two

“No, Laura, I’m just as lost as you are about the whole thing,” Mom said, stretching the phone cord between her fingers. Her long hair was thrown into a messy knot at her neck. “I’d just tell her if she raids your liquor cabinet one more time, she’s going to live with your sister in Alpena.”

I sat at the breakfast bar, my flannel pajamas bunched up at my waist. I pulled at the drawstrings. A small, embroidered R followed by a crooked B stared up at me. “Oh,” I said, and Dad folded down the paper and raised an eyebrow.

“Hold on a sec, Laura.” Mom wrapped her fingers around the end of the phone. “Do you know something, Claire?” she whispered, her eyes shining.

“About what, Mom?” I asked, even though I already knew. It had to be about Rae. It always was.

“Rae,” she whispered. “Laura found a packed suitcase under her bed.”

My cheeks felt hot as I ran my thumb over the letters. “Um, no. I don’t know anything about that. I just remembered these are Rae’s pajamas, that’s all. I think she left them last time she spent the night.”

Mom nodded and her face sagged. “Why don’t you get dressed, okay? Tell Ella to get dressed, too. We’ll do your birthday cake before church tonight.” She smiled and the bags beneath her eyes tightened. She pressed the phone to her cheek. “No, I thought she might know what’s going on with Rae, but she hasn’t said anything … ”

My stomach churned as I jumped off the stool, still clutching the giant pants so they wouldn’t end up around my ankles. Even though Rae was only a year and a half older than me, sometimes it felt more like a decade between us. We’d always talked about leaving Amble, getting in an old beater with a guy who smelled like cigarettes and drove fast enough to make the cornstalks blur on our way out of town. But the idea of actually doing it—actually packing up a suitcase and slipping into the night—made me feel a little sick. Not Rae, though.

Dad cleared his throat from the other side of the paper, cutting through my thoughts. “Do you know something, Claire? Why Rae has a full suitcase under her bed?” The words were so quiet that I barely heard them over the rustling pages.

My mind tumbled over Rae’s plans: snapshots of her getting into a car with a guy who had too much hair and a future that was too unclear to see past the Ohio state border.

Just tell him.

I twisted Rae’s initials around my fingers. Dad set down the paper and folded his hands over the headlines. “Well?”

The secret burned in my throat like the cheap grape cough syrup that Mom always made me and Ella take if we even so much as sneezed. I swallowed it down.

“I have no idea.”

Dad watched me for a long moment before nodding. His eyes flicked back to the paper. “Well, if you remember anything, you know where to find me.”

I tried to say something cheery and confident, like “Oh yes, I will most definitely tell you if I hear anything.” But a strangled little noise came out instead. I tugged at the pajama drawstrings as I walked down the hall.

“Mom says to get dressed,” I said, shoving open Ella’s door. She sat in the middle of her room, under her self-made canopy of paper stars and lightning bolts. A riot of rainbow twinkle lights blinked around the window. Remnants of her childhood still clung to the yellowing walls, while posters of bands and boys had started to spread between them like ivy.

“I am dressed,” she said, smoothing down the stripes on her skirt. She blinked up at me. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Ell, it’s winter. You’ll totally freeze.” As I freed her from the too-short skirt, she grabbed at my hand. “Where are those brown pants I gave you?”

She brushed a blond curl from her cheek. “Um, the closet … maybe.”

I raised an eyebrow at her before flinging open the closet door. A pile of wrinkly, sparkly clothes smelling kind of like her Cherry Blast body spray tumbled out. I groaned and started picking through the disaster. “Mom is so going to kill you.”

Ella threw her hands to her hips. “No, she’s not! Have you seen her closet? It looks just like mine.”

I wrestled with some kind of fuzzy sweater to free the pants, smiling as I turned to throw them at her. Neon yellow and black striped tights crawled up her legs until they collided with a blue tank top that looked like someone had sneezed sequins across it. She looked like a tiny, misguided fashion experiment, like a cutout of one of those outfits that showed up in Seventeen and made you wonder if anyone in fashion was sane.

