“I do,” he croaked through the lump in his throat. And it was true . . . in this moment, anyway. Despite years of antipathy at worst, apathy at best, he suddenly realized there were feelings there, buried under all the anger and bitterness.
“We care for each other, but we don’t love each other, not like we should. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of worrying about what everyone else thinks. I just want to give Lisa her money so she can take care of Ronni. . . . I just want to stop fighting.”
He nodded, relating to the feeling. But ending a marriage should not be done on a whim. His wife was being reactive, she hadn’t thought this through. “This will change your lifestyle, Kim. A lot.” It wasn’t intended as a threat, but it sounded like one. Still . . . Kim had to be warned. If they sold up and gave all their profits to Lisa, their lives would have to change drastically. He couldn’t afford two mortgages on his salary, not without Kim contributing. “You’ll end up in a tiny apartment. No more Pilates, salon visits, shopping, lunches . . .”
For the first time, Kim’s composure faltered. “I don’t care,” she snapped, getting up off the couch. “All I care about is giving Lisa her money.” She stalked off, disappearing somewhere into the bowels of their house.
Jeff stayed where he was, collecting his thoughts. His wife was in shock; she wasn’t being logical. When Ronni got better . . . or, God forbid didn’t get better, they would have a rational conversation about their future. Sure, Jeff and Kim were unhappy, but plenty of married people were unhappy. That didn’t mean they had to destroy the life they’d built together. And Kim couldn’t just walk away from him. She had nowhere to go! She didn’t even have a job! This wasn’t the end of their marriage, it was just . . . a turning point.
He got up, went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Even Kim couldn’t begrudge him a drink on a day like today. As the bitter liquid poured down his throat, he resolved to fight for his marriage. . . . But why? Was it automatic? Expected? He didn’t know. He drained the bottle and reached into the fridge for another. Returning to the couch, he sat alone in the dimly lit living room, sipping his beer. As the alcohol fogged his thoughts, his analysis of his marriage, his life, became even more convoluted. Jeff didn’t know what he was fighting for—and he didn’t know why. . . . He just knew he wasn’t ready to let it all go.
hannah
SIX MONTHS AND FOUR DAYS AFTER
Hannah sat in English class and stared out the window. It was the third week of junior year, but it still felt new . . . strange, and different, like she’d changed schools but she hadn’t. Her teacher, Ms. Chan, was assigning homework, and Hannah knew she should pay attention, but her focus remained on the damp parking lot outside the window . . . and on Lauren Ross’s car.
It was a MINI Cooper, not the luxury model Hannah would have expected Mr. Ross to buy for his daughter. But maybe the smaller, cheaper car was punishment for Lauren driving Ronni to drink drain cleaner? Hannah wasn’t making light of the incident, but the way all the parents had reacted was pretty comical. Hannah’s parents had decided to blow up her life; Lauren got new wheels.
Lauren didn’t go to Hillcrest anymore, her parents determining that the school was to blame for their daughter becoming the anti-Christ. They transferred her to an all-girls religious school where they wore demure uniforms and prayed every morning. Darren and Monique Ross must have hoped Lauren would find new, pious friends with charitable life goals, like building an orphanage in India, or teaching refugees to speak English. But if Lauren had friends at her new school, she didn’t spend much time with them. Almost every day, Lauren returned to the Hillcrest parking lot, sat in her compact car, and waited.
Hannah tore her eyes from the soft grayness outside back to the harsh fluorescence of the classroom. Ms. Chan was writing their Hamlet assignment on the whiteboard, her marker tapping along the shiny surface like a manic woodpecker. Hannah dutifully copied the words into her notebook, but her mind remained fixed on the occupant of the car outside.
The change in social order since last year was absolute. Lauren and Ronni were gone, Sarah Foster was on top. The stylish Sarah had long been poised for a takeover: she was pretty enough, cool enough, and ruthless enough. The only question that remained was which of her sycophantic friends would become her number two. Sarah was the new Lauren, no question; the jury was still out on the new Ronni.
Hannah’s gaze drifted from her paper to Noah Chambers, sitting across the room, third desk from the front. Last year, Hannah would have been thrilled to have a class with Noah. She would have struggled to maintain a decent grade, distracted by his proximity, his woodsy scent, his square jaw, and broad shoulders. . . . Last year, he had been her boyfriend . . . for a few months at least. It seemed like a daydream, a blip, like it never really happened. Was it normal to have such intense feelings for someone one day and feel basically nothing for them the next? She should ask her parents.
In a way, Noah’s transformation was the most remarkable. Last year, he’d been cool and cocky, roaming the school with his popular, arrogant posse. This year, he was sullen and withdrawn, traversing the halls with a scowl, keeping to himself, except for Manny Torres, a bookish kid Noah knew from elementary school. Apparently, Noah’s parents had come down hard on him after the Ronni incident. (Despite their former relationship, Hannah knew nothing of Noah’s family life. They’d never really gotten beyond talking about music and parties and their mutual love of ramen.) But Noah’s parents had determined he’d been running with a bad crowd and they were concerned about his character. No one knew how they enforced it, but their son had turned himself into a studious loner at his parents’ request.
As if on cue, Noah’s former best friend appeared outside the window, walking, with forced casualness, toward the MINI. Adam must have skipped last period, or just walked out of class early. The kid was untouchable. He was the reason for Lauren’s presence in the school parking lot practically every day. They’d been dating since the summer, brought together by Ronni’s trauma and its subsequent fallout. Had Lauren liked Adam all along? Was that why she had turned on Ronni? No one would ever know . . . except Lauren.