And somehow, amid all that darkness and pain and guilt, there was a fierce gladness.
No one had found the body yet. It would have been all over the news. Right? But sometimes cops held news back, if they thought there was foul play.
If they were trying to get someone to come forward.
Her phone pinged beside her. The stolen phone. The one Tyler had gotten her. She picked it up.
Tyler.
What are you doing?
For one fierce moment, she wanted to tell him the truth. That she was miserable. That she was suffering. And that somehow, she was still glad she didn’t have to deal with Stratford ever, ever again.
She glanced over at her notebook that held the extra work he’d given to her. The work she’d spent hours upon hours on. The work she’d been unable to finish.
She couldn’t have succeeded with Stratford. Now, she didn’t have to.
Nothing, she typed back.
Guess where I am
She smiled a little. Where did Tyler hang out? In purple Jeeps? In shady parking lots?
A dark alley.
Look outside
Kinley’s chest did this crazy thing where it tightened and expanded all at once. For the first time all day, she pulled herself out of bed and went to her window.
And there he was, standing outside, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. When he saw her, he pulled a hand out and gave her a salute, and then pointed at her window. The question was clear: Could he come up?
Kinley bit her lip. No. No, he couldn’t. Girls like her did not have boys in their rooms. Especially not boys like Tyler Green. Boys were a distraction. She couldn’t afford distractions.
Still, she slid open her window. The hot summer air kissed her skin.
“Come on,” she said, and sighed, and before she could change her mind, an actual guy had pulled himself up on the windowsill and slung a leg over. He shifted and dropped onto the carpet.
“Tyler,” she said. She was extremely aware of herself—mostly the fact that she hadn’t brushed her hair today. Or her teeth. And that she was wearing giant flannel pants and a huge T-shirt with two crows sitting on a branch that said ATTEMPTED MURDER.
“That’s funny,” he said, pointing to her shirt.
She touched the fabric and smiled a little, impressed that he got it.
“Uh, can you give me a second? I just have to—”
And then she left him there and escaped to the bathroom that she shared with her two little brothers. She brushed her teeth quickly and dragged a comb through her ratted hair. She grabbed a pair of jeans, a tee, and most important, a bra from the hamper and pulled them on.
She looked in the mirror. There. She didn’t look so bad. Today, she looked almost normal. Except there was something different about her face. She leaned on the counter, peering closer. Something strange and old.
Maybe that was what happened to you when you accidentally killed someone. Something changed, deep inside, and it changed the outside.
Maybe no one else would notice.
A knock on the door made her jump.
“Kinley, get out! I have to peeeeeee!”
It was Leon, her littlest brother. She groaned, shoved her pajamas into the hamper, and opened the door to where he was dancing, his hands clutching his privates.
“Thanks!” he cried, rushing past her, and was peeing before she was even out the door. She rolled her eyes and closed the door after him.
And then she went back into her room.
Where Tyler was sitting.
On her bed.
She’d never had a boy near her bed. In fact, other than her brothers, a boy had never even seen where she slept.
“Nice digs,” he said. He eyed her outfit. “I liked the pajamas better, I think. Easier to get out of.” He winked at her—actually winked, like a boy in a novel—and grinned.
She grinned back. She couldn’t help it. She’d gone from complete innocent to having a boy in her bed in no time.
But there was a thing in the air that hung heavy between them.
Kinley could get past it, though. She could get past anything. That’s what she told herself.
“How did you know where I lived?” she asked.
“Your parents are retro. They’re still in the phone book.” He pushed himself off the bed. “And besides, everyone knows who your father is, being a politician and all. I’m surprised he’s listed.”
Kinley wished they weren’t. A few years ago, a group of activists had thrown eggs at their house, screaming obscenities until the police had finally shown up. One had thrown a rock, and it had crashed through the dining room window.
Her father had installed an alarm system after that. And a fence. As if it would stop people who wanted to throw worse things than eggs and rocks.
Kinley didn’t know what to say. She shrugged.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” Tyler said. He began to walk around her room. He rubbed a purple ribbon between his fingers, and checked his teeth in the distorted reflection of one of her trophies. “I wanted to see you.”