chapter twenty

Over the next few months, I get pretty good at pretending that things are normal in my life. Ethan and I go out together most weekends. He is different from Del in every way imaginable. Last year, at a Halloween party off campus, Del and I went dressed as Adam and Eve. The apple tattoo on his arm was a nice touch. This year, Ethan and I stay on campus for Halloween and go to the homecoming dance dressed as—who else?—Clark Kent and Lois Lane.

But it’s not just the physical differences, Del’s wiry build and blond hair compared to Ethan in all his muscled, tall-dark-and-handsome glory. There are so many personality differences that it’s hard to believe I’ve dated both of them. It’s hard to believe how much I care for both of them. Del was sneaky and brilliant to the point where even I didn’t actually know him. And the more I get to know Ethan as his girlfriend, the more I realize that he is genuinely kind and honest and compassionate. He rarely drinks; he isn’t exactly the greatest at holding his liquor. He’d never dream of smoking.

We are together all the time, but things are progressing slowly. When we’re alone, I’m always afraid of him getting too close. The idea of sex feels vulgar to me. I’ve been pregnant and had a child; my body does not feel like a teenager’s so much as it does a woman’s. I remember what it’s like to carry a baby and to give birth. I have had physical experiences that none of my peers can even imagine. They were experiences I never wanted or asked for, but I can’t get them out of my head.

Since we’ve been dating more than four months, the topic of sex has naturally come up. I told him that I wasn’t comfortable with it. I told him that what happened with Del was a mistake that I regret more than anything. True to form, Ethan respected my decision. He didn’t ask questions.

I try not to think about Del. But sometimes at night, when I’m taking out my contact lenses before bed, I slide them to the side and stand in front of the mirror, willing myself not to blink them back into place, just to remember how it felt that first night.

Can you see me?

No.

I can see you.

I know now what he was really talking about. He saw so much more of me than I knew.

Since I’ve been dating Ethan, things between me and Stephanie have been fine. I’m following all of her rules, even though they’re ridiculous, and life has been relatively calm. There are the nightmares that I’m still having, not only about my childhood and the father I never knew, but now about my own baby, the sound of her cries as she was taken away from me. And there’s the worry that eats away at me from not knowing where Del is, whether or not he’s safe, or if he will ever show up to see me. And if he does—what then? There’s the fact that I can barely even look at my father, who isn’t really my father. There’s the fact that I’m still haunted by so many questions that there aren’t answers for. What about the water in my dreams? My mother’s response just didn’t seem to cut it.

By January, after a brutally awkward winter break at home with my parents, Connecticut has a constant blanket of snow covering everything in sight. All of the students are used to the intense cold; we trudge up to school in boots and coats lined with down; we sleep with three blankets to keep warm in the drafty old buildings; we carry premium lip balm and moisturizer pretty much everywhere and stay indoors as much as possible and get used to being shocked on a regular basis from all the dry friction.

But just after we get back from winter break, there’s a brief warm snap. It lasts only about a week. By “warm” I mean that the temperature climbs into the fifties. All the snow melts; you can actually feel the sun as you’re walking to school. So, figuring we should seize the day while we still can, the seniors decide to have a beach party in Groton, at—where else—Amanda Stream’s family’s summer house.

Amanda’s parents are, of course, not in town. With no supervision all weekend, things get a little crazy. There is a huge bonfire on the beach. Inside the house, someone has somehow (I suspect Franny through Mr. Henry, who she’s still seeing) gotten ahold of four kegs. By midnight, the house and the private beach behind it are both full of drunken teenagers.

Ethan and I have been inseparable all night. I feel so comfortable and calm around him. He is so much safer than Del, so much softer in a way. I love that he is genuine and sweet and giving. I love that he does not keep secrets from me. There are times when I feel like I could tell him anything, and he would understand. But, of course, there are plenty of things that I’ll never tell anyone.

