“Evan. You’re freaking me out. Where are you going?”
“I promise to tell you everything, but in person, not on the phone.”
“Okay.” I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. I have no idea how to get out or the consequences I’ll face when I come back.
“Thank you.”
“I can’t drive. You’ll have to come get me.”
“Okay, but not in front of your house. I’ll meet you at … the park. Go to the park and I’ll pick you up there in case the police are watching your house.”
I haven’t considered that. “Okay, I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”
“Be sure to take your cell phone in case we need to change plans. Bye.”
As I ponder how to get out the front door, it occurs to me I can’t. The bedroom window is my only option. I lock my bedroom door and leave the music playing to cover any noise. I put on an extra pair of socks, along with a fleece jacket over my long-sleeved t-shirt. After shoving my arms through the sleeves of my coat, I grab my knit scarf and hat.
The window is stiff and it takes two good jerks before I have the opening wide enough to crawl through. I’m grateful we live in a ranch style house, with a room on the first and only floor. The jump to the ground is short and I avoid getting scratched up from the bushes.
I tug the window shut and weigh my options. My room faces the back of the house. If the police are watching, they will most likely be observing the front. If I run to the neighbor’s yard behind us, I can sneak to the street in front their house and walk to the park. Hopefully, my hat and bulky coat will conceal my identity.
I’m ready to run when my conscience stops me.
Think long and hard before you do this.
I lean against the house and review my decision. Evan’s wanted by the police, but I can’t believe he’s done anything bad. It has to be a misunderstanding. More importantly, Evan has answers to questions that no one can help me with. Can I really let him go without finding out what he knows?
In the end, it’s his leaving that seals my decision. I have no idea where he’s going, but what if he never comes back? The thought of never seeing him again opens an oozing wound in my heart. I have to see him before he leaves, even if it’s only to say goodbye.
I run straight for the neighbor’s house, thankful there’s not a fence separating our properties. Their dog is tied up to a tree and barks her outrage.
I bend down and rub her head. “Shh… Weiner. It’s me.”
She stops barking and sits, her tongue hanging out as she pants.
“I have to go. Be a good girl and don’t bark. Okay?”
The dog nuzzles my hand and I give her head one last rub before bolting for the side of the house. Weiner whines at the loss of attention, but to my relief, doesn’t bark. I move to the front of the house, scanning the street for police. When I think it’s safe, I walk to the sidewalk and take the long way to the park. The wind is cold and I’m glad for my extra layers.
I live in a safe neighborhood but walking in the dark and hiding from police gives me the spooks. Every noise or rustle of leaves makes me jump.
Calm down, Julia. Your jumpiness is going to give you away.
The park lies ahead, dark and foreboding. The empty swings sway in the breeze, the metal chains groaning in protest. Dried leaves sweep across the park, a sudden gust swirling them in a mini cyclone before they blow out of sight. The park’s deserted, no one in sight. When I reach the edge, I’m unsure where to go since I see no sign of Evan. I move to the massive play set and sit on one of the metal steps to the slide.
My legs grow numb with the cold as I wait for what seems an eternity. I pull out my cell phone. Sure enough, ten minutes has come and gone. Evan called twenty minutes earlier. I consider calling him but decide to wait, certain he has a good reason for not showing up yet.
A few minutes later, headlights come into view, heading toward me. I shrink into the play set, hoping to stay hidden from view. Evan’s car pulls up to the curb and idles, white smoke trailing out the tailpipe.
I run to his car and open the passenger door.
“Get in.” His face is taut and his shoulders rigid. His white knuckles grip the wheel.
Evan pulls away from the curb before I have the door shut. “Evan, what’s going on?”
“I have to leave. Tonight.”
“I know, you told me that already. Why?”
He turns to me, his eyes red and teary. “Are you hungry?”
“What?”
“I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch, but I’m afraid to get food anywhere, in case they find me. If I drop you off at a restaurant, will you go in and get me something to eat?”
“Of course, but you still haven’t told me what’s going on.”
“I know, and I will. I promise. Just do this first. Please.”
He sounds so scared and sad my heart tightens with fear. I put my hand on his arm. “I’ll do whatever I can. Just tell me what to do.”
He gives me a weak smile and reaches his hand over to cover mine. His warmth permeates my cold fingers. “I don’t know if I can leave you again,” he says, his voice cracking.
“Then don’t. Just tell me what’s going on and I’ll help you figure out what to do.”
He releases a short laugh and squeezes my hand. “You were always so good at figuring out what to do.”
I sit in silence and try to piece together what he means. I scour my memories of the last week, searching for a moment when I helped him figure something out.
He turns onto the main business road in our section of town, fast food restaurants and strip malls lining both sides. A baseball cap lies on the seat between us and he pulls it onto his head as he glances at the speedometer. The needle hovers at the thirty-five mph speed limit. He turns into a Chick-fil-A and drives to the back of the lot, backing up to park next to the dumpster.
“I’m sorry I can’t drop you off at the door. I need to stay out of sight.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. His hand shakes as his fingers fumble with the bills. He shoves the wallet at me. “I don’t know how much is in there. Just take it. Get something for you if you want.”
