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Why did I come here? I don’t want to tell Luca.
There’s an alley right beside his unit. I stand up and walk toward it, and that’s when I hear the talking. Deep, male voices. I don’t care—I almost want to see them—but then suddenly I do care. I don’t want to die tonight. It’s too much for my parents. I scoot myself behind a bush beside his door and hold my breath. As they walk past, tears well in my eyes.
They look…rougher than I’m used to. They sound angry, maybe drunk. Or maybe you’re just sheltered.
But I’m not sheltered.
My sister is dead.
I blink and I’m dizzy. I decide to knock on the door.
I do knock. I knock a lot. There’s no reason I know that they wouldn’t be home, but I think no one is, because nobody answers. I’m too scared to yell his name or knock harder than normal knocking.
I walk into the alley by the building. All the windows I see on the left must be his unit. I look at each one of them—they all have plastic blinds—and then notice the back one is pushed open an inch.
My heart starts beating harder. I can’t reach it, though. Too high. There’s a rusted window unit on the ground. I shove it over on its side and stand atop it. Then I push the window upward with my fingertips. I listen. I’m afraid of Luca’s dad—in theory. But in practice, I don’t care. Maybe tonight, I want things to go really wrong.
I push the window open more and stick my head inside. I smell him, and it’s like a bolt of lightning seeing the twin bed with a dark wood headboard and footboard. There’s a threadbare rug that looks blue. I see his backpack on the bed. I blink around and feel my pulse beat in my eyes and push the window open more and slip inside and walk with care until I know for sure he isn’t in here. I think no one is here.
I venture out into the hall which smells like bread and juice and carpet, maybe.
Oh my God…the house is trashed. Destroyed. No one is in it. There’s no blood. I don’t think I understand this. I start crying because everything good ends. That’s what it all says—every thing that’s not willing to lie will tell you everything will go, and all the good stuff first.
I sit on the lumpy couch and cry from wanting Luca. When the sun rises, I go out the front door and start walking.Chapter Twenty-FiveLuca“Come on, big guy. Careful down the steps.”
Someone’s hand grabs my arm. I know it’s not Elise…but I don’t know…
“Luca? C’mon, man.” There’s Alesso. Hands on my back. “We’ve gotta get into the car.”
She moves beside me. The wrong smell. Through the windshield… There’s pink light on the dashboard. Neon light.
“You sure you have the cash?” she asks.
My eyelids shut.
“We’re all good.”I jerk awake to that sound—
Gunfire.
It’s ringing in my ears as I pat my body, searching for—but it wasn’t—
I lie back…on something cold…and hard. I hear a whimper. My whimper. My shoulder.
I hold onto that arm with my good one, taking shallow, fast breaths till the pain ebbs and I can see all the blood, and know I’m gonna get sick from the smell. I swallow while I try to lean over the side of the tub. Then I can’t control it.
So much…liquor? I can’t move when it’s over. So sick. What did I do last night?
I can smell the blood again. Blood on my fingers.
I go another round and rest my cheek against the cold tub, breathing hard as my heart gallops. When I get a breath, my shoulder hurts so bad I feel like crying out. But…I don’t know where I am. I look around the dark room. Where am I?
Where’s Elise?
I look down at myself. I’m in someone’s tub, my hips wrapped in a rough towel.
Gotta use that to clean up.
My shoulder. Fuck. I’ve never hurt this bad before. I’m dizzy, and I feel sick again, when the door opens and someone steps into the dark room with me.
“Luca? You all right?”
My eyes shut.
Not Elise.
Leo.
Good it’s not Elise. She can’t. I promised her father…* * *EliseA few streets over from his building, there are several blocks where things are open. There’s a corner store with metal bars over the windows and a strip club with a flashing neon pink sign. There’s a parking lot with big, square chunks of asphalt scooped out, piled up inexplicably beside a big, yellow tractor type thing. Beside that are three cars, each one bumping loud music.
I don’t walk by them. I turn around beside the strip club, and I run like I am running for a trophy—all the way to Luca’s house, which is still empty.
I hide in the alley, and I wonder if whoever wrecked the house might hurt me, too—if they find me. How stupid was I to go inside and sit there crying?
