The After Girls

by Konen, Leah

  “I know,” she said.

  Jake paused. He took a deep breath. “I wish I did. I wish there was something I could do to make it better for you.”

  And in a second, Ella had an idea. One that she knew she shouldn’t voice. One that she certainly shouldn’t suggest. But it was there, and she couldn’t ignore it, and if she went through with it, if she convinced him, then maybe she would find something that would make it all make sense. Maybe she could convince Sydney and Ben to actually believe her. Maybe she’d understand why Grace hadn’t told him the truth.

  It was now or never.

  “There might be something you can do,” she said, finally.

  Jake perked up, and even though his mouth didn’t follow, his eyes smiled.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Anything.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll get mad,” she said.

  “Just say it.”

  Ella took a deep breath. She thought about the journal that was sitting right there on the dresser, that she could read if she only could get in there again. The journal that could have the answer that she needed.

  She spit it out before she lost her nerve. “I want to see her room again, and I know Grace won’t allow it, and I know it’s not my place, and I know — ”

  Jake started shaking his head.

  “Don’t be mad,” she said. “Don’t be mad at me for asking. Please.”

  He kept shaking. “No,” he said.

  “I know. It’s too much.”

  “No, not no. Not like that. I’m shaking my head because I can’t believe I’m about to say yes.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “Really?” she asked, relief flooding through her, and promise and possibility and excitement. She was getting closer. In some strange and stupid way she was getting closer to what she needed.

  Jake nodded slowly. “Though Grace will kill me if she finds out.”

  “I won’t tell her,” Ella said before he could change his mind. “I promise.”

  “I know.”

  “How are we going to do it?”

  Jake laughed for a minute. “God, we sound like a pair of bad thieves.” He turned back to face her. “I’m off tomorrow — can you come then? Grace always goes out for a few hours in the morning.”

  Ella nodded eagerly. “Yes. Of course. Yes.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Thank you so much, Jake,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.”

  Jake shrugged. “You deserve it.”

  And she felt just the slightest bit lighter, because she knew that he was right.

  • • •

  Ella walked briskly the next morning. It was a lovely day out. Too lovely. She wasn’t tired — she felt energized. She’d dreamed that she and Astrid were together in her house, in her room, the things Astrid had cherished spread out around them, the books and the makeup and the clothes and the pictures. Astrid opened her mouth. She moved her lips like she was speaking but no words came out. “Louder,” Ella said. “I can’t hear you.” But Astrid just kept moving her lips. Like she wanted to say something to her. Like she couldn’t.

  Soon the house was right in front of her. It was still Astrid’s house. It always would be. She thought of the first time she’d been here. How Grace had opened the door for her and ushered her into the messy place. How it was fall and they ate tomato soup and grilled cheese while planning out their Halloween costumes. How Grace had seemed so carefree. She hadn’t made them clean up their dishes. She let them rip pages out of all her magazines. They’d looked in her bedroom where there was writing all over the walls. Not all of it made sense, but it was cool. Here was a house where you could write on the walls! Ella had stayed over, and Grace had let them stay up as late as they wanted. She played loud music long into the night. They’d had the house to themselves the next morning. Astrid said that any day she wasn’t working her mom would always sleep in really late, whereas Ella’s mom was always hassling her to be up by eight — even on a Saturday. But Grace wasn’t like that. With Grace, there were no rules.

  Ella had never stopped to think whether Astrid had liked it that way. She’d never stopped to think what it was like when she wasn’t over. What it was like for Astrid then. She’d never stopped to think about what the writing on the wall actually meant.

  Ella hovered on the sidewalk near the mailbox, hesitating to walk right up to the door. She felt like she was breaking some rule. Grace had invited her in once, and now she was taking advantage of that. But so many things had changed since then. Things didn’t make sense anymore. It wasn’t as simple as tomato soup.

  She took out her phone and texted Jake: I’m here. All good?

  He responded almost immediately: Yeah. She’s out.

  Ella slipped her phone back inside her pocket and walked carefully towards the door. Jake opened it up before she could even knock.

  He didn’t smile like he normally did. Maybe he was back to protect-the-family Jake. Maybe he thought that this was somehow wrong. And in a way it did feel wrong, sneaking around because the mother of your dead best friend would be mad if she knew what was actually going on. But Ella didn’t care, and apparently Jake didn’t either. He opened the door wide, and she carefully walked in.

  It was weird being in the house with just Jake. In a way, she’d even call it exciting.

  “How’s your day?” he asked, standing in the hallway, obviously attempting to talk about anything other than the one person who’d brought them together. Who’d brought them here.

  Ella smiled. “It kind of just started.”

  Jake laughed. “Yeah, I guess it did.” He walked towards the kitchen, and she followed him in. It was the natural thing to do.

  “Do you want, like, a drink or anything? Some water?” he asked.

  Ella shook her head, and the two of them leaned against the countertops, facing each other. She shoved her hands in her pockets, and Jake stared at the ceiling. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t she just go straight to the room she wanted, to the place that maybe, just maybe, had an answer for her? She knew why. Because she wasn’t supposed to be here. This wasn’t her family. This wasn’t her problem. This was his territory, and even though she was in the door, she felt like he was defending it, like he was walking the line between wanting to help her and keeping up the family status quo.

