Live to Tell

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Live to Tell Page 11

by Lisa Harrington


  That’s when it jumped out at me. After an entire screen of “Gwen,” the next name that appeared was “Jules.” It looked so out of place. There was a red arrow next to her name — an outgoing call. I shifted my eyes to the date and time and stared at those numbers, the way they were lined up — 10/30 12:12 a.m. Something nagged at me …

  “Prepare to be amazed!” Cal’s voice boomed from the hall.

  I gasped, jammed the phone back in his pocket and tossed the jacket onto my bed. Hoping to look busy, I flicked though a textbook as he came in and placed a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of me. “Had a great talk with your mom. Explained the whole frothing thing to her.”

  I looked at him. You’ve got to be kidding me.

  He stood back and waited. “Well? Aren’t you going to taste it?”

  “Of course I am.” I hoped my voice didn’t sound as high to him as it did to me. I blew on the mug and took a sip. “Yummy.”

  That seemed to please him.

  As I drank my hot chocolate, from beneath my lashes I watched him move around the room. It was like he couldn’t stay still, not for long anyway. He flipped through my CD collection, studied my bulletin board, touched everything on my desk. He reminded me of a caged animal at the zoo.

  “All gone,” I announced loudly and set my mug down.

  He smiled and reached for his jacket. “My work here is done then. I’m off to pick up Mom.”

  I tried to look crestfallen.

  “Listen,” he said, “Maybe I could come by tonight. We could watch a movie or something.”

  “Uh …”

  “You know, spend a little time together … alone … in the dark.” Some milky foam caught in my throat and I coughed. “I can’t tonight … um … plans.” Please don’t ask what they are, please don’t ask.

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “T-tomorrow …?” I stuttered. I needed a “go-to” list of excuses. “Okay.”

  After he left, I collapsed my whole upper body across my desk. That was brutal. My cheek was resting on some loose leaf — the English assignment I’d been working on before the accident and still hadn’t finished. One of my eyeballs was right against the due date written in the top corner: October 31. I lifted my head slightly. I remembered everyone whining about the paper being due the Monday after Tori’s party on Saturday night. I lifted my head up some more. That call on Cal’s phone, the one to Julia, was October 30. That would make it Sunday. The 12:12 a.m. would make it the Sunday morning of the accident.

  The police said the accident happened right around midnight … I sat absolutely still and let it all sink in. I knew Diane said the 911 call came in at 12:28. If Cal was unconscious until then, how could he be calling Julia at 12:12?

  Chapter 20

  Kasey sat on my bed, tapping her fingers against her lips. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?” she asked. “You have to get your hands on his phone again.”

  With my pen, I stabbed another hole in what was left of Cal’s article picture. There were so many now they were starting join together, and whole parts of his face were missing.

  I shook my head. “Uh-uh, Kasey. No way.” All I wanted was for everyone to go away and leave me alone. I was seriously the stupidest person alive.

  Her eyes bugged out. “Libby! You can’t just let him off ! This guy — this lying scumbag, who was supposedly passed out, was calling his sister, when you could have been right beside him dying. Why the hell wasn’t he calling 911?”

  Could that really be the way it happened? I drew devil horns on the top of what was left of Cal’s head.

  Kasey got up and started pacing around the room. “We’re pretty sure he lied about what you guys did after the party. And now we’re pretty sure he’s lying about being unconscious. So, what was he was doing while you were bleeding to death? Don’t you want to know? Don’t you want to see him pay?” When I didn’t respond, she sucked in her cheeks and stared me down. “Well, don’t you?”

  I lowered my eyes, almost ashamed of myself. What happened to the promise I made to do everything I could to get my memory back? Then I’d have all the answers. If only there was a way I could absorb some of Kasey’s determination and spirit … I took a deep breath, lifted my head, and stuck my chin out. “What’s our next move?”

  She flashed me a satisfied smile. “He’s coming over tonight, right?”

