“Okay, you’ve got a deal.”
I hang up, slide the phone to the other side of my bed, and pull my pillow into the curve of my neck. I grind my fist into the mattress, wishing the thought of being back in school dealing with people again didn’t feel so heavy, like so much work.
My phone buzzes my eyes back open about an hour later.
SEAN MILLS.
Just wanted to say good night.
I smile and write back, G’night. : )
I get that liquid rush feeling through my veins, just remembering Sean’s kiss and his hand on my neck. I fall asleep, thoughts of Maisey fading out and focusing, instead, on the memory of Sean’s lips sliding into mine, warming my body beneath my sheets.
****
Wednesday morning eventually creeps into my room and just opening my eyes feels like a major feat. The alarm blares and Mom’s words from the night before ring just as loud, “You’re going to school tomorrow or I’m bringing you to the doctor.”
I pull myself out of bed and into the shower for the first time since the wake. After scrubbing my face, my shower caddy unsuctions from the wall, spilling everything onto the floor. In defeat, I slide down onto the warmed tiles, letting the scalding water run over my knees. I grab my razor from the floor, not even trying to shake the image of what Maisey might’ve looked like on her last day. Was this how she did it? I slide the pad of my middle finger over the razor’s smooth edge, tears springing to my eyes. The pain in Mom’s eyes as she’d gripped my hand on the Morgans’ doorstep and at the funeral parlor. She didn’t say it but I knew what she was thinking. She couldn’t handle losing me. If Maisey’s parents were ever okay before this, I can’t imagine that they’ll ever be okay again. I think of Anne and Tera, sitting as two in the library after school, instead of the trio they once were. They’ll never be the same, either.
I wonder if they both got letters from Maisey. Did they read them right away or are they like me? Afraid of knowing the truth about the kind of pain that could kill you Afraid of finding out if it really is all my fault.
Once the water runs lukewarm, I rise. Fake it ’til you make it. I got this.
When I get to my locker at school, Sean’s leaned up against it, a smile spreading on his face that I can’t help but return.
“Hey, you made it.” He reaches out and brushes his fingers along my wrist.
“Yep. I’m all clear, still a little tired but totally not contagious.”
The warning bell rings, lockers slam, kids start pushing and piling toward the halls as Sean leans in and kisses me on the mouth. His lips linger long enough to make me want to go back home and cuddle up in bed, this time bringing him with me.
Maisey’s empty chair in last period, untouched like a plague, is another cold reminder of her absence—like the rumors, unraveling in the hallways.
Kallie nods toward the empty seat and starts with the same rumor Kendall had brought up at lunch. “Did you hear that her sister found her naked in the bathtub? I’m sure it’s not true but like, who’s saying this shit?”
I cringe. “I don’t know, but as long as we’re willing to listen, why not just keep making the stories crazier and crazier?”
“Right. People are sick.”
Justin leans in, “I heard her friend Anne and the private-school-looking girl are going to pull a double suicide at Prom.”
“Sure,” says Sean. “But only if you do it first, Conner.”
Shandy shushes us over her shoulder.
“Did she just shush us?” Kallie asks loud enough for her to hear. “Class hasn’t even started yet. Simmer down, Shandy. No one’s going to ruin your Prom.”
Shandy rolls her eyes and jerks back around.
Sean sets his hand on my desk just as Nord starts tapping his highlighter. “Call me tonight,” he says. “Maybe we can grab dinner or go study?”
“Sure,” I say, pulling the edges of my mouth into a smile. He turns back in his seat as I nurse the anxiety in my gut. Half of me wants to spend any second I can with him and the other half wants to roll into a ball in my bed and sleep until tomorrow.
EIGHTEEN
What about this one?” Kallie asks, rifling through a rack of dresses at Main Street Formals, Belmont’s only option for formal wear.
I shake my head. “Nothing red. That’s too showy for me.”
“Hey! My dress is red.” Kallie swats my arm with the dress hanger.
“Exactly. I don’t wanna show you up.”
“I wonder what colors the other girls are wearing. Maybe we should check. I ordered mine online, but if anyone even comes close to matching me—”
“You sound like one of them. You’re scaring me, Kal.” I laugh.