  So she looked at him and said it with her eyes. Please.

  And even though he’d already said it was okay, he seemed to make a choice, to cross a line, right there in that moment. “I guess you just want to see her room,” he said. Ella nodded.

  “Come on.”

  They walked down the hall as if walking on a tightrope. Carefully.

  Astrid’s door was shut tight. Like, Keep out. You know you’re not supposed to be here.

  “Jake,” Ella said, putting her hand on his arm, and he felt so warm and safe, she wished that she could touch more of him. She wished that she could touch all of him. She wished that she was allowed.

  Jake turned to her.

  “Thank you for doing this,” she said. “I know what a big deal it is.”

  Jake nodded, and their eyes stayed locked. And they were so close, so painfully, excitedly close, that it felt like it would be wrong to pull away.

  But Jake broke their gaze, placing his hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly. He walked in before her, and she followed quickly behind. It was the same as it had been before. Everything frozen in time, as if Astrid had never left.

  Had she?

  They stood there in the middle of the room, and for once she didn’t want Jake near her. She didn’t want Sydney, and she didn’t want Ben. She just wanted to be alone. She knew that she had to be here alone.

  “Is it okay if I just sit here for awhile?”

  Jake nodded. “I’m just going to watch TV,” he said, but before he left, he looked right at her. “Just try to keep things as they are,” he said. “I have
a feeling Aunt Grace would notice.”

  “Of course,” Ella said, even though she had no intention of following that rule. Jake pulled the door behind him, leaving it open just a crack.

  As soon as he was gone, she walked straight to the dresser. She wanted to see it. She wanted to read it. She wanted to take it, damn it.

  But she stopped short.

  The necklace. Astrid’s necklace. The one she always wore. Every day. The one that she had died in.

  It was hanging right there, right on Astrid’s jewelry tree. How had she not seen it before? And in an instant she realized what had bothered her so much at the wake — why she had looked so not like Astrid. It wasn’t just the makeup. It wasn’t just the dress. It was that she had never before seen Astrid without her necklace.

  And in that moment, she realized that the necklace wasn’t buried with her like it should have been. Here it was, hanging with her other chains and lockets.

  Why had this silly key been so important to her? Why hadn’t Grace let her wear it in her death? Ella had asked her once why she always wore it. Astrid simply told her it was the key to one of the drawers in the desk in her house — that she’d put it on long ago and liked it so much that she’d never taken it off.

  That had been answer enough for Ella then. Now, it wasn’t.

  She picked the necklace up, running her fingers along the slim, silky red ribbon that acted as the chain. She held the metal key in her hand — it was lighter than it looked. She squeezed tight, feeling the swirls at the top, the divots at the bottom, and she opened her hand back up.

  But in the hall, she heard footsteps, and she realized that Jake wasn’t going to let her just hang out in here forever. She carefully put the key back in its place — she could think about that later — she needed to get the journal before she worried about anything else.

  Ella ran her eyes along the top of Astrid’s dresser.

  But the journal wasn’t there.

  Ella heard more footsteps, and she didn’t stop to think. Grace had hidden it somewhere. She knew that she had. She opened the top drawer.

  She flipped through, nothing but t-shirts and tank tops. One from the fair. Another for River Deep that the two of them had hand-made with those felt letters you get at the craft store. She pushed the drawer shut, moved on to the next one, whipping it open.

  There were dresses, lots of dresses. Beautiful ones that Ella had borrowed, cotton and silk and polka-dotted and striped. Ella flipped through every one, each bringing to mind a memory, a dance, a party, a day in the woods. And in an instant her finger felt something smooth. She quickly pushed the clothes aside and there it was. A thick, beat-up, leather-bound notebook. The one that Astrid was always scrawling in. The one Ella had seen so many times — in classes, when they were at the lake, on a long car ride — the one that seemed to steal their friend sometimes. The one that took her to another world, took her inside her Astrid head, shut them out.

  Ella took the notebook out of the drawer with shaking hands. A part of her almost hated it. Maybe if Astrid hadn’t been so devoted to it, to this thing, this inanimate, falling-apart thing, then maybe she would have told them something. Maybe they would have been able to actually help her. Maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess.

  Maybe Ella wouldn’t be sneaking in rooms, weighing the importance of skeleton keys. Maybe she’d be spending one last high-school summer with her best friend. Maybe she wouldn’t be left chasing after a ghost.

  Ella’s heart raced as she stared at the book.

  “You okay in there?” she heard Jake through the door, and she jumped, dropping the journal on the floor.

  “Fine,” she said, and without hesitating, she slid the drawer shut, picked the journal up, and tucked it safely in her purse.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Sydney woke up missing Carter.

  She didn’t expect it — it surprised her, really. It’s just that the morning before had been so nice. She liked waking up with his arm still snugly tucked around her. Slowly dragging herself out of bed and looking at him as if they had a secret. Their awkward high-five goodbye because what else could she really do? Softly opening the window and watching his lanky body climb down the tree.