We are perched in a lawn chair beside the bonfire. I’m sitting on Ethan’s lap; a huge plaid blanket is wrapped around both of us, and my head is resting on his shoulder as we alternately sip from the same beer. When it’s gone, Ethan nudges me. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Sure,” I say.

With the blanket still wrapped around our bodies, arms around each other’s waists, we walk to the edge of the property. It’s a beautiful night, cool but not too cold. The moon looks nearly full, and reflects off the dark water to illuminate a clear sky full of fat, glowing stars.

“Can you believe this?” Ethan asks, taking a seat in the sand, tugging me beside him. “Look at the ocean.”

“It seems endless.”

He knows about my supposedly inexplicable fear of water. He pulls me closer. “I’m right here,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

“Yes, you do.” I kiss him.

“I’m so glad.” He kisses me back. Before I know it, we’re both on the sand, the blanket on top of us, out of sight from the rest of the party.

Things go from warm to hot in a matter of moments. We are both tipsy, sloppy, loving the feel of each other’s bodies.

“Ethan,” I murmur, “we need to stop.”

“I know.” He kisses my neck, slides his hands up the back of my shirt to unclasp my bra. “Believe me, Em, I know.”

I pull back slightly. “Does it bother you?”

He shakes his head. “I told you, I’ll respect whatever you want to do. Whenever you’re ready.”

But what if I’m never ready? The thought hasn’t occurred to me until now. Things with Ethan are fantastic; they’re definitely serious. Won’t it have to happen sometime?

“I’m not on any birth control,” I say.

He pauses in his effort to remove my shirt. “What?”

The shirt is halfway over my head. “Hm?”

He tugs it all the way off, pulls me even closer so that there’s almost no space between our bodies. He’s already taken his shirt off. We are pressed together close as can be.

He puts his mouth against my ear. “Does this mean you’re thinking about getting on birth control?”

“I didn’t say that. Ethan, just kiss me.”

So he does. As things grow hotter, as his fumbling becomes more deliberate, he murmurs, “I want to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“I know that.” I hesitate only for a moment before responding. I know it’s true. Maybe not the same way it was with Del, but true nevertheless. “I love you, too.”

He’s almost crying. “I’ve loved you for so long, Emily.”

I pause. “You have?”

“Yes. And there’s something I want you to know. I don’t want you to feel pressured. But I just think you should know about it, for whenever the time is right.”

He’s slurring his words a little bit, fumbling drunkenly with the button on my pants.

“Okay.”

“I carry a condom with me. All the time. Every time we’re together. So you don’t have to worry too much about birth control. I’ve got it covered. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Good to know,” I murmur, gently tugging his hands away from my pants, holding them in mine.

“Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“We’re drunk. I don’t want to do it tonight. Not like this.”

He sighs, half-yawning. “You’re such a good girl.” The irony to his statement makes me hate myself a little bit. Then he asks, “Em?”

“Yeah?”

“When do you think it will be time?”

“I don’t know.”

He takes a long, deep breath. “All right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really, it’s fine. I do love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Emily?”

“What is it, Ethan?”

“I think I have to throw up.”

The next morning, Ethan realizes that he lost his watch at some point in the evening. We look for it in the sand, but can’t find it anywhere.

Ethan is the kind of guy who needs to wear a watch. He can’t stand not being on time, not being on top of life in general. So I decide to buy him one for his birthday, which is coming up on January 15.

Of course, it’s also Stephanie’s birthday. On the evening of the fifteenth, she comes into my room and asks, “What did you get my brother?”

Without looking up, I say, “I’m going to sleep with him. That’s his present. Wild sex.”

“Not funny,” she says. “Seriously, I just got back from the mall with his present. I want to compare gifts.”

I show her the watch I bought him. I’m excited about it; it’s almost identical to the old one, except I’ve had it engraved on the back: it says, “To E.P. with love, E.M.”

I smile at her. “What do you think? He’ll love it, right?”

Stephanie frowns. “No. I don’t think so, Emily.” When she looks at me, she’s practically glaring.

