Everyone was in good spirits tonight. Including me. Even the dreaded, freezing walk down to the boathouse was okay. Blake and I kept making too much noise and shushing each other and ourselves-so there was little time to worry about the chilly air.
The music inside the boathouse was loud, and everyone was laughing and flirting. Maybe it had always been this way, and I'd just been too self-conscious and worried about everything that I hadn't enjoyed it. Whatever it was about that night, I ended up being bolder than I'd ever been.
"You know what we should do?" I shouted across the beer pong table. "We should- Wait, Blake," I whispered in her ear.
She nodded and then laughed.
"Okay," I continued, "we should play strip beer pong." I smiled and bit my bottom lip.
Our opponents, Cam and Johnny, laughed and said that that sounded like a fantastic idea. Johnny had apologized to me earlier in the night, and in my current mood, it had been no problem. The dragon in my chest just seethed a little flame, and then relaxed, waiting for the right time to really explode.
"So every time we make one, you have to take something off," said Blake.
Johnny smiled. "And vice versa."
"Well, that's just not going to matter, because we're not going to give you a chance."
"Oh-ho!" Cam exclaimed. "It's our shot first." He threw it and made it in the middle cup. The crowd around us, which had grown considerably since Blake's and my announcement, whooped.
Dana, who looked constantly on the verge of exploding herself, was sitting straight up in a chair against the wall and staring at Johnny.
Whatever.
Johnny missed. I made mine. Blake made hers. We got the balls back. However long later, however, Blake and I were both in our bras. I could kind of see how easy it would be to rope in these people and herd them like cattle. I get too drunk, I act fun and a little slutty-and suddenly their hearts are mine. No one was talking about Becca.
I was about to take my shot when the boathouse door opened. I'd almost known it'd be him.
The music kept pounding, but the chatter died for a few seconds when he came in. I shot the ball and made it. Johnny sighed and took off his shirt. I didn't want to, but I glanced at his body as he did so. It was a good body. So I guess I wanted to.
I averted my eyes, and unfortunately locked eyes with Dana. She stood and walked over to me, pushed Blake out of the way, and then slapped me hard across the face.
My chest burned. The room was silent but for the music.
Max and Johnny were on her like bouncers, each taking an arm. But still no one spoke.
"I think you know what that's for." Her words were icy and sharp.
"I-I..." My cowardice was back.
"You need me to clarify?" She squirmed in the clutches of her restrainers. "How about you stop fucking him?"
Everyone was looking at me. Waiting for me to confirm or deny with words or with a reaction. I let my face be blank. I would be strong. I had to be. I wasn't going to slap her back. But I had to do something.
"Stop fucking him?" I took a step toward her, feeling the dragon in my chest open its jaws. "Maybe when I'm dead."
I didn't look anyone in the eyes but her. Hers widened and then narrowed.
I grabbed my shirt and walked out. Blake followed me, and we walked to our rooms in silence.
It was snowing. The small snowflakes were accumulating on the ground, creating a soft, delicate blanket. It was the first time I'd seen snow. It seemed appropriate that I should see it now.
For I had never felt colder.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
IT WAS CHRISTMAS EVE, AND I'D ALREADY GOTTEN my first present: I could take off my sweatshirt and squint in the sunlight. I was standing at the arrivals loop at Jacksonville International Airport. Any moment now, my dad would be rounding into sight in my mom's robin's-egg-blue convertible, and I could feel like I was at home again. I could try to forget everything that had happened at Manderley, and pretend-like I had to-that everything was great.
My bag was weighing on my shoulder, the guy next to me was blowing cigarette smoke so directly in my face that it felt intentional, and it still was a little too cold to be in only jeans and a tank top, but I didn't care. I didn't notice any of that. All I could do was snap my gum anxiously, until I finally saw the car.
There was Dad, and there was Jasper.
A grin stretched across my face as I pulled open the door. "Hi!" I waved to my dad. "Oh, Jasper!" He jumped on me, his tail wagging so hard it shook the rest of his body.
I threw my bag and Jasper into the backseat and took a deep breath as I put on my seat belt. I was still smiling like a fool.
"Hey, honey," my dad said, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Hi! Oh, my God, I'm so happy to be home."
"How do you like it? You glad you went up there?"
I nodded and considered how I was going to make it seem like I was in any way glad I'd left Florida for New Hampshire. But before I had to decide how to do that, Dad started to drive and then had to slam on the brakes as someone nearly lurched into us.
"Come on!" My dad laid on the horn. "Sorry, honey. Right. Well, I'm glad you like it up there. You wish you'd done all four years there?"
"Nah."
"And you're here for what, a week?"
"I have to go back January second."
"That's all they give ya? Doesn't feel like long enough."
"I know."
I was soon distracted from the conversation as we drove over the familiar bridge and I could feel the crispy, almost wet breeze on my face. I leaned back and closed my eyes. The sun was hot on my eyelids, but the wind whipping around the convertible was cold. I'd never been more comfortable.
My dad turned up the Eagles on the radio, and Jasper panted in the seat behind me, possibly the only one who understood how incredibly refreshing this car ride was.
