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“Kayla was seven years older than me, so she was always there. I thought she would always be there.”
The room is so quiet I can hear the bubbles in our root beer pop and fizz, and I smile at a memory that stops my train of thought.
“She loved Diet Coke, and I could never understand why. Once, she let me take a sip, and it must be what battery acid tastes like.”
Eli is smiling when I glance over at him, his gaze on me so kind and open I want to close the distance between us.
I want to lean up against him and feel his warmth, take his hand.
But of course, I don’t.
“The carbonation in it made it easy to hear when she had one, because it was so loud. Louder than this,” I nod towards his can. “I don’t know if it has a different formulation that makes it happen, but we always thought it was funny.”
I sigh, letting myself breathe in long and slow at the end of it.
“We found a lot of things funny. Kayla could do that, could find the humor in any situation. She made everything easier to deal with, easier to understand.”
When I shake my head, I think of the last time I talked to her, just the two of us in our kitchen the day she died.
“She had a knee injury from soccer, and it hurt her more than she let me know. That morning, that day . . . she was assuring me it would be fine, as she had her usual breakfast, a can of Diet Coke, in her hand, and she put it on her knee, as if the cold could help it.”
Maybe it did help.
But not enough.
“I’ve never lost anyone close to me, so I can’t imagine what it would be like.”
Everyone has always said they’re sorry when they hear I had a sister who died.
Eli doesn’t say this in addition to this admission, and I’m relieved I don’t have to hear it.
“Her friends are so cool. I wish we hadn’t moved away so I could see them, or at least, I could have seen them a lot before they graduated.”
Sarah and Cassidy will be around during winter break, I remind myself, and the warmth that spreads through me at the thought has nothing to do with the fire a few feet away from us.
“Would she have put up with a boyfriend who acts like Josh?”
I’m not expecting this question, which is loaded in ways I’m not prepared to answer.
Not now, maybe not ever.
“I shouldn’t have asked. None of my business.”
His voice stops as his mother’s rises from another room.
“What time do you need to be home?”
How long have we been talking, I wonder, and although I’m not sure what time my parents will return, I figure I should get back in case they get back earlier than I estimate.
“Are you afraid of them, your parents?”
Before I can answer his mom, Eli surprises me again with a question I should be able to answer, but I can’t.
It’s not fear, is it?
“Come back anytime, honey.”
After I’m bundled back up and Josh’s mom shakes her head at his usual outdoor attire, she pats me on the shoulder and points at the dark red scarf looped around his neck.
“Is this your influence?”
I nod and shrug as he looks around, as if he’s avoiding her gaze.
Her laughter makes me want to stay, and his easy way of telling her he’ll be back in a little bit only adds to that desire.
“If you want to talk more, let me know.”
Eli holds out his hand when we reach the end of my driveway, our walk back to my house silent and comfortable, although I’m dreading heading back inside alone.
I realize he’s waiting for me to give him my phone so he can put his number in my contacts, so I dig it out of my coat pocket and swipe up, noticing there are several text messages.
All are apologies from Josh.
Fortunately, none are from my parents, so they aren’t back yet.
“Thanks, for everything.”
My voice sounds loud in the still of the cold night, an echo in the sky that surrounds us from one side to the other.
His fingers are pink from the icy air.
“Anytime, I mean it.”
When he hands the phone back to me, he speaks again before I can tell him goodbye.
“Don’t worry about Josh. Let him go. Any attention you give him will just feed his ego.”
He’s right, I know, but what about the attention Eli gets?
How is that different?
If Eli kissed me, it wouldn’t feel like an attack. He wouldn’t want me to feel pressured into it, and he would think of me before himself, before his own feelings about it.
I open my mouth but it takes me a minute to form the word I need to say, because I can’t believe I’m thinking about Eli kissing me.
“Goodnight? I’ll see you Monday?”
His own words sound like questions, and I realize I’m standing here with my mouth open while he’s waiting for me to tell him I’m fine, that he can go back to his cozy house with the warm fire and interested, loving parents.
I don’t begrudge him that.