I’m confused. “Why not? He just lost his watch last week. I was with him when he lost it. He needs—”

“I know he just lost his watch. That’s why I bought him this.” And she pulls her gift for him out of its bag.

It’s the same watch. I’m not kidding: the same exact watch from the same store.

“It wasn’t just me,” she says. “My mom and I picked it out together. She’s over at Winchester right now, and the three of us are going out to dinner tonight.” She gives me a matter-of-fact look. “I guess you’ll be taking that back, won’t you?”

“Steph, no.” I shake my head. “It’s engraved.” And I show her.

She snorts. “Well, that was stupid of you. I mean, that’s even more of a reason why I should give him this one instead. What’s he going to do after you two break up, Emily? He’s not going to want a watch with your initials on it.”

I can feel my cheeks growing warm. “Who said anything about us breaking up? And you know, he invited me to dinner tonight.”

She looks like she wants to smack me. “I said no holidays!”

“It’s your birthday, not freaking Christmas! Besides, you’re going to be there, too!”

“You’re taking that watch back.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not.”

“You’re not coming to dinner with us.”

“Yes, I am. I was invited.”

“Well, as the birthday girl, I’m officially uninviting you.”

“I don’t think the birthday boy will be too happy about that.”

Stephanie stands up. “You know what? Fine, Emily. How about this? I go to dinner with my mother and brother for our family birthday dinner. My mom and I give Ethan the watch that we bought him. Then, later on tonight, you can give him the watch you bought. And we’ll see which one he wants to keep.”

We are glaring at each other; it’s the first real fight we’ve had since I started dating Ethan. Considering how ridiculous she’s been, I’m surprised there haven’t been more problems before now.

But I know Ethan, and I know he’ll love the watch. My watch. So I say, “Fine. That sounds like an excellent plan.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Good.” She stands up, clutching the watch she bought tightly to her chest. “I’m going over to Winchester now. I’ll see you later.”

Every time it’s somebody’s birthday, the school makes a cake for the birthday boy or girl to pick up after dinner and take back to the dorm. Since Stephanie and Ethan aren’t here, my roommates and I pick up their cakes for them. I drop Ethan’s off at his dorm, and then Grace and Franny and I walk back to the quad with Stephanie’s.

There’s a faculty meeting up at the school tonight, so the dorms are pretty much deserted. It makes it tough to do homework knowing that nobody’s going to pop a head into your doorway (which has to be open during study hall) to make sure you’re getting things done. As a result, after something like forty-five minutes of work, Grace and Franny and I make a collective decision to stop working and give each other manicures.

I’m leaning against the edge of Stephanie’s bed, filing Franny’s brittle nails while she pages through an issue of Cosmo with her free hand. “I’m pissed at Steph,” I say.

“Really?” Franny asks, looking up from the magazine. “Why?”

I tell them briefly what happened with the watches. When I’m finished, Grace says, “Let me see the watch.”

I go into my room and get the box.

When I open it up to show them, I almost can’t believe what I’m looking at. I blink and blink, making sure my contacts are in place. The face of the watch is smashed. Glass broken, time-telling ability defunct.

“It’s broken, Emily,” Grace tells me, suddenly standing at my side. She’s obviously excited, shaking a bottle of purple nail polish, grinning like a maniac.

“Is it? I thought it was supposed to look this way.” I glare at her. “You know who did this?”

Franny gasps. “You think Steph would have?”

“It’s been in my desk drawer since we left for dinner. She left to go over to Winchester … but she could have come back once she saw me leave.” I’m so furious, I can barely think straight. “She’s the only person who knew I bought him this watch. Besides, who else would want to break it?”

“I know, but Emily. That’s so … insane.”

I am fuming. The watch was expensive, but that’s not the point; my best friend broke my boyfriend’s watch. It’s just a watch, and she couldn’t stand the idea of me giving it to him.