“Please, put these on,” I said, laughing. “And throw a sweater on while you’re at it.”

Ella grabbed the pants, rolling her eyes. I started untangling stray socks and underwear from the closet floor.

“Hey! You need your birthday prize!” she chirped from behind me. A wind chime made of rusty spoons she’d collected from the diner downtown jangled as she opened her desk drawer.

I scrunched my nose. “My birthday prize should be for you to let me destroy that wind chime.” I made my fingers into scissors and pretended to cut the strings free from the knob.

Ella laughed, smacking my hand away. “No way. You may hate it, but this wind chime is the awesomest. I swear, I get good luck every time it rings.” Her hair slid down her neck as she shuffled through the drawer. “So today’s my lucky day, not yours.” She stuck her tongue out.

My heart skipped a beat. I could definitely use some luck, I thought. For a quick second, I considered actually borrowing Ella’s wind chime.

“Here it is!” she sang, pulling out a small box wrapped in her own artwork. “Happy fifteenth birthday!”

“Hmm … what is it?” I shook the box wildly next to one ear and then the other. Making Ella wait was always the best part of opening birthday presents. “What could it be—?”

“Open it, open it!” Ella bounced on the desk chair, her pink cheeks glowing.

“Okay, okay.” I grinned, tugging the lid off the box. Inside sat a small knitted bird. Threads of periwinkle blue and smoky gray yarn wove through the wings. A fat black bead sat in place for an eye. I picked it up and held it in my palm.

“It’s so pretty, Ell,” I breathed. I glanced up at her. “Did you make this?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, nodding. “It’s a bookmark, see? The wings can stick out of the book.” She grabbed the bird from my hand and tilted it so its wing poked upward. “And it’s a bird because I know you want to move away to New York and study clothes and all that stuff. So it’s, like, saying you can fly or something.”

I took the bird from Ella’s hand and ran my fingers over the soft little bumps of yarn.

Ella bit her lip, glancing between me and the bird. “It was Mom’s idea.”

I smiled and reached to pull her into a giant hug. “Thank you so much,” I whispered. “It’s the best present in the whole universe.”

“Hey girls,” Dad said, tapping on the door as he poked his head in. “Mom and I have to run out.”

Ella’s eyes went wide. “Why? It’s Claire’s birthday!”

“I know, sweetheart, we’re so sorry.” Mom pushed past Dad and reached for my hand. “We’re going to stop by Laura’s and see if we can help her talk some sense into Rae.” She opened her mouth to say something but choked back the thought with a cough. Then she said, “She thinks Rae’s going to try to leave again.” She squeezed my fingers, like her words were sharp enough to puncture my skin. But really they just bounced off of me like butter knives, leaving only an itchy spot where they’d been thrown. Rae always said she was going to leave. “We’ll still have cake tonight, promise.”

I slid my hand from hers. “This isn’t the first time she’s packed a suitcase, you know,” I blurted. “She always comes back anyway.”

Rae had tried to run away twice before. Once on her seventh birthday, and once on Halloween last year, still dressed in her evil fairy costume. She always said that holidays were the best days for running away because everyone was too busy to notice until it was too late. But both times Rae had come back on her own, saying it was because she’d forgotten her favorite yellow slippers, or a magazine, or a pack of Diet Coke.

The only difference this time was that Robbie would be driving her. And that between the two of them, they probably had enough money to buy a pack of Diet Coke when they ran out.

“Okay, Telegram, we’re gonna go.” Dad patted the top of Ella’s head and she winced under the weight of his palm or the cheesy nickname; either one. “Claire, look after your sister.”

They walked out the door and Ella plopped back under her canopy, making the stars and lightning bolts dance on their strings. I let the air out of my chest.