I really don’t.
“Sure. Be careful going home.”
He nods and starts to back away, so I do the same.
Our gazes stay locked until I reach my front door and he’s partway down the street, his soaking wet feet stopped by a chunk of ice in front of him on the sidewalk.
I wave and turn away, sorry I had to come back home at all.
Homework takes me longer than it should on Sunday, as my mind drifts from my time with Eli last night to the newspaper note, along with the anonymous text.
The sender hasn’t texted any additional information, and it occurs to me tomorrow is Monday, and I'll need to check out this new clue in less than a day.
The band room isn’t in use for most of the day, just during the three band periods and sometimes after school for private lessons.
If I’m not mistaken, the implication from the text is the teacher is using it for private time with a student, which is gross as well as inappropriate.
What if the band director knew?
I cringe, forcing the images out of my mind before they can take solid root.
Besides, I don’t know for sure this is what is going on, if that is what the text means.
If, in fact, it is even from the person who wrote the original note.
I wonder if I should have told Eli about all of this, since I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t share it with anyone else, but I don’t want to break my promise not to involve anyone else.
My phone buzzes as it rests in the middle of my bed, and I leave my desk to see who’s calling and if I should answer.
Josh has continued to text apologies, although there are fewer of them than there were yesterday, and I hope he isn’t trying to actually talk to me now.
I’m not ready for that, but I’ll have to do it face to face tomorrow whether I’m prepared by then or not.
“Hello?”
Eli hums a little on the other end, and I smile to myself as the tone of his voice relaxes me.
I realize now I really needed a break from everything I’ve been thinking about today, and he somehow managed to call at exactly the right time to lead me into it.
Even if he is unaware of this.
“How’s your day going, Mia? Do you need a root beer or anything?”
I fall onto the bed and stretch out, groaning involuntarily.
“I’m fine. My mom would never let me have root beer, so while I appreciate the thought, it would be a pointless endeavor.”
He hums again.
“Have you been reading our English assignment? You sound so literary.”
This is true, and his perceptiveness makes me laugh.
“You caught me. Do you ever do that, just pick up the style or tone of whatever you’re reading, even for a little bit?”
I hear a long sniff, and wonder if he has a cold.
Or if it’s just a result of his refusal to wear a warmer coat.
“Probably, although I read manga most of the time, except for school assignments, so I don’t know how that would carry over into my everyday talk. I guess it could happen.”
Cassidy likes manga, and I’m about to ask him what series he likes to see if they are anything I recognize from her favorites when he continues.
“Do you want to walk to school together tomorrow? I don’t think we leave at the same time, otherwise we would have run into each other before.”
I wonder why I haven’t thought of this myself, and nod as if he can see me.
“Sure. That’s a good idea.”
The silence between us feels awkward, but I’m not sure why.
“Mia? Are you worried about Josh because you’re afraid of him?”
He’s wrong, and I immediately feel defensive, because he’s already asked if I’m afraid of my parents, too.
And I’m not.
I don’t think so.
“No. Why do you think I’m scared of everyone? Is that how I seem to you?”
My tone is a little icy, like my bedroom right before the heat kicks on and begins to flow over my feet from the floor register, although I don’t mean to be cold to him.
He’s concerned, and it comes across with every word he’s said.
“No, it doesn’t. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, text me the time and I’ll meet you at the end of the street. Don’t study too hard, okay?”
This time, I know the silence means he’s gone, and I wish I had stopped myself from being so rude.
If he’s worried I’m afraid, I must have given him that idea myself, so it’s not his fault.
The rest of the day goes as any other Sunday, with more homework, reading, and dinner time during which my mother actually smiles at me, but only because I refused the bowl of tiny buttered potatoes I usually love.
I can’t possibly eat much, not with my mind so scattered, and I head back to my room wondering if I should call Eli back.
Instead, I start to text him, but I can’t think of anything to say except for a time to meet, and another thank you for last night.
For listening to me, for sharing the warmth and kindness he enjoys with his parents.
For being the first really good friend I’ve ever had.