Page 26 of All the Ways You Save Me
Is it possible she knows something she’s not telling me? “Josie, why did we leave here? It’s been over a decade, and our life on Sandy Harbor is in the past. If you know something, what’s the harm in telling me?”
“It’s not in the past,” she blurts out. “You’re sitting there on the island right this minute, chasing this notion that your childhood crush could still be alive. We left Sandy Harbor for mom’s job, it was time to move on, and that’s all there is to tell. AndAdam died, he’s dead. A social media post won’t bring him back, and it won’t bring back our old life on Sandy Harbor either. You need to find a way to finally dig yourself out of the past and move on.”
Before I can stop it, a tear drips down my cheek. Josie may have been away at school when Adam died, but she knows how much it destroyed me. Adam wasneverjust a crush. He was the love of my life. When he died, I got stuck, unable to move on. I went to college nearby, took a job at the same high school that I’d attended, and got engaged to my closest friend. I never even left Maple Ridge outside of a couple of trips to visit Josie or my mom and a few vacations with Jason. What other life might I have lived if I hadn’t experienced such a tragedy when I was seventeen years old? What other life is still out there for me?
What Josie doesn’t seem to understand is that coming here to Sandy Harbor and chasing the surfer who looks like Adamisdigging myself out of the past and moving on. For the first time since Adam was alive, I’m not just going along with what feels safe and easy. I’m not letting the current pick me up and carry me along. For the first time since Adam died, I’m paddling in my own direction, and I’m not about to turn around now.
Josie’s words echo—childhood crush—and I shake my head.
Adam’s life was never easy, and the pain he suffered could have made him hard and bitter. But instead, it made him care for the people in his life so much more. I remember Adam’s rough hands, gentle on my skin, his eyes searching mine to make sure I felt safe, comfortable, protected—always. If the situation was reversed, and it was me in that video, Adam would have gone to the ends of the earth to find out the truth. Maybe that surfer is Adam, or maybe he isn’t. But I owe it to myself to find out, and I owe it to that boy who—despite everything he’d been through—still managed to love with his whole heart.
FIFTEEN
TEN YEARS AGO
Adam
The sun slants through the canopy of trees overhead, and when the wind blows, a kaleidoscope shifts on the path beneath our feet. With each step, the leaves crunch, and the air smells more like fall. This is usually a hard time of year for me. My mom died nine years ago this October, and then my dad last year. But somehow, the memories don’t feel as painful in this moment as they usually do.
Madeline glances over her shoulder, a smile teasing her lips.
Fall represents endings, dying, but this year it feels like a new beginning.
A cardinal flies past, its red wings flashing. My mom always told me that cardinals are good luck. The bird lands on a tree branch on the path in front of us, and my chest swells with hope and anticipation. It’s been a hard couple of years. Hell, it’s been a hard life. I barely remember a time I wasn’t hanging on by a thread. But for the first time I feel grounded. And it’s all thanks to Madeline.
She’s three steps ahead of me on the path, and I watch hergraceful movements as she sidesteps a rock jutting out of the ground and then gives a little hop over a root bisecting the path. The muscles in her trim calves tighten, and my gaze sweeps upward to the smooth skin of her thighs and the gentle curve of her ass in hip-hugging denim shorts.
Damn. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I still can’t believe she’s here with me. I can’t believe she’s spent every weekend since the first day of school withme. She could have had anyone at school. I’ve heard other guys talking in the gym class locker room about the red-haired new girl. Luckily, none of it veered inappropriate or I would have had to start some fights. But it’s clear she could be with one of the popular athlete-types, or someone in her AP classes who’s as smart as she is. Or Jason. She could have had a guy like Jason—confident, wealthy, on his way to the Ivy League.
He’s my best friend and I know he’d never, ever make a move on her. But I’m also aware that he was interested in her on that first day, and yet, somehow, inexplicably, she chose me. A homeless guy with no family, no money, and an uncertain future.
