TWENTY-SEVEN

I exhale.

“My sister has issues,” I say.

“It sounds like it.”

“Who told you about her?”

“No one told me anything. But when that guy in the hall brought her up the other day, I went online and read about what happened. It’s awful. Did she really burn that barn down and kill all those horses?”

“Yeah. She did.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know,” I say. The warm buzz in my head is fading. I need water. I feel parched. Wrung out. “Supposedly she was pissed at her boyfriend for hanging out with some other girl. An ex. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but he’s always stood by Cate, so maybe it is. And she’s never said anything more about it. I don’t think she ever will.”

“Well, what happened to that girl? The one who was in there?”

I shake my head. “Her family moved to Texas. She was being treated at a burn center there, last I heard. It was pretty bad. Not just the burns, but a head injury. The trauma.”

“But your sister, she was messed up before that, right? I read she used to manipulate other girls. Get them to do, you know, things. And that she trashed some guy’s sports car.”

“Mmm,” I say. “There was never any proof about the car. And those girls did what they did with Cate willingly. It’s not like she put a gun to their heads or something.”

Her nose wrinkles. “But still. People called her a witch.”

“It’s just gossip, Jenny. I’m not saying she’s a saint, far from it. But don’t believe everything you hear about Cate.”

“Well, I had no idea. I mean, it must have been terrible for you. A terrible time.”

I shrug. Of course it was terrible. It’s not like something like that can have an upside.

Jenny presses her cheek against my shoulder. “I wanted to ask you about it last night, when we were in Berkeley. But you were already sort of upset. And—”

I bristle. And what? And now she’s drunk and doesn’t care about upsetting me?

But Jenny runs her fingers along the line of my chin, very gently, thawing me a little. “And I wanted you to have a good time. I didn’t want you to be sad.”

“I was having a good time. It’s just…” Right then it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her. About how almost maybe running into Cate is what set off my panic attack last night. About the weird phone calls and messages. About those emails I read.

But I can’t get the words to form.

“It’s hard to talk about,” I say, at last.

“Are you going to see her now that she’s out of jail?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to see her?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know what I want. That’s the truth. I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s okay not to know, right?”

“Is it? That’s something else I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s okay not to know!”

“Hey!” Jenny says sharply. “Stop that.”

I blink. “Stop what?”

“This.” Jenny reaches up and pulls my hand from my brow. I’m stunned. I’m pulling hairs again.

Without even realizing it.

I writhe away from Jenny, sliding her onto the ledge beside me. Then I sit facing forward. I hang my head in my hands and stare at my shoes in the dirt. My feet are huge compared to Jenny’s. Monstrous even.

“You’re stressed about your sister,” Jenny offers.

I nod.

Jenny rubs my neck. My heart thumps in its dramatic-erratic kind of way, and I can feel myself getting worked up. That’s not a bad thing, but the thought that’s rattling around inside me, twisting my gut and stirring up dread, is that I don’t want my hands to go.

Please don’t let my hands go.

“I know I can’t exactly understand,” she says. “But I do know what it’s like to have someone you love get locked up. I’ve got a brother, Tobin, he’s twenty, and he’s had issues since he was a kid—acting out, having rages, unable to control himself. He saw all kinds of doctors, got all sorts of diagnoses, but we had to put him in a residential home when he was seventeen, on account of my parents couldn’t control him anymore when he got mad. He even hit my mom once, gave her a black eye and a concussion. He felt bad about it later, but still. We didn’t know what else to do.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Jenny. I didn’t know that. That’s really sad.”

“Yeah, it is. It’s really fucking sad. At least your sister got out. My Tobin’ll be in there forever.”

Cate wouldn’t be out yet if it weren’t for me, is what I want to say. She shouldn’t be out. She’s dangerous in all her witchy ways, and maybe confession is what my soul needs. Maybe then I’d feel less weighed down by sorrow and shame. But I don’t say those things. I don’t say anything because Jenny keeps rubbing my neck and her hand’s creeping down my shirt, toward my chest, and even lower. I sit very still while she does this, but then she’s laughing again and her breath reeks of booze so I turn around.

“I should get you home.”

Jenny makes dreamy eyes at me. Either she’s half asleep or she wants me to kiss her. I should probably know the difference, but the sad truth is, I don’t.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods. Then shakes her head.

“I don’t feel so good.”

“You want to go?”

“Yeah,” she says. Then: “I can’t walk.”

“I’ll help you.”

 

 

Jenny huddles in the passenger seat. She’s shivering something awful so I put the heat on high. Then I put my jacket over hers. I don’t have a blanket or anything.

“Tell me if you’re going to get sick, all right?”

She smiles at me. “I’m just cold. And tired.”

I nod, putting the Jeep in reverse and backing up. “Good thing we’re getting out of here anyway. These things never end well. Look at that.”

Jenny’s gaze follows where I’m pointing. In the icy night air, juniors Nicky Johnson and Matt Calvin are squaring off in a drainage ditch, throwing punches at each other. Both have their shirts off and it’s like they think making a spectacle out of beating up someone else will give them power. I guess they don’t know it’s the crowd cheering them on that has the power, not them. A bunch of varsity athletes, including that asshole Dane Parker, who must be back visiting his girlfriend, are all standing around with their phones held up, recording the whole thing.

“Remind me not to drink again, okay?” she says.

“I sure will.”

“I feel embarrassed.”

“Don’t.”

“You’re so nice, Jamie. Greta says you’ve always been shy on account of your sister, but you don’t seem shy to me.”

“What do I seem like?”

She snuggles close, leaching my warmth. I put an arm around her as we start to drive down the mountain.

“You seem good, Jamie. Real good. You make me feel safe.”