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“See ya,” he said, finally turning away and heading back to his friend.
I gazed across the street, hearing the music from here and knowing I’d made the right decision. I wouldn’t belong in there with them. Could you imagine? Me? Like, having fun?
I’d be wondering what the point was the whole time. I couldn’t not be serious, and he was never serious.
Turning, I picked up my bag, but the flap flew open, and I spotted a packet of papers inside.
Pulling them out, I turned it over and saw “Lolita Study Guide” written on the front.
“Huh?” I mumbled. I’d looked everywhere for this! Including this bag, both of my lockers, my house, the garbage…
What the hell?
But as I looked over the packet, my name written at the top, I saw the questions already completed. All of them. Neat, block lettering in pencil.
I flipped through, inspecting every page and reading every answer, seeing that it was all completed, the answers impressive, even for me, although a couple of the responses kind of pissed me off.
I dropped my hands, staring off. I thought for sure Godzilla and the granola bar was Will, but this was snuck into my locker, as well. And it was done tonight. This wasn’t in my bag before I went swimming.
There was no way he’d done this. Unless he buttered up a girl to do it for him.
It did look like a guy’s penmanship, though.
I raised my eyes, making out his black T-shirt and chocolate-colored hair as he stood near a pool table inside Sticks.
He wouldn’t have to look for me, because I had a question that needed answering.
See you on the bus tomorrow night, Will Grayson.
Emory
Present
I blinked my eyes open, the blurry room in front of
me slowly coming into view. The weight of a truck sat on my back, and I rolled myself over, peeling my face off the pillow.
My arm draped over the other half of the empty bed.
It was just a dream.
I stared at the ceiling, still feeling him next to me in bed, but I knew he wasn’t there. He was closer than ever now, but I felt his absence more than I ever did.
Tears ached behind my eyes, remembering how he felt and how much I really wanted to feel that again right now.
He barely looked at me yesterday. He always looked at me.
God, who put me in Blackchurch? My brother wouldn’t have the clout for this. I’d heard he’d married, but it had been years since I’d seen him. Why now?
No, it had to be someone else. Someone who wanted to give Will his revenge and didn’t give a shit about me.
There were lots of possibilities.
Sitting up, I winced at the soreness in my stomach, and I reached out, tonguing the cut on my lip. It was funny, and I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t mind the pain. I actually kind of liked it. It was familiar. It reminded me that I was alive.
Strange as it was the past several years—free and on my own—I hadn’t felt that in a long time.
Climbing out of bed, I found my glasses on the nightstand and slipped them on, looking down at my boxers and tank top. Aydin had undressed me when he put me to bed, offering me some bottoms from his drawer. I looked around the room, not sure where he’d slept, but he’d stayed out after he patched me up last night.
