What if the real him is dead?
Did my parents know about him? Did they remove him intentionally when they removed Rory’s memory?
But if that’s the case, why didn’t my mother mention him when she told me about my little brother?
We don’t seem to be getting anywhere, sitting in the car, watching our breath mist the windows, so I drive home. Bus Boy and I say goodbye in my driveway. Then he climbs out of the car and starts to walk down the street. I watch him for as long as I can, his figure growing tiny before, in one blink, blending into the darkness.Did he disappear?Or did he just get too far away to see?
I hate that I can’t tell.
I quietly slip into the house, ready to endure another night of tossing and turning, my mind whirring with too many things.
In the morning, the atmosphere in the house is nearly as cold as the one in my car last night. Neither Mom nor Caleb seems sure of what to say to me. I leave without saying anything to them, without even having breakfast.
I corner Katy at her locker before first period. I know she’s used to determining the duration and continuation of her relationships, but she can’t do that with me. I won’t let her. And I need backup. I need my best friend.
“Oh, hey!” She looks surprised, caught off guard when I corner her at her locker. “Sorry I didn’t call you back last night. Working on those monologues iskillingme. Literally killing me. You’re so lucky that you don’t have to perform a piece or anything for NYU. You’ve applied and it’s done, but my process is juststarting. So that’s why I’ve been so busy.” I fold my arms across my chest and let her dig herself into a hole with her explanation. “Plus, my throat has been killing me. Maybe it’s all the practicing, but I told my mom to produce proof of my mumps vaccination by the time I get home today, because I am not one hundred percent sure I’ve had it. And this isnota regular sore throat.”
“I need to talk to you,” I say.
“I’m serious. Cough drops aren’t helping. Am I running a fever?” She grabs my hand and puts it against her forehead.
“You feel fine.”
“I feelawful,” she says, but a second later, she’s waving violently at Mitch Enns, who is en route to class with his football posse but breaks away to pretend to reel her toward him. She laughs and flicks her wrist, dismissing him and the rest of his crew.
“Maybe Mitch gave you something,” I say pointedly, and her eyes snap to mine, hurt at my impatient tone.
She decides to ignore it. “Did I tell you Mitch found my bracelet? It was in his car.”
“I thought you said you droveyourcar the day you hung out?” My voice is still sharp, accusing.
Katy’s cheeks flush. “That was a different day.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “He looked all over for it—he looked through all the dressing rooms at Act! Out! because he didn’t know which one was mine. He checked all the classrooms and the girls’ bathrooms after school and told the custodian I’d lost it. I didn’t even know he was doing all that, but it ended up being in his car the whole time. Can you belie—”
“Katy, you’ve been avoiding me,” I say, cutting her off.
“I’ve been busy,” she says, proving my point by avoiding eye contact.
“I need your help. Urgently,” I say, and my throat tightens as everything I’ve learned rushes into my mind.
Rory.
I’m not imagining Bus Boy.
I have pieces, but I need help ordering them, figuring out where the corners go.
She frowns, gauging my no-nonsense expression, and scans the hallway. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”
We sneak out of the school building as the warning bell rings and wind up in my car, Katy in the same seat Bus Boy was in only hours ago.
“What’s up, Buttercup?” she asks, dropping her backpack on the floor. “Why’s the seat so far back?”
I blink back the memory of my invisible boy’s long legs cramped in here last night, blink back the tears building in my eyes.
“My whole family is so fucked up, Katy,” I say, which was not where I intended to start, but it now seems as good a place as any.
“Hey,” Katy says gently, leaning over to hug me. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“I had a baby brother. Rory.” Even now the name feels poisonous and big and small. It means nothing and everything at the same time. “He died when I was eleven because of a mistake I made. And you know Overton? That brain facility outside of town? My parents—well, my mother—had him erased from my mind there.Erased.”