  She liked the way a day later her bed still smelled a little bit like boy.

  Sydney reached her arms above her and stretched her legs across the bed. There was so much space without him in it.

  She knew that she didn’t like him like she did Max — her heart didn’t quicken when she looked at his face — he wasn’t nearly as beautiful — he wasn’t nearly as smooth. Instead, she liked his gangliness, his silliness, the way he could hold her and make it all better, even if just for a second. She liked the fact that he was Carter.

  Sydney rolled over and grabbed her phone off the nightstand. It was noon already. She almost wanted to send him a message. They hadn’t spoken since he’d left yesterday morning, and they’d see each other again at practice tonight — she wanted to make sure they were still on cool, friendly terms. No matter what may or may not be going on, she wasn’t ready to process it. Not yet. But what would she say?

  Thanks for staying over — you were decidedly not creepy about it.

  I don’t think I like you, but I don’t think I don’t like you either. What do you think?

  I might have been just leading you on to get back at Max — let’s not take it too seriously.

  Promise me this won’t ruin our friendship.

  Maybe we should just pretend we didn’t cuddle?

  Do you need any more socks?

  But it didn’t matter, because her phone rang then. It was Ella.

  She held the phone in her hand, deciding whether to answer. They hadn’t talked since she’d stormed out. She didn’t know what to say, how to say it. Part of her felt that Ella wouldn’t even listen to a word she had to say — and certainly not to reason. But the other part of her — the I want to be a good friend part — knew that Ella needed her now more than ever.

  She clicked answer. “Hey.”

  “I’m glad you answered.” Relief flooded her voice.

  “Is everything okay?” Sydney asked. “I meant to call yesterday …” her voice trailed off.

  “It’s okay,” Ella said quickly, almost dismissively. “I have something to show you. Can I come over?”

  “Uhh, sure,” Sydney said reluctantly. She was afraid to deny Ella anything right now. Anything that could help her even a little bit. “Just give me like an hour to shower and stuff. I’m still in bed.”

  “I’m outside your house,” Ella said.

  “What?”

  “I came straight here. I need to come up.”

  “You said everything was alright.”

  “It is,” Ella said. “I just have something to show you. Trust me, I’ve seen you without makeup before.”

  Sydney couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay,” she said. “Come on.”

  Almost instantly, she heard the doorbell ring and her mom’s footsteps. Ella wasn’t kidding when she’d said she was right here. She was up the stairs and in Sydney’s room in seconds.

  “Geez,” Sydney said, pushing back the covers and hopping out of bed. “You don’t waste any time.” She pulled on a pair of pants while Ella caught her breath. “Okay, okay,” she said, flopping back down on the bed. “What is it?”

  Ella threw her bag down and pulled out a leather-bound book. It looked familiar. It looked like …

  Ella tossed it over.

  “Whoa,” Sydney said. Her hands began to shake as she realized what it was. “Is this — ”

  “It’s Astrid’s,” Ella said, her voice shaking as much as Sydney’s hands.

  Instinctively, Sydney threw it back on the bed. It was her friend’s. It was probably one of the last things that she had laid her hands on. It was her personal property, her deepest darkest secrets. It was everything Sydney hadn’t asked her, everything she’d been dying to tell. Everything she’d died without telling. Sydney f
elt scared and dirty and curious all at once.

  “How did you get this?” she asked.

  Ella paused — it looked like she was weighing whether to tell her the truth or not. “I took it from her room,” she said finally.

  Sydney shook her head. “How did you even — ”

  “I needed to read it,” Ella said, and in that moment she seemed so genuine, so real, that Sydney almost believed that it was that simple. But then she thought of the cabin and those horrible flowers and every theory and story and she knew that this was just another step down a dangerous path.

  “But how?” Sydney asked.

  “Jake let me in,” Ella said, calmly. “I found it, and I just came here.”

  “I should have known,” Sydney said, and she felt sick all of a sudden. Somewhere along the line, things had gotten way out of hand. Playing around the cabin was one thing, but sneaking into a dead friend’s house was another. “El, this is going too far.”

  Ella sighed. “Since when are you the voice of reason?”

  “Since you seemed to have lost yours,” Sydney said.

  “That’s not fair,” Ella snapped. “You’ve never cared about the rules.”

  Sydney shook her head. “I’m not breaking into people’s houses, Ella.”

  “I didn’t break in. Jake let me.”

  “Okay,” she said. “And he let you just take her journal?”

  Ella rolled her eyes, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course he didn’t. I stuffed it in my bag and came straight here.”

  Sydney looked down at the journal, scooting back on the bed, further away from it. “Ella,” she said. “Why did you bring this to me?”

  Ella flopped back on the bed, and her eyes crinkled up and Sydney thought that she might cry. But then she took three deep breaths and she closed her eyes and she spoke. Her voice was soft. “I couldn’t read it,” she said. “I thought about it, but I couldn’t. Not alone.”

  Sydney stared back down at the journal, thinking of everything it could hold. “Ella,” she said. “I don’t think I can, either.”

  Ella sat up straight then, her eyes wide again. “Please,” Ella said. “I just can’t. Please.”