  “Yeah. I couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough.”

  “No. This is good. Easier to get another look at his phone. First, you have to make sure you’re absolutely right about what you saw, and second, you have to rule out that it wasn’t a legit call.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well …” She scrunched up her nose. “I suppose he could have been unconscious, and it was a pocket call, like the way he was lying on his phone or something.”

  “How are we going to know that?”

  “Um. I dunno. Maybe by the length of the call? You didn’t happen to notice, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Say the call lasted for a long time — ten, fifteen minutes — then that might be what happened. You know, kind of like it was off the hook? But no matter what, the next call on his phone should be to 911, at …?”

  “12:28,” I finished.

  She folded her arms. “Can you pull this off ?”

  I didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah. I’m on it.”

  IN PREPARATION OF CAL’S visit, I created a “to do” list in my head. I called Emma into my room and had a little talk. Once that was taken care of, I mentally checked it off and moved on to the next item.

  I went to the medicine shelf in the kitchen cupboard above the sink. I found the green box of sinus capsules and stuck them at the very back behind a package of Band-Aids. Almost done, only one more thing …

  Swinging open the freezer door, I took out the ice cube trays, gave them a twist, dumped the ice into the sink, and returned the trays to the freezer, empty. There was a small pile of loose cubes in a plastic bowl. I held it under the tap, drizzled in some water then placed it back in the freezer. The whole procedure took a good ten minutes and what felt like a million trips back and forth between the sink and fridge. I couldn’t wait to lose these crutches.

  “What are you doing?” Mom asked, coming into the kitchen.

  “Making sure we have something to drink,” I answered, trying not to sound guilty.

  “Why?”

  “Cal’s coming over tonight, if that’s okay.”

  “Uh … I guess.” She didn’t look too thrilled. “Isn’t it a school night for him or something?”

  “Mom. He’s almost nineteen.”

  “Right,” she sighed.

  “We’ll keep it down and stay out of the way,” I promised. “He’s not staying late though,” she said in a firm voice, jamming some dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

  No kidding. About to go back to my room, I paused. “Mrs. Edwards didn’t call today, did she?”

  “No.”

  “So … no word from the hospital?”

  Mom didn’t look up from the dishwasher. “No,” she said quietly. “No word.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and went back to my room to wait for my movie night with Cal. I was anxious for him to arrive. The sooner he got here, the sooner he’d be leaving.

  HE SHOWED UP WITH a stack of DVDs and set them on my desk. “I stopped at the video store. Wasn’t sure what you were into, but I think I did okay.”

  Just the sight of him, the sound of his voice. I had to swallow a couple times to push down a sudden wave of sickness.

  I fanned out his picks. “I kind of like horror.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  They were all sappy love stories — Titanic (Kasey would be thrilled. It was her favourite), The Lake House, A Walk to Remember. I raised my eyebrows. “Really? The Notebook?”

  He slipped his arms around my waist and kissed me below my ear. “Let’s just say, I put the ‘man’ in romance
.”

  My whole body instantly went rigid and I wondered if he felt it.

  “We can watch The Titanic,” he whispered. “I think there are some, you know, intense scenes.”

  I gritted my teeth. “The movie is called Titanic. Not ‘The’ Titanic.”

  Emma’s head peeked around the corner of the door, waiting to be noticed. She was right on time.

  “Hey Em,” I said, pulling myself away. “You can come in. This is Cal.”

  “I saw your picture in Daddy’s magazine!” she exclaimed.

  I shot her a look. Huh? That wasn’t part of the script.

  “Hey,” he grinned, patting Emma on the head.

  “And you really do — you look exactly like Zac Efron.” She gazed up at him all starry-eyed. “Libby, don’t you think?”

  “Um …” I tilted my head. Maybe, I guess. Though I could hardly be considered objective. At this moment Cal looked more like Freddy Krueger to me.

