I cross the room to her closet and ease open the door. Her clothes are gone too, probably packed up and given to Goodwill. Some other petite size two could be wearing her favorite navy blue sweater right now.
The only thing left of her in here is the bed, still covered in the same light purple comforter she owned since I met her. I lie down on it, running my hand over the familiar velvety fabric and trying to pick up her scent. But that’s gone too, faded away with time.
Despite how different the room looks, cleansed of any trace of her, I still feel like she’s in here somewhere. Watching me. Judging me for what I’ve done. Lying here on her bed, I can feel her disgust for me. And I don’t blame her. Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of why I came back here—to remember my best friend the way she deserved to be remembered. Instead I got caught up in this crazy romance with Ethan, thinking that if he still wanted me after what I’d done, then maybe it was okay for me to want him too.
But wanting Ethan won’t help me. It just gives me one more thing to feel guilty about. Not only did I cause Aubrey to die . . . I had the nerve to fall in love with her little brother a year and a half later.
I had the nerve to feel happy.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to the quiet room. “I’m sorry.”
It’s just beginning to get light when I slip back into Ethan’s room. He’s sound asleep again, but now he’s on his back, one hand resting on his chest and his head tilted slightly to the side. He looks different while sleeping, young and sweet and vulnerable, like the Ethan I knew before that day in June, when his life was altered forever. Because of me.
Bile rises in my throat. What am I doing here? What have I done?
As quietly as possible, I find my clothes and put them on, every so often checking to make sure I haven’t disturbed Ethan. He doesn’t even stir as I creep out of his room, and then out of his house. The snow has stopped, leaving behind a thick blanket of white. I walk home in the early morning cold, my head thumping like a heartbeat with each step.
twenty-six
Sophomore Year
“GOOD LUCK,” MOM SAID WHEN SHE DROPPED ME off at school for my biology exam.
I grabbed my backpack and climbed out of the car. The June sun beat down on the top of my head, already hot at eight thirty. It was going to be a gorgeous day. I breathed in the fresh morning air and felt the headache I’d woken up with that morning begin to subside. “Thanks.”
My bio exam, along with several others, was due to take place in the gym. I headed straight there and dropped off my backpack at the front of the room as was exam protocol. The gym was only about one-third full, so it didn’t take me long to spot Aubrey.
She sat in the middle of the second row of desks, back straight and eyes trained on the front of the room. I could tell from her stiff posture that she’d spotted me too, but was pretending she hadn’t. Looking away, I sat down on the opposite side of the room, my temples throbbing with fresh pain.
We hadn’t spoken to each other in over a week, since the day I told her about Justin. I’d considered going up to her a million times, but every time I saw her, I remembered all the hurtful things she’d said to me and changed my mind. I’d already apologized—now it was her turn. Ethan had revealed to me that Aubrey really missed me, and she wanted to work things out but was too embarrassed to make the first move. She was mad at herself for misjudging Justin so completely and mad at me too, for not telling her what he’d done right after it happened.
One good thing to come out of all this—she seemed to be officially done with Justin. I never saw them together, and the way he avoided my eyes whenever we passed in the halls only strengthened my suspicions. Either he’d grown balls and confessed, or Aubrey had finally accepted that the boy she loved wasn’t the person she’d thought.
Aubrey was one of the first to finish her exam. I watched as she rose from her seat and carried her booklet to the teacher at the front of the room. Mrs. Gimbal smiled at her like teachers always smile at smart, proficient students, and Aubrey went to dig out her backpack from the colorful pile by the door. Once she was gone, I tried to finish my essay on the various threats to ecosystems, but after a few minutes of crossing out sentences, I gave up and handed in my exam too. I’d done enough.
The first thing I saw when I emerged from the gym was Aubrey, standing by the trophy display case and talking to Ethan. They turned to look at me, two sets of dark brown eyes burning into mine. Ethan seemed uncomfortable, and a hint of sadness flickered across Aubrey’s face before it went completely blank.
She turned back to her brother. “You coming?”
“No, I think I’ll stick around here for a couple of hours. A few people are getting together in the cafeteria to study for the math exam.”
“Okay. See you later, then.” She started backing away slowly, as if giving me time to put some distance between us before she followed me.
As I passed them, I saw Ethan glance at me and then nudge Aubrey’s arm. “Will you just go talk to her?” he said with an edge of impatience that told me it wasn’t the first time he’d said those words.
I paused for a moment with my back to them, waiting to hear her response. But there was nothing but silence, so I kept on walking.
She caught up to me on Dwyer Street, just a few yards from the entrance to the school. When she called my name, I paused and turned around, shading my eyes against the glare of the sun. She was sprinting toward me, her lacy white skirt swishing around her legs and her hair billowing out behind her.
“Hey,” she said, sounding more tired than mad. I felt my first glimmer of hope.
“Hi.” We fell into step beside each other on the sidewalk. I was already sweating through my shirt from the heat. Or maybe it was nerves.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
I bit my lip and stared down at the ground, focusing on the sound our flip-flops made on the pavement. Aubrey’s toenails, I noticed, were painted blue to match her top. “Okay.”
Her fingers went to work plaiting her hair. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry,” she said. “What happened with Justin . . . I should’ve believed you right away. None of it was your fault. I know that now, and I’m sorry.”
The knot that had taken over my stomach for the past few days began to loosen, and I let out a breath. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve told you right away instead of waiting around for Justin to do it. I was wrong.”
A car zoomed past on the street beside us, music blaring out of its open windows. Aubrey glanced up at it, her stride slowing to match mine. We didn’t speak for the next twenty-three steps. I counted.
“Justin’s a douchebag.”