An hour later I was sitting at the counter eating my mom's steaming hot popovers, smeared with butter and raspberry jelly, and sacrificing little bits to Jasper at my feet.
"So tell me all about it," my mother said as she leaned on the counter across from me, some flour in her hair. She'd been baking all afternoon, which was clear from the dining room filled with every type of Christmas cookie and four loaves of bread.
I shuddered. I couldn't tell my mom anything.
"What do you want to know?"
"Well, I already know they aren't feeding you enough." She looked at my arms and gave them a squeeze. "Look at that, no healthy fat on your little bones. You're too skinny, mon petite chou!"
"The food is just kind of...prisonlike. It's not a big deal, I still eat."
"Uh-huh." She moved a piece of hair from her eye, putting more flour in it. "I'll send you care packages. I hadn't thought of it-I'd assumed the food would be five-star!"
Ha. "Not quite."
"Okay, so what about your friends? Do you like any boys? You would tell me if you had a boyfriend, no?"
I felt myself blush, and I wished I hadn't. It wasn't the normal, coy kind of blushing. My face was hot because I was filled with guilt and resentment. Max and I hadn't spoken at all since I said...what I said to Dana...and everyone else within earshot.
"Ooh!" she shrilled. "Tell me!"
"I kind of...there's a guy I'm sort of talking to..."
"What's his name?"
"Max Holloway."
"What's he look like-do you have any pictures?"
I didn't want to show her his Facebook. It was riddled with pictures of Her. That she'd tagged. In her albums.
"No, I don't. But he's really, really cute. You'd like him. He's the type of guy you always say are a-dor-ah-bleh." I imitated her accent.
"He is dark-haired? Is he tall?"
I smiled. "Yes, he is. Light blue eyes. His hair comes down about to his eyebrows, and he's got a really straight nose." I was caught in a stare and came to, only to find my mother looking smugly at me.
"You like him a lot. I can tell."
"I mean...it's complicated."
"Why isn't he your boyfriend? He likes you, surely." She looked as though she was ready to turn on him.
"He has a girlfriend."
It was the easiest answer that had any truth to it. I didn't know why, but I didn't want to tell her about Becca. Maybe the reason was that I would never get sympathy from an outsider for being jealous of a girl who had gone missing. But my mom nodded in understanding and turned around to pull out yet another baking sheet. I slipped another bite to Jasper. A second later, I heard the front door open, and looked up to see my best friend.
"Leah!" I screeched as she walked into the kitchen. I practically leaped on her as if we'd been separated by a century instead of only a few hundred miles.
She squeezed me back. "I'm so happy to see you! Michael came, too, he's outside talking to his mom."
Small drop in my stomach.
"Michael?"
"Yeah...we're back together."
My jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" My smile ebbed a little. "But you texted me like a week ago and said-"
"We're working through it. Plus he's the best kisser ever."
My little sister screamed with delight.
"Oh, sorry," Leah said to my mother, and slapped her hand over her mouth.
"That's fine, that's fine," my mom said, and smiled down at the onion she was chopping.
I loved that we were getting ready for dinner and the sun still hadn't set. It was really, really good to be home. But something was different. It was still my house, but suddenly I felt like a guest. A welcome guest, for sure, but definitely a guest.
The house was the same, something that thrilled me and simultaneously seemed inexplicably strange. I'd only been gone a few months, but it felt weird that everything had just carried on without me. My house was my memory, something I'd always be able to conjure up, even when I was ancient and couldn't recognize the back of my hand. But when I wasn't there, it still existed. The doors still slapped and thudded open and shut, flies were still smacked on the outside porch, the fridge still emptied and filled, and my bed was never surprised that I didn't come back.
All without my mind and me holding it together.
Michael, who had a mop of curly brown hair and teeth that looked almost too straight, walked into my kitchen and greeted my parents, and then smiled at me.
"'Ey, girl!" He wrapped his arms around me and shook me. "I've missed you!"
"Michael!" I feigned excitement. Michael and I had never really gotten along. That's what happens when you make my best friend cry hundreds of times. It really irritated me that she'd brought him to my house on Christmas Eve. But if she hadn't, I felt kind of certain she would have just not come. I always tried to rationalize this trait of hers.
Whatever it was that had changed in me lately had no patience for it.
He put his arm around her, and she held his hand. Leah cooed as he kissed her on the tip of the nose.
Yuck.
"Hey, so you're at Manderley Academy, right?" Michael said, adjusting his attention to me.
"Yeah, it's in-"
"I know where it is," he interrupted in that...way of his. "Didn't some girl go missing from there?"
I felt shaken as my two worlds collided. My mom turned. "Missing? What happened? Did you know her?" She looked at me.
"N-no."
"Yeah, she was hot in those missing photos, too. If she had a boyfriend, I bet he's pissed he didn't hang on to her."
Leah thudded him in the chest. "Mikey, shut up. She's missing, it seems wrong to talk about her like that."
"Hang on to her?" I repeated his words. "She's missing, she's not flitting around the world with some other guy."