“I don’t think Steph would have done that,” Franny says.

I want to slap her for being so naive. “We’re talking about Stephanie. She’s obsessed.”

“You should beat her up!” Grace shrieks.

“I’m not going to beat her up,” I say. I realize that my voice is shaking.

My roommates both look at me with expectation. “You have to do something,” Franny says.

My eyes fall on Stephanie’s cake. It’s a double-layer devil’s food with “Happy Birthday Stephanie!” written in careful cursive icing, surrounded by red and white flowers.

“I know,” I murmur. “I have an idea.”

They both look at me, following my gaze.

“You could poison it,” Grace offers.

“Grace,” Franny says, “where would she get poison?”

“I don’t know. The chem lab?”

They start talking like I’m not even there.

“What kind of poison? She’s not going to kill her.”

“I don’t know, Franny. It was just an idea.”

“You know how bad Emily is in chem.” Franny shakes her head, as if the idea were ever actually a possibility. “Poison is definitely not the way to go. Emily could get arrested.”

“Would you two be quiet?” I snap. “This is what I’m doing. And you two are going to help me.”

I glance from the broken watch to the cake, back to the watch. Then I take a few steps across the room and, with my bare hand, grab a fistful of cake and shove it into my mouth.

Franny and Grace stand there, gaping at me, both of them on the verge of …something. Either laughter or outrage.

“Look at that watch,” I say, my mouth full. “It looks like she took a freaking hammer to it. We are going to eat this entire cake. Right now.”

Franny picks up the watch to take a better look. When she does, shards of glass from the face fall out onto the ground.

She bites her lip. “I shouldn’t. It’s so much sugar.”

“Oh, right,” Grace says, “you really shouldn’t. You wouldn’t want to be a size zero, fatty.”

I take another handful of cake and rush across the room to Franny, shoving it into her mouth. “You like that? It’s good, right?”

“Stop!” Grace shrieks, doubled over laughing. “Wait, wait, I want some. Wait for me.”

We don’t have any silverware, just our hands. The three of us sit in Stephanie and Grace’s room together, in a semicircle around the cake, and shovel it in, bite by bite, until the last crumb is gone.

Three girls, one cake, two crimes. Again and again, it occurs to me how wonderfully, absurdly ordinary all of this is compared to the secret truths I’m living with.

“I can’t believe we ate the whole thing,” Grace says. Her tone is somber as she stares at the cardboard platter and box.

“Stephanie’s going to wonder,” Franny murmurs. “She’s going to expect her cake, and when it’s not here, she’s going to want to know what happened to it.”

“We’ll tell her it never came,” I say. I still don’t know how I’m going to confront her about the watch. What will Ethan think? He’ll definitely be angry with her, but will it make him realize how much she’s intruding in our relationship? I wonder what he would do if he knew she’d forbidden us to have sex. The fact that she smashed the watch almost makes me want to do it with him, just to show her.

Franny shakes her head. “People saw us coming back from dinner with it. She’s going to know it was here.”

“Okay,” I say, thinking. “We have to destroy the evidence.” And I take the box, crumple it up into the tiniest ball possible, and stuff it in my coat pocket. “I’ll be right back.”

I go out to the Dumpster behind our dorm. I stand on my tiptoes and toss in the handful of crushed cardboard. When I get back to my room, the three of us go to the bathroom together and brush our teeth. Then we wait.

Stephanie comes back around eight thirty.

“You guys are supposed to be working,” she says, giving me a fresh scowl. “We have midterms coming up. Em, you’re going to fail everything.”

I stand up. “Oh, like that’s your concern right now.” I do want to beat her up. I want to hit her, to pull her hair, to punch her in her smug birthday-girl face. “Come on,” I say, stepping close to her. “We are officially in a fight.”

She smiles innocently. “Why?”

“You know why! Don’t play stupid.” And I show her the watch.

She covers her mouth with a hand; I can tell she’s trying not to laugh. “Oh my God. Emily, I swear to you, I did not do that.”