Relief flooded over me and my stomach tingled with giddiness. On one hand, I knew Rae would be super disappointed if Dad and the rest of the Amble Police Department (all three of them) discovered her plans and made her ditch Robbie and stay home. But on the other hand, if she stayed home, safe and sound, I could keep the secret and have Rae around.

The front door clicked shut and Ella popped back up. “Come on.” She grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the hall.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked while Ella combed through the coat closet. A pile of mismatched mittens and totally nasty hats began to grow on the floor.

“We’re going on a bike ride.” Ella turned, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve got another birthday prize! A surprise prize. Come on.” She shoved my coat into my arms, and a small wooden box tumbled to the floor.

“Is this the surprise prize?” I asked, bending down to pick it up. Ella grabbed it out of my hands and popped the lid off before I could even guess what was inside.

She scrunched her nose as she peered at its contents. “Ew, no. This is not your surprise prize, Claire.” She picked up a dingy knife from the box and wrapped her fingers around the warped wooden handle. Her eyes narrowed as she examined the tip. “Is that—”

“Blood,” I said. My stomach churned as I stared at the rust-colored splatters. “I think so.”

“Gross,” Ella said as she jammed the knife back into the box and chucked it into the closet. “Dad has the weirdest stuff.”

I swallowed back the sick feeling in my throat. The sight of blood never failed to make me woozy. “Yeah. Probably a hunting knife.” Just a hunting knife. I closed my eyes and forced the vision away. “So what is this surprise you keep talking about?”

“It’s not a surprise if I tell you.” Ella grinned and crammed a purple hat on her head. “Let’s go, or we’re going to be late.”

Our bike tires whirred as we cut through the dirt road and the cold air. The cornfields on either side of us blurred into a smear of brown and dripped over into the cement sky. The wind made my face sting and my eyes water, and a few tentative snowflakes shuddered free from the clouds. I dug my boots into the pedals.

I glanced back. Our house was a little red speck in the middle of broken stalks. The cornfield snapped and rustled in front of me. Ella jerked her bike in between the stalks and pedaled furiously through the snow.

“Ell—wait.” I shoved my bike forward. But the tires just sank.

“Crap,” she yelled. Her tires kicked up patches of snow as she inched through the stalks. “Forget this.” She hopped off her bike and let it fall to the ground. I swung off my own bike and followed her.

“This way,” she huffed. “Right over there.”

We trudged through the field. I shivered under my coat as I stepped over the broken stalks that Rae and I had sat between just two days before. The spot smelled muddy and earthy and like spring. No, the whole field smelled like spring. Like the promise of something about to bloom.

“Ell, does it smell like spring to you?”

She stopped and wrinkled her nose. “Nope. It smells like rotting dead things.”

I touched the dried leaves and they snapped off in my glove. Maybe I just really wanted it to smell hopeful like spring, instead of dead like winter.

“There, look.” Ella pointed to a flickering light in the middle of the field. She bounced and clapped her mittens together. “Come on!”

She pulled me toward her, her fingers around my wrist, my shoulders brushing against the leaves. A head of dark, messy hair poked out from the stalks. A single candle lit up his face.

“Happy birthday!” Grant cried. A cupcake wrapped in silver foil and smothered in chocolate frosting sat in his hand. The flicker from the candle lit up the corners of his grin like a jack-o’-lantern. “For you.”

“Thanks,” I said. My cheeks felt hot and sweaty. I glanced at Ella, who was positively beaming. “Why’d you do this?”

“You’re so dense sometimes, Claire,” Grant said, laughing. “Did you forget it’s your birthday?” He pulled my glove off by the fingertips and set the cupcake in my palm. “Now make a wish before the wind makes it for you.”

I bit my lip. I could wish for anything in the whole world, but all I could think about was the way Grant was grinning and how the freckles on his nose looked just like the Big Dipper, with its handle pointing to his eyebrows. Rae had those same freckles, only hers were sprawled across her nose like a smattering of stars, all disjointed and chaotic. Just like Rae. I swallowed back her secret and the promise I’d made to keep it.