  Cal frowned. “Who?”

  Emma’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “High School Musical, silly. Me and Libby love him.” She turned to me. “You’re so lucky the boy who saved you looks like Zac. It’s just like a movie. That’s why I kept it for you.”

  Kept what? What’s she going on about? “So … whatcha got there?” I asked, pointing to her arms clasped behind her back.

  Up her hands went above her head. “Ta-dah!” She was clutching the High School Musical DVD. “I knew you guys wanted to watch a movie, so I thought we could watch this one together!”

  “Sorry about this,” I said to Cal, then to Emma, “Em, that’s really sweet. But Cal isn’t interested in that kind of movie.”

  Emma stuck out her lip in a pout and batted her long eyelashes. “I know you’d love it, Cal. And don’t you want to see the boy who looks like you?”

  “Don’t you have, uh … school tomorrow?” he asked.

  “In-service,” she replied quickly.

  I shrugged and gave Cal a look that said, “What do you want me to do?”

  Emma stood there, rocking back and forth on her heels, waiting for an answer.

  Cal looked like he was trying to pass a kidney stone. I knew the signs, Dad had one last fall.

  “Sure. Why not?” he finally said.

  “Yay! Come on, Cal.” She grabbed his hand and began dragging him out of the room.

  As I reached for my crutches, Emma turned around, ducked her head under Cal’s arm, and gave me a quick wink that used every muscle in her face.

  I winked back and gave her a double thumbs-up.

  “PRESS PLAY, LIBBY, AND I’ll get the lights!” Emma said, once we were all settled downstairs. “ We have to make it like a real theatre. Everyone, please turn off their cellphones! ” she shouted in a deep voice.

  “Mine’s upstairs,” I told her. “Cal, you’d better play along.”

  “Oh. Right. Gotcha.” He pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and turned it off.

  My eyes widened as I watched him place it on the side table.

  Perfect. This is going to be easier than I thought.

  As soon as the lights were off, I felt Cal shimmy down the couch, felt his arm encircle my shoulders.

  “Make room for me!” Emma wiggled her butt into the nonexistent space between me and Cal.

  Cal sighed and removed his arm. I had to chomp down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling.

  Emma provided commentary through the entire movie. Who was seeing who in real life, who auditioned for what part but they picked so-and-so instead, who had a role created especially for them. How does an eight-year-old know all this? How does she remember?

  I glanced over at Cal. He nodded off a couple times, but still managed to throw in the “reallys?” and “no ways” in all the right places.

  When the movie ended, Emma flicked on the lights. “Didn’t you just love it, Cal? Don’t you think Zac could be your twin?”

  He yawned and stretched. “Yeah. Awesome.”

  Emma ejected the dvd and put it in its case. “Guess I have to go to bed now,” she said wistfully.

  I didn’t want her to go but I knew it was way past her bedtime. It was strange that Mom hadn’t called down for her a long time ago. I barely got out “Goodnight” before Cal had the lights off again and his thigh mashed against mine. “Alone at last,” he whispered.

  There wasn’t too much I could do without making him suspicious, so I let him … play with my hair … kiss my neck … He was working his way over to my mouth when I snapped. “Damn!” It came out with a bit more intensity than I’d intended.

  He sat back. “What?”

  “Sinus headache, only a teeny one,” I assured him. “I don’t want it to wreck our night though. Could you grab me some cold pills?”

  “Sure. You want me to run to the store?”

  Never thought of that. But he might take his phone. “That’s okay, there’s stuff in the kitchen. Except …” I looked down at my cast. “It’s a bit of a production, you know, up and down the stairs.”

  “No problemo. Tell me what you need.”

  “All the medicine’s on the top shelf above the sink. I need the sinus stuff. It’s in a green box.”

  He nodded and started up the stairs.

  “Oh, and I have this thing where it’s really hard for me to swallow pills,” I told him. “I have to have water with lots of ice to numb my throat.”