I take a deep breath as the path curves upward over the hill. Madeline deserves everything, and I’m going to make sure I’m worthy. I’ve been working my ass off at my new job, making deliveries for CyTech Electronics five nights a week, even after my shifts at the autobody shop. I’ve met the boss a few times, and he seems happy with the work I’m doing, so I’m hopeful that there’s a future for me at the company. And I’m here today with Madeline because I want to let her know I see a future for us, too. It’s time for me to open up and be completely honest with her about my past. I hope I’m doing the right thing.
We follow a bend on the path, and about twenty feet ahead, the sun brightens, shining unobstructed through the trees. Madeline comes to a single-lane road that winds up themountain in one direction and back to town in the other. I follow closely behind.
“This way.” I nod up the hill. Unlike the path, the road is wide enough to walk side by side with plenty of room to spare, but Madeline bumps her shoulder against my arm, taking my hand. Warmth creeps into my chest. I look down at her with a smile and grip her hand tighter. I didn’t tell her I’m nervous, but I think she senses it. She’s only been in my life for a few months, but somehow, it feels like we’ve known each other forever.
I know she doesn’t talk about her sadness over her move from Sandy Harbor Island with anyone besides me. Her sister is off at school, and her mom changes the subject every time she brings it up. But Madeline knows that she can trust me, and I’ll always be here to listen. And lately, she hasn’t mentioned it as much as she did in the beginning. I can’t help but think it’s because she’s happy in Maple Ridge. She’s happy withme.
We hike the rest of the way up the hill in silence and then down the other side. It should be close now. Though I haven’t been on this road in over a year, every bend in a tree trunk, every patch of wildflowers is familiar. I spent my childhood roaming these woods. And then we come to a clearing, and my heart goes sideways.
I glance down at Madeline, whose gaze is sweeping across the open field. What will she think? How will she react? I told her I wanted to show her something, but that’s all I said, and I imagine she wasn’t expecting this. The clearing hasn’t been mowed in years, and at some point, the wildflowers took over. Queen Anne’s lace and black-eyed Susans wave in the breeze that blows in from the river beyond the trees. I wade into the field and gather a handful of blooms that are still holding on in the warm fall weather. I used to pick these same flowers and bring them home to my mom. When she got too sick to get out of bed, I’d fill an old mayonnaise jar with waterand set it by her bed so she could see them when she woke up from her increasingly frequent naps.
My eyes prick with unexpected tears.
Madeline turns to me as if she senses my emotion. “Is this where you grew up?”
I nod, too afraid my voice will shake if I try to speak.
“And that was your home?” She gestures toward a trailer situated at one end of the clearing. The metal siding is dented from falling tree branches and streaked with mildew on the side that doesn’t face the warmth of the afternoon sun. The front door hangs halfway off the hinges, and through the frame, it looks like several types of wildlife have moved in. It hurts to see the place like this. I have so many memories of my family, back when my mom was healthy, and my dad was sober, and we were still happy.
“It didn’t always look like this. When I was young, we might have been poor, but my family had pride. My dad took care of the trailer and the yard. And my mom kept it clean inside.”
“And then she got sick?” Madeline’s voice is gentle.
I nod, remembering the low voices after I went to bed in my little alcove. My mom crying, my dad reassuring her.Breast cancer.There were good treatments available. Our healthcare from Dad’s job at the autobody shop didn’t cover much, but he’d get a second job working nights.
“Everything was okay for a while. Sometimes my mom was tired after the treatments, and Dad was at work, so I’d make us sandwiches for dinner and do the dishes after. But she could still do puzzles with me, still read bedtime stories.” I take a shaky breath as the memories wash over me. “Eventually, she started growing paler, thinner. Her hair fell out. She didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to get out of bed. I cleaned the trailer. Left flowers by the bed. And then one morning, Dad woke me up and said my mom was gone.”