I slip it into my coat pocket.
“You’re going to come back, right?” Evan’s eyes are huge with fear and it scares me.
My fingertips slide down his cheek as I stare into his eyes. The brilliant blue is lost in the shadows of the parking lot. “Yeah, I’m coming back. I promise.”
His hand lifts to cover mine, his fingers curling under my palm. He looks like he’s about to burst into tears. “Okay, hurry.”
The restaurant is warm and the smell of chicken and fried potatoes makes my stomach growl, reminding me I didn’t eat much for dinner. I stand in line and pull Evan’s wallet out of my pocket. Two twenty dollar bills and a five, more than enough to get something for both us, even though I feel guilty spending his money on myself.
The line moves and I start to close the wallet when I notice something folded and tucked in the credit card section. It looks like currency but not United States money. Curiosity gets the better of me and I pull it out, unfolding the thin crinkly paper, which is stiffer and thinner than a United States bill. A twenty-five appears in the corner and President Kennedy’s face is plastered in the center.
What the heck is this?
I turn it over. The Statue of Liberty is printed on the back and more twenty-fives in the corners of the bill. United Regions of America emblazons the bottom.
Where did Evan get this? Maybe he’s wanted for counterfeiting, although Evan’s a sharp guy. I can’t see him printing money so obviously fake.
The line moves again and I find myself at the counter and unprepared to order. I order a meal for Evan and a sandwich for myself, almost paying with the fake bill in my hand. I stuff it back in the credit card spot and hand the cashier a twenty. Shoving the change into Evan’s wallet, I move to the side and wait for the food.
Th
e doors open and a gust of wind blows a chill through the restaurant. Sarah and Lindsey walk in with several other girls. I freeze in utter panic before realizing I’m bundled in my coat, hat and scarf. Tugging the cap over my forehead, I lift the scarf to cover more of my face.
“I can’t believe what happened to Evan,” Lindsey says in a gossipy tone.
I lower my head and focus my attention on them.
“I know,” Sarah says. “It explains so much though, especially why he would pay attention to her instead of me. The real Evan would never have anything to do with her.”
“I still can’t believe there’s someone walking around who looks exactly like him. It’s so creepy. Who is he?”
My head is fuzzy and I grip the counter to hold myself up. I keep my gaze down, hoping my eavesdropping isn’t obvious.
“Nobody knows,” Sarah says. “But the police’ll tell us when they find him.”
The cashier hands me the bag of food and in my stupor. I drop it on the counter. Sarah and Lindsey turn to me, but I manage to snatch the bag and run out the side door.
Evan’s car is still in the spot next to the dumpster, the front end facing me. I take slow steps toward him as I digest the overload of information.
Two Evans. How could that be?
The Evan I know, my Evan, sits in the front seat of the car, his face visible in the light of the overhead streetlamp. In the chaos swirling in my head, it makes perfect sense. Sarah said he disappeared and was different when he came back. The Evan sitting in the car, whose thumb now anxiously taps the steering wheel, is different than the one from two weeks ago. Even I can see it.
I stop in the front of the car.
The police are looking for Evan and that can’t be good. What’s happened to the other? I worry that this Evan is dangerous. My head swims with the impossibility of it all. This doesn’t happen in real life. Soap operas and Lifetime movies, but not real life. He watches me with wary eyes and I know I have to make a decision. Get in the car with him or run. Every reasonable thought within me screams run, but one says stay. It’s the one I listen to.
I open the door and get in, handing him the food and his drink. “We have to go.”
His eyes widen. “Why? What happened?”
I release a shaky breath. “Sarah and her idiots are inside and they know the police are looking for you. They may have spotted me so we need to go. Now.”
Setting the bag between us, he shifts the car into drive and turns out onto the side street, heading into a neighborhood. He takes off his hat and tosses it to the side, running his shaking hand through his hair.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” He grips the steering wheel, leaning toward it. “I don’t know. I’m not ready to go yet.”
“Go where?”
He turns and looks at me with a grim smile. “Home.”
I wait for him to tell me where home is, but he remains silent, driving through the neighborhood as he grabs his sandwich out of the bag.
He takes a bite and laughs. “I’m going to miss these when I get home.” Then he reaches for several waffle fries and takes a big bite.
“You don’t have Chick-fil-A where you live?” I’ve heard that some of the northern states don’t.
He laughs again. “No, we don’t have any fast food.” He pulls onto the road that goes past the school.
“How can you not have fast food? Everyone has fast food. Even China has fast food. Where the heck do you live?”
“You’d never believe me if I told you.”
This is a practical joke and it’s not funny. My frustration builds. “I don’t believe you. Everybody has fast food. This is stupid and you better tell me what’s going on right now. Sarah said there were two of you. What was she talking about? Who are you?”
“Evan.” He pauses as he stares into my eyes then faces out the windshield. “He’s Evan too.”
The blood rushes from my head. “I don’t understand. How can there be two of you? Are you like his long-lost twin brother or something?”
“No.” The school blurs past us on the left as Evan keeps driving.
