SIXTEEN

Later that day, it turns out Hector’s wrong. I don’t have to do any stalking to find my sister.

Cate finds me.

I’m driving in the Jeep with the radio on when I hear my phone—that soft, syncopated rhythm of Monk’s famous “Evidence.”

I glance down at the screen.

Unknown caller.

My pulse picks up. I answer.

But I already know.

“Hey, bro,” she says like it’s nothing, like she can just do this. “Miss me?”

“Where are you?” I ask.

“Where are you?”

My fingers curl tightly around the leather steering wheel. It’s not her deflection that gets to me. It’s her voice. Cate’s voice is the same. Still husky from not enough sleep, not enough food, too many cigarettes, too many—

I take a deep breath. “Driving up Oak Canyon.”

“Don’t crash.”

“I’ll try. Are you with Danny?”

“Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Things between us weren’t meant to be. He’s probably in a frat these days, don’t you think? He probably has douchey friends who wear leather flip-flops and Polo cologne.”

“I thought I saw you with him yesterday. On College Avenue. But that would’ve been too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?”

“College Avenue, huh? That’s interesting,” Cate says. “I guess nothing’s a coincidence. Not for you. But things got kind of heated up there last night, didn’t they?”

“What do you mean?”

“‘What do you mean?’” She mocks me with one of her crueler tones. “God, you’re dense. Well, for starters last night was the night I told Danny about what I might’ve done with one of his douchey flip-flop-wearing frat brothers. That kind of got the shit flying. You know how it is.”

“Wait, what? You did that to Danny? Why?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I guess, it’s just kind of, sort of—you know.”

“Kind of, sort of what, Jamie?”

I swallow. “Nothing.”

“Slutty?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s okay. I am slutty. You think I don’t know that? I let people use me, and when they’re done with their using, there’s less of me and more of them.”

“Stop,” I say. This kind of rambling is classic Cate.

“Hey, you still got that problem with your hands?” she asks.

My head is starting to hurt. A tight throbbing pain. How does she know this? How does she know anything? “Yeah, I do.”

“What sets it off again? Tell me.”

I sigh. “Getting startled. Extreme emotional states.”

“Any emotional state?”

“Pretty much.”

“Mmm, what about sex, then? That’s extreme, right? It’d be funny, too. Like if you were jerking it and almost there, like so close, and your hands went and died on you. Unless, of course, you’ve graduated to finding someone who can do that for you.”

I groan. Why is it that everyone around me is obsessed with my nonexistent sex life? Isn’t that my job? “I’m not talking about this with you.”

Cate laughs, long and hard. “Right. Like there’s any chance you aren’t as cringingly virginal as the last time we saw each other.”

My grip tightens on the phone and that’s when I do pull over and turn the engine off. I unbuckle myself and get out. My ears are filled with the screech of the Steller’s jays.

“Your message said you were coming back to Danville,” I whisper.

“Oh, I might,” she says in her fight-flighty way.

“Why?”

“What? You don’t want to see your own sister?” Cate’s voice begins spiraling up, taking on that edge I know too well. “I’m the only goddamn family you’ve got, James. Me! Just me! That’s it!”

“I know.”

“THEN WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME FEEL LIKE SHIT?”

“No, no, I’m not trying—you said—”

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” In the background I hear a loud crash and what sounds like glass breaking.

“What was that?” I ask. “Are you okay? Is there someone with you?”

There’s more crashing. I think she’s dropped the phone on the ground. Maybe she’s outside somewhere, because I hear a bus go by and voices, too. They sound close. Then comes a bunch of muffled breathing and a frantic, gasping, “Jamie?”

“Yes?”

“You’re still there, right?”

“I’m still here.”

“Good. There are things we need to talk about. You and me. Things you need to know.”

I push my hair back. I’m sweating. What the hell is going on? What does she want from me? I’m the one who knows her secrets. She wouldn’t want that to come out any more than I do. I kick at the front tire of the Jeep. Then I kick it again. “Have you, you know, called Angie and Malcolm yet? I bet they’d want to see you.”

“Fuck you!” she screams, one last time. “You’re an asshole!”

Then she hangs up.