Page 56 of The Last to Let Go
But that’s not what happened.
She sniffed and tucked her hair behind her ears and said simply, “Okay,” as if we’d just told her we’d be ordering out for pizza, or something. Then she stood and walked into the kitchen. We heard some dishes clanging and the refrigerator door opening and closing. Water running. I looked at Aaron, as if to say,What the hell is she doing?And he shrugged and shook his head in that way he always does when he doesn’t give a shit. I set the snowflake book down on the coffee table, stood, and walked into the kitchen to find her ripping open a packet of hot chocolate and pouring it into a big mug—one with penguins, her favorite—the half-full bag of mini marshmallows open on the counter next to her. She turned to look at me. “Want some?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I backed out of the kitchen and into the living room. I put on my coat and scarf and gloves and walked out the door. Aaron didn’t ask where I was going and I didn’t tell him either. I came to the park. Dani texted me about a million times. But I turned my phone off.
I keep circling this giant boulder in the very center of the park. I examine it from all angles and it brings back all these memories of Aaron and me when we were kids—the boulder seemed even bigger then. We’d convince each other that we’d found fossils of baby dinosaurs embedded within the surface, or we’d jump off it, pretending we could fly. There’s a little ledge carved out of the side that used to be a good foothold for climbing, but now it’s the perfect height to take a seat.
I walk over and sit on that timeworn shelf. I pull my knees into my chest and let my back rest against the solid wall of ancient rock—no doubt deposited here by some glacier during the Ice Age, though I’m sure it doesn’t contain any baby dinosaur fossils. As the cold mass cradles me, shielding me from the wind, it makes me wonder if there was a moment when all of this could’ve gone another way. Maybe that moment was two million years ago—that glacier could’ve veered slightly and set a whole different path for the river our ridiculous town was built up around. It could’ve curved in the direction of the coast and turned this whole city into a wide, deep cut in the earth, with this boulder sitting at the very bottom of a lake, miles below, no one ever knowing it even existed. And then my parents wouldn’t have lived here, their parents wouldn’t have lived here, and all the ancestors before them, all the people who found this place, would never have lived here, and Allison and Paul would never have met, maybe never even existed. I wouldn’t exist either. And maybe that’s a reasonable price to pay not to be here in this mess, feeling the way I feel, right now.
Then again, maybe that moment was the day he left her stranded without her shoes at that restaurant when they were our age. Maybe if Mom hadn’t given him another chance. Maybe that was the day it all could’ve changed. Or maybe it was the fight between Dad and Aaron, the one that caused the grape juice stain. What if Dad had seen me standing there, scared, in the hall and realized how wrong he’d been? Maybe it was the day I found Aaron on the roof. Or maybe if Mom had left. Moved in with Jackie when Aaron was a baby.
It seems like there should be a specific moment in time. A clear event. A point in our history when they could’ve chosen another path. Something we could look back on now and know for sure,Yes, this is where it all went wrong. Or maybe it was all like a slow-moving glacier, the escalation, the damage it was causing underneath indiscernible to the naked eye. Maybe Caroline was right about people being like water—it does what it does and there’s no stopping it.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIAR
I STAY HOME FROM SCHOOLthe rest of the week. I lie. I tell Dani I’m still sick. She asks if I need anything. She offers to make me soup. She wants to bring me my missed assignments, share her notes. But I tell her no. No thank you. That’s okay.
On Friday she texts again:r u sure? I don’t mind...
I’m fine, really. Thank u tho <3
*sighs* well... i’m sitting outside of your building right now
“Shit,” I whisper. I look around. It’s not too crowded at Jackie’s today. “Hey, Owen?” I call into the kitchen.
“Wassup?” he answers, not looking up from the counter where he’s dividing a pie into eight perfect slices.
“Could you cover for me? Five minutes. I need to make a quick phone call.”
“Uh-huh,” he mumbles, still not looking up from his work.
I grab my coat and go outside into the cold to call Dani.
She picks up on the first ring. “Hey.”
“Hi, so listen... I’m not actually at home. I’m at work.”
“I know, your brother told me.”
“My brother?”
“Yeah. I just met him. We ran into each other. He was coming in. I was looking at the names on the mailboxes, trying to figure out which apartment was yours.”
I feel my heart pounding, the sensation in my fingers retreating, a tiny panic attack coming on. I can’t speak. I can’t hide. I’m caught. She’s going to know everything about everything.What did Aaron say to her?
“I thought you were sick?” she asks.
“I—I am. I mean, I’m not. I was. But I’m not now. It’s just—it’s been a weird week.”
“Why are you lying to me?” she asks, except she doesn’t sound mad. She sounds like she’s asking a rational question, but it’s not one that I’m prepared to answer. Thankfully, she keeps talking. “You don’t have to do that. I wouldalwaysrather know the truth. If you’re having a weird week and you need some space, just say that. Don’t lie to me. Don’t push me away like that. Not when we’re finally getting somewhere.”
“Okay,” I whisper, unable to understand how she always makes honesty look so easy. “I am having a weird week,” I tell her. “But I don’t need space. Not from you, anyway. I couldn’t really bring myself to go to school. It’s complicated family stuff. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Hey, go back to work. We’ll see each other later, all right?”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