  “Okay …” he said slowly. “Anything else?”

  “Um, well I guess you should try and be quiet. Emma might be asleep by now.”

  “I’ll be totally ninja.”

  As soon as his feet disappeared, I reached for his phone. Flipping it open, I went to the menu and recent calls. I scrolled through, trying to get back to where I’d stopped the other day. Bingo. Jules

  10/30 12:12 a.m.

  “I can’t find them!” he called down the stairs in a loud whisper.

  My heart jumped to my throat. “They’re there!” I whisper-yelled back. “Keep looking!”

  I’d pressed some button and lost my spot. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I heard the water running in the kitchen sink upstairs. I searched for the call again but my fingers were slippery and I kept messing up. I finally found it. “Here we go,” I said to myself. “How long was it?” The screen read 00:01:32. One minute, thirty-two seconds. That doesn’t seem like a pocket call … and 911 should be the ne— what?

  I couldn’t quite understand what I was seeing.

  A banging noise startled me, like someone was taking a pickaxe to the kitchen counter, and I almost dropped the phone. I froze and held my breath. Listened. Waited. Nothing happened. My eyes settled back on the screen. It displayed an incoming call from Julia at 12:16 that lasted three minutes and seventeen seconds. But that wasn’t all. Cal called her again at 12:27. It was short and sweet, only five seconds.

  The next call was to 911. At 12:28.

  He called her. She called him back. Then he called her again. All before he called 911.

  Snapping his phone shut, I sat there holding it in my lap, not sure what to do, and for the moment not really caring anymore if he caught me — lying prick.

  Which is exactly what happened. “That my phone you got?”

  I fought to keep my voice even. “Yeah. Mine’s ancient. Just seeing what kind you had.”

  He seemed totally unaffected. “Sure.” He shrugged, and held out a glass of water and the box of cold medication. “Sorry I took so long. The sinus stuff was jammed in the back under a bunch of other stuff. And you might want to tell your dad to get the freezer

  checked. All your ice cubes were melted into one giant chunk, but I did the best I could.”

  “I’ll tell him.” I took the glass and popped a couple pills out of the blister pack.

  He returned to his earlier position, glued to me on the couch. “There’s not much point putting a movie in now, we can flick around,” he said, reaching for the remote. “I really wasn’t planning on spend
ing a lot of time watching a movie anyway …”

  Dream on, asshole. I made a choking sound and bent forward slightly, my hand on my stomach. “I don’t feel so great,” I said.

  “Give the medicine a chance to kick in.”

  “No. You don’t get it. I don’t think it’s a cold-cold, I think it’s a flu-cold.”

  “Babe, just relax.”

  There was a flash behind my eyes, a tightening sensation across the top of my head. “What did you say?”

  “What do you mean? Just relax?”

  Babe, just relax. I’m not going to hurt you. I heard the words clear as day. Felt the armrest of the car digging into my back. The roughness of his hand on my leg as it inched its way up under my skirt. Then blackness, nothing else.

  I felt him watching me. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Seconds passed and when I didn’t answer, it was like something clicked for him. A look of panic flickered across his face. “Did you … uh … remember something?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “It’s my stomach.” I hung over my knees, hiding my face, worried my expression would give me away.

  He touched my shoulder. “Lib?”

  I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to jerk away, but if he didn’t get his hands off me … I started making gagging sounds, each louder than the last.

  “Whoa! Are you going to be sick?!” He jumped up as if I was coated in a toxic chemical.

  “Maybe,” I said weakly.

  He stood there looking uncomfortable, his eyes darting towards the stairs. “Um … Do you want me to get your mom?”

  “No. You go,” I whispered, “before you catch it.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, babe.” He couldn’t get out fast enough. I heard the door close and I shut my eyes. You’re goin’ down, Cal. I don’t know how yet, but you’re goin’ down.

  Chapter 21

 

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