“Right.” And I take my index finger and poke her right in the center of the chest. “Don’t bother, okay? It was obviously you. Just wait until I tell your brother.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “You aren’t going to do that.”

“I’m not? I’m putting my shoes on right now. I’m going over to Winchester to tell him. How are you gonna stop me?”

Stephanie doesn’t move. She doesn’t seem alarmed or upset in the slightest. Her tone remains calm and collected. “Franny? Grace? Can Em and I be alone for a minute?”

The two of them rush from the room.

Stephanie takes a moment to stare at me. Then she goes to our bedroom door, opens it to find Grace and Franny pressed against it, listening, and says, “I mean it. This is serious. Emily and I need to talk alone.”

They scurry downstairs. When she’s sure it’s just the two of us, she says, “Sit down, Emily.”

“We ate your cake,” I say. “We ate the whole freaking thing with our bare hands. It was delicious.”

She crosses her arms and says, as cool as can be, “I don’t give a damn about my cake.”

Not the reaction I was anticipating.

The tension in the room is almost enough to make me dizzy. Still eerily calm, Stephanie takes a seat on my bottom bunk.

“It was me. I smashed the watch,” she says. “But not because I didn’t want you to give it to my brother.”

“Really?” I ask. “Then why?”

“Because,” she says, deadly serious, “you don’t deserve to give it to him. You don’t deserve to have anything to do with him.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“I was looking for the watch. I was going to hide it somewhere so you couldn’t find it. And then I looked under your mattress and I found an envelope.”

My whole body goes cold. I keep Renee’s letters in a huge manila envelope under my mattress. I never dreamed that anyone would go rifling through my stuff, let alone looking under my bed.

“And what did you do with the envelope?”

She shrugs. “I opened it. I read some of the letters.” Stephanie licks her lips. She stares at me for a long time before speaking. Even though I already know what she’s going to say, I could almost pass out when she says the words out loud. “Del Sugar got you pregnant last year.”

To hear her say it feels devastating in a way I almost can’t explain. It makes it more real than anything has before, because now it’s out there, broken into the world I’m trying to function normally in—and who knows what Stephanie is going to do with the information?

“Steph,” I say, trying to stay calm, even though I’ve started to shake, “I wanted to tell you. You don’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly. You’re a liar, and I shouldn’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth. What happened to the baby, Emily? Did you get an abortion? Tell. Me. The. Truth.”

I can’t look at her. “I gave her up for adoption.”

“You hid a pregnancy?”

“Yes.” I stare at the floor.

“You told Renee and not me,” she says.

“Yes.”

“Do your parents even know?”

I shake my head.

“Nobody else knows?”

“Del knew.”

“Emily,” she says, “I’m telling Ethan.”

“Oh, Steph, please don’t do that! I’m begging you. I’ll do anything you want me to.”

She nods. “Okay. Then break up with him.”

I don’t say anything. Ethan is a huge part of my life. He’s a huge part of what makes my life almost normal. If I break up with him for no discernible reason, I’ll be losing my boyfriend and best friend in one punch.

“I can’t do that,” I say. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“What does it even matter? It’s not like we can be friends anymore, not after you lied to me all year.”

“But how could I tell you? How could I tell anyone?”

She shakes her head. “You told Renee. You could have told me. I would have understood.”

“You would have? Like you’re understanding me right now?”

“This is different.”

“No, it isn’t. Look, Stephanie, just give me a day. Just think about it for a while. Think about how you would feel. Please? Take some time before you ruin everything. You don’t know the whole story.”

She bites her lip. “One day.”

I let out my breath; I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding it. “And then we’ll talk.”

“Then we’ll talk. But I don’t think I’m going to change my mind.”

“Tomorrow,” I say, knowing it will be here way too soon.

She stands up. “Tomorrow.”

I stare at her as she leaves the room. “Where are you going?”

“To tell on you for eating my effing cake.”