Page 2 of The Last Thing You Said

I smile. That first day of school, I was so nervous, I threw up on Trixie’s shoes, but she wanted to be my friend anyway.

I wasn’t Lulu yet, not when we met. It was Trixie who first called me Lulu—then Ben and their parents. I felt special, unique, remarkable. So much more than boring Lucy. Even as we got older, when I was with the Porters, I was Lulu.

It was like I was a part of their family.

No one calls me Lulu now.

A car pulls into the driveway, a 1989 Formula 350 Firebird, black.

“Ben!” Emily squeals, and hops up again. “Ben’s here.”

Ben. Ben’s here. My heart sinks to my toes and rebounds back up to my throat.

I swallow, stand up, and brush my chalky hands together.

I can almost hear Trixie’s voice in my head: Be really brave, Lulu.

Her voice, vibrant and silvery, is fading.

Emily stands on the sidewalk to wait for Ben. She hops up and down, first on both feet, then alternating. She squeals again as he comes around the front of the car, tapping his knuckles twice against the gleaming hood, and crosses the driveway to her. I move closer to the porch, hoping to disappear into the whitewashed, morning-glory-covered lattice.

I love to spend time with this sweet, funny little girl who is now the age I was when I met her cousin, my very best friend in the world. There is always a nagging feeling that Ben will show up when I’m with her, though. The fear. The small hope.

“Ben!” Emily screams as he scoops her up in a hug. He is tall, with broad shoulders and lean, muscular arms. A swimmer, like his sister. When he lifts Emily above his head, his blue St. Croix Rod T-shirt hikes up, and I catch a glimpse of his smooth stomach above the waistline of his ratty cargo shorts. He’s already tan, his hair washed out to a light brown, curls sticking out the sides of his baseball cap.

“Hi, Miss Emily.”

Be really brave.

BRB—our code.

It’s what Trixie used to say when I needed an extra push—to climb the stairs of the tall slide in the school playground, to leap onto a balance beam, to climb the one hundred thirty steps to the top of the Fire Tower.

It was all worth it—the rush, the gymnastics medals and accolades, the view from the Fire Tower, my world stretched out before me, Halcyon Lake and miles of jack pines and all the places I loved.

Those things were easy compared to this.

You should tell Ben how you feel. It will be worth it.

He notices me, glances in my direction and away in half a second. My heart skips, and I let myself think he might smile at me like he used to, his deep brown eyes flashing.

“Oh, hey, Lucy,” he says, his voice dull and flat. “What are you doing here?”

Lucy. Not Lulu. Not anymore.

“Lucy’s my babysitter,” Emily says.

He drops her back down to the sidewalk. “Oh, yeah. I always forget.”

“No you don’t!” Emily cries. “Are you going fishing?”

“Yep. Where’s your dad?”

“Dunno.” Emily plops down and picks up her chalk to finish coloring in the bright blue wings of a butterfly.

“I gotta go. See you later, Emily.” Ben’s so good with her. She adores him.

I haven’t said one word. The pounding of my heart in my ears slows and melts a little. My wonderful Ben.