Josie’s still on the couch in the morning. She’s half in a sitting position and half lying on her side, as if she wanted to sleep but couldn’t move her legs. I look around for Dad and hear the shower running. It makes me slam the wall.
The door’s right there. She could walk right out of it. It’s not like the fact that she’s home means we can trust her.
Though maybe—maybe she wants to stay.
I start to pace and my legs itch. They want to run. I check the window and it’s gray out. Fog. It’s the best kind of weather to run in, where you can’t see two steps ahead of you. It helps you focus. Forget.
But I don’t want to forget anymore. Not with Josie here, and playing my guitar last night, and the scent of almost-gone salt water that I don’t want to wash off yet.
I sit in the recliner and watch my sister. Her chest rises and falls as she sleeps. She’s so quiet and I don’t understand. On TV people go crazy when they detox. They tear shit up. Sweat like pigs. Scream like the world is on fire. But Josie isn’t doing any of that. It’s like there’s nothing inside her anymore.
“Kurt?” Her eyes flip open like she’s a creature in a horror movie, and my stomach rolls into my throat.
“Josie?” My voice is so high it startles me.
“Nothing happened to me, Kurt,” she says, her eyes glassy but hard. She’s answering my question from last night, but her look has punched me through my ribs and grabbed my stomach.
I want to nod and say it’s okay and let that be the end of it. But I can’t.
“Something happened,” I say, trying out the words again. I have a million questions. Like where she’s been and how she got hooked on whatever she’s on, and how she got the money for it. Too many bad things crawl through my brain. Maybe I don’t want to know.
Why.
That’s the big one. Maybe it’s the only question that really means anything.
I wait.
She yawns and nuzzles her face into the pillow, lifting her feet onto the couch. Her bony toes dig into the cushion and I see why Dad’s in the shower. There’s a metal cuff locked around her ankle with a green light that blinks. It’s a sensor. Or a tracking device. It’s the kind of thing you put on a dog.
My hands ball into fists. This can’t be the way we deal with her.
I need to be outside. Now. Before I march into that bathroom and pummel him. I’m almost out the door when her voice stops me.
“Nothing happened, Kurt.” Josie’s eyes peer over the edge of the couch like it’s important I understand this. “Nothing happened to me that didn’t happen to you.”
That can’t be true.
She disappears behind the couch, and all I can see is that thing on her ankle, her foot draped over the armrest. I hate the feeling that hits me next. We both grew up in this house. We both had to deal with Mom and Dad’s shit. But maybe that’s not all of it. She always took me to parties, and drove me to soccer practice before I got my license, and took me out for fries when Mom was passed out and there wasn’t any food in the kitchen. She always made sure I got away from all this. And what did I do? I left her on the other side of that wall crying, where I could hear her. But I didn’t do anything. Maybe part of what happened to Josie . . . is me.
* * *
People rush down the corridor and elbows smack into me like I’m going too slow. Maybe I am. I never spend this much time in a hallway.
I look for Marion, but I don’t see blond among the lockers. I’m not sure why I’m looking so hard. I’ll see her in chemistry. But then Lilith comes into view and without thinking I wave.
“Lilith.”
She turns, surprised, and saunters up to me.
“Kurt Medford. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Uh . . .” I drop my hand and shove it in my pocket. The fact that I even called out her name betrays more than I should have.
“She done gone and messed with your head, now, didn’t she?” Lilith teases, and I shut up. I can’t imagine the two of them don’t talk. “Good giiirrrl!”
Elbows graze my back and I almost shift into their flow and forget this.
“Did you need something, Medford?” Lilith fishes.
“I, um . . .”
She laughs and taps me on the chest. “I get it, Medford. You kiss better than you speak. And yes, if you’re asking, I saw Marion in the library about ten minutes ago. I know, there’s nothing sexier than a girl with her nose in a book, huh, soccer man? Threw you for a loop, now, didn’t she?” She smiles to herself like that’s an inside joke I’m not supposed to get. “I knew that girl had superpowers,” she says, tapping my chest again. “I’m glad she’s finally using them!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t worry about it, Medford,” she says, smiling with too much lipstick. “Just have fun.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, and she squints at me.
“Not like what exactly?” Her eyes narrow, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I know what that tone means. I have a reputation. I get it. She opens her mouth to say something snide, but then her hand grabs my shirt instead and there’s something protective in the way she grips me. “Look,” she starts, her voice getting quiet, and her gaze falls to my shoulder. She pauses, and I’m not sure if she’s about to kick my ass or not. The fabric of my shirt tightens under her knuckles and her jaw pinches. A stream of people flies past us, but she doesn’t budge. I like that this is Marion’s best friend.
“Lilith, I—”
“You’re gonna break her heart,” she says, interrupting me. The fabric on my sleeve pulls tight and she catches my eye—only, her look isn’t a threat. She stares at me, matter-of-fact, like this is something inevitable that she thinks I should know. “I’m not saying stop,” she says quietly. “You’ll be good for her.” She lets go and presses her palm against my shoulder, smoothing out the wrinkles. “But you’ll also break her.”
She starts to walk away and I don’t know if that was a warning or an apology. But either way I don’t like it.
“Hey!”
Lilith looks back, and I shake my head at her. I want to tell her I won’t, but the words can’t find their way out.
She smiles weakly and shakes her head.
“You’re sweet,” she says, then disappears into the crowd.