“But what about Rae?” I blurted. I closed my eyes. Every curse word erupted inside of me, at her, for interrupting this moment. But it was too late; Rae had already infiltrated my head. She might as well be standing between Grant and me, pinching the flame on my birthday candle until it died a silent death.

I sighed. “Shouldn’t you be back at your house with your mom, freaking out about Rae and all?”

“Please. My sister’s not going anywhere,” Grant said. “Think about it. If she was really planning on skipping town, would she have left her suitcase sprawled open, poking out from under her bed? Now Mom’s going crazy and wants to keep her on lockdown.” Grant’s eyes flicked to toward the rapidly graying sky. “So seriously, make a wish.”

“Come on, Claire, wish for new clothes!” Ella said, giggling. “Then I’ll grow into them.”

“Okay, I wish for—”

“Shhh,” Grant said, pressing a finger to my lips. His skin tasted like frosting and butter. “You can’t say it aloud or it won’t come true.”

I closed my eyes. I thought about Rae and her secrets knotted up inside me. And then I thought of Ella’s broad grin and dimpled chin and the promises I whispered to her before bedtime each night: to love her, to make her happy, to always keep her safe.

I wish I was the best at keeping my promises, I thought. Especially this one.

I blew out the candle before the wind could steal my wish. Ella clapped and Grant laughed. He pulled a box from his pocket. “One more thing.”

My heart jumped into my throat. Behind me, a small cry came from Ella; Grant’s birthday prize had managed to surprise even her. As I reached for the box, he grabbed my hand and turned it. He ran his thumb over the jagged cut in the middle of my palm. “Where’d that come from?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Just a scratch.” I slid my hand from his.

He nodded. “Here, I’ll hold the cupcake and you take the box.”

“No, I’ll hold the cupcake.” Ella smiled, wiggling her fingers.

“You will definitely not be holding the cupcake,” Grant said, but a crooked grin spread across his face.

I popped off the lid of the box. A flat leather journal sat at the bottom: a wolf’s gray muzzle and sparkling yellow eyes that watched me from between tufts of tissue paper. I sucked in a breath.

“Rae’s always talking about how you guys see the wolves out here,” Grant said slowly, glancing between my pink cheeks and the box in my hand, “and this one looked cool, with the eyes and everything.” When I didn’t say anything, he added, “We got it in town, at that new card shop Candice Dunnard opened, you know, on Main? Rae said you’d know what it meant.”

Suddenly Ella’s warm cheek was next to me, and her hands were pulling the box from mine. She shook out the tissue paper until the wolf journal plopped onto her orange mitten. She blinked down at it before making a decision: “I don’t like it.” She lifted her eyes and watched the cornfield surrounding us, as if a wolf would appear between the stalks any second.

Grant blinked. “Do you like it?”

Something cold slid across my tongue like an ice cube, and my throat swelled shut. The jewels in place of eyes stared at me like watery yellow moons. I said, “I love it. Thanks.”

“Claire, let’s go.” Ella tugged at my sleeve, glancing at the purple bellies of the clouds above us. She gnawed at her chapped lips and wiped her nose with her mitten. “It’s gonna snow.”

I was turning to tell Grant goodbye, Ella practically pulling my arm out of my socket, when I caught his eyes watching me: green and rimmed with yellow, just like the tips of the cornstalks in the summer. Then Grant leaned forward and pressed a crumpled-up piece of paper into my palm. His breath brushed the tip of my ear as he whispered, “Did your wish come true yet?”

I shook my head, just enough that his lips bumped into the skin behind my ears in an almost-kiss. I could feel his mouth curve into a smile against my neck. “It will if you come back later tonight.”

My heart pounded and sweat webbed between my gloved fingers, and I thought that if there really were wolves, like Rae said, and if they knew all of my secrets, then they knew that my answer was already “Yes” before I whispered it into the cornfield.