What I Lost

Right after it happened, maybe. But not much longer after that. I’d seen Charlie be an asshole to plenty of people, but he was never mean to me, and that was one of the reasons I liked him so much. He made me feel special.

A horn honked outside. Simone ignored it. “Anyway, he told me he was going to send you his brass ring, and I suggested that he make it a mystery. I mean, who doesn’t want a secret admirer?”

“I can’t believe this.”

Simone continued. “Look, I didn’t know the shit he chose had anything to do with Charlie. But I guess that makes sense. I mean, think about it. He only hung out with you when Charlie was around.”

She was right. We were never alone. Except once. In July. And just like that, I solved the riddle of the umbrella, the one gift I hadn’t been able to figure out.

I’d been walking to work on Route 127. A thunderstorm had rolled in and the wind turned my umbrella inside out. As I tried to fix it, a car roared by me, drenching me in a tidal wave of puddle water. Dirty rivulets ran down my face and silt burned my eyes.

I was so in shock that I didn’t notice Tristan’s Jeep until he’d reversed all the way back to me.

“Hey,” he said. “Sorry about that. You okay?”

I grimaced.

“You’re soaked. Do you need a ride?” I could tell he wanted me to say no, but it was already 1:56. I had four minutes to clock in. Sharon, my boss, was going to murder me if I was late.

My wet white T-shirt clung to my chest like Scotch tape. “Okay,” I said, wiping my eyes, “I’ll take a ride,” and I climbed in, shivering in the air-conditioning.

I’d only been in the Jeep once before, after a beach bonfire a couple weeks earlier. Charlie got wasted after too many drinking games, and Tristan drove us home.

Now water oozed out of my Converse and pooled on his rubber floor mats. Without looking at me, he passed me a plastic grocery bag from a ball of them in the door pocket. “Can you put this under your feet? I just got the car detailed.”

“Oh,” I said, startled, then annoyed. It was his fault I was wet in the first place. “Okay.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence.

The Jeep clock read 2:07 when we pulled into the parking lot. Sharon glared through the Scoops window.

“Thanks for the ride.”

He touched me on my forearm. His fingers were gentle and warm.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

I nodded and hopped out, trying not to notice that I left a butt-shaped wet mark on his leather seat. The second I’d closed the door he was gone, taillights winking.

Even though it was nothing—just a ride—I never told Charlie about it, and I guess Tristan didn’t either. And then Charlie and I broke up, and Tristan and I didn’t speak again.

Until now.





35

On Saturday morning, I put in Earbuds and listened to Tristan’s mix. It was the least I could do, I told myself, since he’d gone to the trouble. I planned to listen to it once and be done with it. I listened to it twice, and during the second time through I found myself warming up to him a little. Not in a dating kind of way or anything. Just a friend way. The mix was really good, full of indie bands I’d never heard of. I couldn’t wait to get home and look up the lyrics on my computer, to see if he’d put as much thought into the message as he had the music. I had a feeling he had. When the very last song was about to start—Kelly Clarkson’s “Stronger,” a totally old Top 40 hit that even I, a total music ignoramus, recognized—I heard a buzz of voices outside my room.

When I opened my door, I found my entire cohort crowded around a narrow girl with dark hair and a Long Island accent I’d recognize anywhere.

Lexi was back.

She’d made it fourteen days. Fourteen stinking days.

“Elizabeth!” she called, a huge smile on her face.

I stiffened.

She walked over to me with open arms. Her face was waxy and her frame skeletal. She looked way worse than when we’d arrived together. I dodged her and she stepped back, surprised.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her profile all angles. “Are you mad about something?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know.” She dropped her arms and looked uneasy.

“I guess I’m just surprised to see you here.”

She placed her hand on my wrist. I stared at it like it burned and she removed it slowly. “Look,” she said, “I didn’t think I was coming back. It wasn’t something I planned.”

“Okay.” I stared at the floor.

“Elizabeth, do you think I did this on purpose?”

I shrugged, still not looking at her. “No. I don’t know.” I looked her right in the eye. “Maybe.” And then I shut my door right in her face.

She’d lied. In her postcards she’d made us think she was making it, that it was almost easy. And I’d believed her.

One thing was for sure: I couldn’t share a room with her now. And since the bed next to me was still empty, there was every chance I’d have to.

Nurse Jill was already at the nurses’ station window when I arrived. “What can I do for you?”

I cleared my throat. “Nurse Jill, I was just wondering if you knew who Lexi was going to room with yet.”

“Are you asking because you would like to share with her again? That’s fine. I’ll let everybody—”

I didn’t let her finish. “Actually, can I request … Well, I mean, she’s nice and all, but…” This was harder than I thought. “I don’t want to room with Lexi again.”

She put down her pen and pursed her lips. “Elizabeth, we only have so many beds here, and unfortunately we cannot allow residents to opt out of having a roommate.”

“It’s just—” Come on, come on … think of something … “It’s just that, well, living with her isn’t good for me. I didn’t realize that until she was gone. She made me want to not eat. She taught me all sorts of tricks to hide food and how to exercise without making any noise.” I was a backstabber, but Lexi was a liar.

Nurse Jill studied me for a long minute. I willed myself not to bite my nails or fidget. I needed to be calm and collected. Like I was telling the truth.

“All right,” she finally said, “Lexi can room with Jean. However, this is not going to be a pattern, Elizabeth. You can’t expect to have a single forever.”

I nodded. I’ll take anybody, I almost said, except a traitor.





36

Mary called me into her office in the afternoon and told me to take a seat. I kept my eyes on her black, ugly leather clogs. Hideous, I thought. We weren’t supposed to meet today, and I was in no mood for surprise therapy.

“I heard you asked that Lexi not be placed in your room,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said, chewing on my nails. “Maybe it was mean, but I can’t be around her right now.”

“Elizabeth, it’s not a matter of being mean. I’m sure you had your reasons. But the fact that you chose not to room with her might be worth looking at together.” She leaned in. “I’m curious. When Lexi left, you said she was inspiring, that she made you feel good about your own recovery. Something has changed, yes?”

My eyes met Mary’s for the first time. “Yes.”

“What feelings did her coming back bring up in you?”

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