes widen. “Where did you hear that?”
He shrugs. “I saw her in LuMac’s yesterday looking like someone killed her kitten. I asked Michaelson if she was okay. He asked if I knew where you were. And then I remembered how you used to stare at that Daisy Lowe poster in my room a little too intensely.”
My stomach flip-flops. My heart flip-flops. Everything flip-flops. This is the first time someone I didn’t already trust implicitly—?or trust implicitly by proxy, like Kimber—?has found out about Eva and me. It’s terrifying. My fingers tighten on my bag, my whole body flushing cold and then hot. I brace myself for a jeer, a mean joke, a slur, even anger—?I did sleep with the guy—?but Jay just narrows his eyes at me. He’s even smiling a little.
“I put two and two together,” he says quietly, gently.
I feel myself relax, breath audibly whooshing out of my tight lungs. “Well, aren’t you the little mathematician.”
He gives me a withering look, and I hold up my hands.
“Sorry. Yes. Me and Eva.” I hope. I wish. My eyes drift toward her window again.
“That’s cool,” he says, nodding. And I don’t know if it actually is cool to him—?he’s a teenage dude, and it doesn’t seem all that unlikely that he might get weird or maybe a little judgey or, hell, even excited when a girl who used to like him now likes a girl—?but for now, I’m happy to take him at his word.
“What, no threesome jokes?” I ask.
“Oh, I’ve already made plenty in my head, trust me.”
I laugh. “I have no doubt.”
“You still think I’m hot, right?”
“Oh my god.”
He laughs, but it fades quickly. “For real, though. You all right?”
I bite my lip, rolling his question over and over again in my head. “I think I will be.”
“Okay, then.”
“Okay.”
“See you ’round?”
I nod. “Yeah. Thanks, Jay.”
And then I get out of his car and he drives away. I’m left staring at a dark house—?my house, for all intents and purposes—?and it feels just like coming home.
Emmy answers the door dressed in a tank top and a pair of blue-and-yellow-plaid pajama bottoms, her hair a sleep-tossed mess. She takes one look at my tear-ruined face and the suitcase in my hand before she releases a long sigh, like she’s been holding that breath for years. Maybe she has. Maybe we all have. Then she smiles a sad smile—?part relief, part heartbreak—?and pulls me into her arms.
Chapter Thirty-One
THERE’S NO SIGN OF EVA, BUT LUCA MUST HAVE HEARD my soft knock. He comes into the living room just a few seconds after Emmy lets me in, clad in green pajama bottoms and a LuMac’s T-shirt.
“Where the hell have you been?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer before he yanks me into a hug and gives me a soft noogie.
“I’m sorry,” I say into his shirt. Then I lift my head and meet Emmy’s gaze. “How’s Eva? Is she okay?”
Emmy nods. “Physically, yes.”
“I’m really so sorr—?”
She holds up her hand. “Don’t. You and Eva might have some things you need to work out between you, but nothing about that car accident was your fault. Do you understand me?”
I press my eyes closed and take a deep breath before I nod.
She steps closer. “Do you understand me?”
I keep my eyes open. “Yes.”
“All right.”
Emmy gets me a glass of water and some tissues, and the three of us settle on the couch. I rest my head on Emmy’s shoulder, and Luca’s head rests against mine. We’re like a little domino train half tipped over.
And then I tell them everything that happened with Mom.
“Is she going to stay in Portland?” Luca asks when I’m finished.
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice cracking on the last word.