“Where are we going?” My panic makes my voice squeak.
He keeps his eyes straight ahead. “We’re almost there.”
I raise my knuckles to my lips as I glance out the side window. My stomach rolls. I know where he’s headed.
He parks in the church parking lot. The tires crunch on the gravel as he pulls to the side of the building, hiding the car from the road. Stuffing the last of the sandwich into his mouth, he wipes his hands on his jeans and turns off the engine. “I know it’s cold outside, but can we walk? I’m pretty antsy and I need to move or I’ll go crazy.”
I nod. “Okay, but only if you give me some answers.”
Evan turns on a flashlight and takes my hand as we walk toward the cemetery.
“Wait.” I stop, tugging him back. “Are we going to Monica’s grave?”
“I have to show you something.” He swings the beam to the gate that surrounds the graves. The gate creaks as he pushes it open.
I should ask him who he is and where he’s from, but as I cling to his hand I’m suddenly terrified to find out. For the moment, he’s the boy who’s adored me for the last week, who gave me hope even if it was fleeting. And now I’m about to lose him.
I look over at him while we walk around the graves. “Some people think it’s creepy walking through a graveyard in the dark, horror movies and all. I think the horror is when they die.”
His hand tightens around mine. “Losing someone you love is harder. One minute they’re there, the next they’re gone. There were times I wished they would rise up from the dead.” The pain in his voice is palpable. “I would have given anything for that to happen.”
We stand in front of Monica’s grave as I wonder who he’s talking about. The owner of the pendant hanging from his neck? Evan shines the beam of light on Monica’s headstone. I drop to my knees and brush leaves away.
“Sometimes I can’t believe she’s gone. Sometimes I wish I’d died instead.”
He kneels beside me and sweeps a stray hair off my face, tucking it into my hat. “No, Julia. Don’t say that.”
“I’ve screwed up so many people, so many lives. If I’d died, they could have gone on and not got stuck in this mess I’ve created.”
He exhales, his breath filling the air with white steam. “This is so confusing.” Tears stream down his face.
“You lost someone you loved?” I stare up at him.
His hand lifts to my cheek. “Yes.”
“Who was she?” I whisper.
He closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me close. “You know what’s even harder?”
Dèjá vu rushes through me, but for once I can tie it to a real memory. It was Evan who found me in the cemetery last week. My throat burns from holding back my tears. “What?”
“Losing someone you love twice.” His voice cracks as he cradles my head to his chest. “I don’t know how to survive losing you again.”
I push back to look into his face. “What are you talking about? Today? I was hurt and I wanted punish you. I’m sorry. I just needed time. I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” My voice chokes on my tears.
“Do you mean that?”
Nodding, I bite my lip to hold back the sobs.
He kisses me, a wet and desperate mess. I cling to him, the damp ground seeping through my jeans. He pulls away and I realize it’s begun to rain.
“I love you so much, Julia. My life is nothing without you. I can’t leave you, but I can’t stay. I don’t know what to do.” Evan’s shoulders shake with his tears, his hands holding my arms in a viselike grip.
“Where are you going?”
Flashing red lights from the road catch my attention. Evan spins his head toward them and switches off the flashlight.
I start to scramble to my feet, but Evan pulls me back down. “What if I told you
Monica wasn’t dead?”
“What?”
His eyes are wild with fear and desperation. “What if I told you that you could see her? That I can take you to her.”
I try to pull out of his grasp. “You’re crazy! How can you say that? Of course, she’s dead!” I scream and whip my hand toward her headstone. “She’s there in the ground!”
He shakes his head frantically. “No, she’s not. I know where she is. I can take you to see her. I promise. Will you come with me?”
“Evan,” I sob. “This is crazy. She’s dead!”
Three police cars pull into the parking lot.
“No, Julia. I swear to God she’s alive. Just come with me. Please.”
I turn to the flashing lights. I can’t let them find Evan. I stand and tug on his arm. “You have to go!”
He grabs my hand as he rises. “Will you come?”
He’s ripping my heart from my chest. I can’t bear to lose him. What do I have to gain by staying? My father can’t stand me. My mother’s weary of my chaos. My sister hates me. I killed my best friend, who Evan said is actually alive. I have no one. No one but Evan.
His tear-soaked face waits for my answer. Tears over losing me. All I want is for someone to love me. Need me. I have it here, with him.
In the end, there is no question. I lift my chin. “Yes.”
Chapter Fifteen
Evan grabs my hand and we run. The mist has turned to rain and it seeps through my hat and into my hair.
Car doors slam behind us as Evan boosts me over the short fence in the back of the cemetery. He vaults over with little effort and grabs my hand again. We sprint toward the woods, crashing through the brush. I look over my shoulder, expecting the police to be directly behind us, but their flashlight beams are sweeping around the church. At least we have a head start.
Evan leads the way, pushing deeper into the woods. Several minutes in, I’m out of breath. My leg aches from the cold and the rain, and the continual pounding from running makes it worse.
He glances over his shoulder, past me. The anxious look on his face makes me turn around. Flashlight beams dance in the distance. They’re searching the woods.
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