I was trying so hard to be in the moment, but as we jumped up and down, I felt like I was outside of my body, watching some girl I barely recognized jumping with joy next to her perfect boyfriend and her perfect friend in her perfect apartment. But it wasn’t really me. Jase’s book had reminded me who I really was.
My smile faded as my mind went exactly where I didn’t want it to go. Why didn’t he look for me? Do I even want to be found?
“What happened, Emi?” Trevor asked.
I took a deep breath and realized I had stopped cheering. “I’m just tired.”
Cara watched me with concern. “Trevor, I think Emi and I need a girls’ night.” She arched her eyebrows at me.
I took his hand in mine and turned to face him. “That actually sounds nice. I could use some ice cream and John Hughes movies.”
“I get it, I get it.” He smiled, pecked me on the lips, and then called over his shoulder, “Have fun, ladies.”
The second we heard the front door close behind him, I turned toward Cara. “Thank you so much.”
“You just want to get back to that book, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Cara smirked. “Then you’re totally going with me to his book event tomorrow to meet him. It’s in San Diego—lucky us.”
My heart started racing. “Um, I can’t.”
“What? Why not? What do you have to do tomorrow?” She watched me cautiously from her desk as I slowly lowered myself to the edge of her bed. “Why are you acting so weird?”
“Because . . .” I sighed. I couldn’t hide it any longer. “Because I know him,” I said under my breath. My heart started beating even faster.
“You know who?”
“The author. J. Colby.”
“What? Are you fucking kidding me?” She stood up from her desk chair, almost knocking it over in the process. “What do you mean you know him? You didn’t even know about this book until a few days ago.”
“I know him, Cara.” I widened my eyes for emphasis.
“Like, in the biblical sense?”
“That’s not exactly was I was implying, but . . . yeah. I know him that way too.”
I could see the wheels turning as she tried to put it all together. “You’re from Ohio . . . and he’s from Ohio.” She stared ahead blankly, like a zombie, then went into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of tequila, and returned. She took a swig and handed the bottle over to me. “Talk,” she demanded.
“I don’t have to. You’ve just read everything you need to know about me.”
Her eyes widened. “So it’s you? You’re Emerson?”
I nodded. “It’s all true. He glosses over some things, but yeah . . . it all happened.”
“Jesus. You haven’t finished yet, I take it?”
“No, I’m at the part when Emerson goes to the Kellers’. So far it’s all true, except maybe the part about Jax’s six-pack.” I rolled my eyes.
She was silent for a minute and then she began laughing hysterically, almost psychotically, until I started laughing too. She buckled over, in tears. “This is insane, Emi. In. Sane. This guy wrote a whole book about you and you didn’t even know it until you started reading it?” She laughed even harder and then stopped abruptly. “So wait . . . does that mean you were in a foster home with four other kids?”
My own laughter died down. “Yeah, but not for very long.”
“Do you have any contact with the little girl?”
I shook my head no. I wished I’d stayed in touch with her. I owed it to her. But like everything else remotely relating to Ohio, I had compartmentalized her away, too afraid to indulge in any memories. “I guess she’d be in college by now.” My eyes welled up again.
“Was it true what happened to her? What you did?”
“You mean before I left?”
“Yeah.”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet, but so far everything that I’ve read really happened.”
Cara stood up and hugged me. “I’m so glad I know you, Emi.” I started crying immediately, giving in to the emotional roller-coaster ride. She pulled me closer toward her. “None of it was your fault. You know that, right?”
Years of therapy had tried to convince me of the same thing.
“Fine, let’s avoid the hard stuff. Tell me more about the guy. Is he as hot as I’m imagining him to be? Was every girl in love with him in high school?”
I laughed through my tears. “His name is Jase Colbertson. He and I used to finish each other’s sentences. He knew me inside and out. We spent so many years together, playing and talking. We wrote hundreds of short stories and spent pretty much every moment together. Up until I went to live with Cyndi and Sharon, he was the only person who ever truly cared about me.”
“He obviously thought very highly of you,” Cara said soothingly as she rubbed my back.