Forget Me

by K. A. Harrington

  “Fine,” I muttered. Then I turned the corner into the kitchen and grabbed the cardboard container of vegetable lo mein, a fork, and a can of soda. I made sure to let them see me, arms awkwardly full, before I started up the staircase. When I reached the second floor, I placed the dinner on my desk, then backed out of my room and slammed the door. They’d think I was in there, shoving noodles into my pouty face.

  Instead, I crept back to the stairwell, knelt down on the floor behind the wall, and peeked my head around. This was usually a good spot to listen from because they wouldn’t see me unless they came to the bottom of the steps. It was something I hadn’t done since I was a little girl.

  Mom and Dad were still in the living room, speaking in hushed whispers, their voices rising only now and then.

  “I don’t know what to do, either!” Mom hissed. “But we can’t just . . .”

  Though I strained to hear, the rest was unintelligible.

  Dad, sounding completely hopeless, said, “We’ll talk about this later.”

  Later meaning after I was asleep. After there was no chance I would overhear them.

  Not tonight, folks, I thought. I can stay up as late as I need to.

  “What should we do with—” Mom started.

  “Burn it,” Dad hissed. I heard him stalk off. I pulled my head back until he passed, then listened again.

  But Mom didn’t follow. I took a risk and inched my butt down two steps. I peeked my head through the balusters.

  Mom stood alone, her shoulders drooping, as she stared at the floor, that mysterious paper still clutched in her hand. My heart cinched. I wanted to say, Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. As a family. Just let me in.

  I watched as she selected a hardcover from the bookcase, slipped the paper inside, and replaced the book. I memorized its position—middle row, third book. Then I snuck back to my room.

  Though I was barely hungry, I forced myself to eat some of the noodles, then plopped back on my bed. I just had to wait my parents out and then I’d see what the big secret was. But what to do in the meantime? Toni was probably busy with Reece. I had no desire to start my homework. I couldn’t concentrate on a novel. I turned on my TV. After a while my phone started chirping from my bag.

  I pulled it out. A text from Evan. My heart did a little flip.

  want to talk?

  I typed back: sure. call me.

  Almost immediately my phone lit up with his reply.

  im outside your house.

  I thought about inviting him in. It wasn’t too late. But the rational part of me immediately vetoed the idea. I could already picture the drama in my head. My father’s confused face. My mother’s high-pitched inquisition. Why does he look exactly like Flynn? Are they related? Where did you meet? What’s going on?

  No, thanks. My drama cup already runneth over.

  I wrote back: park at the end of the road. i’ll be there in 5.

  I shook my hair out, pulled on a hoodie, and headed downstairs. Mom was in the living room, paging through a magazine on the couch. I’d been hoping to take a quick peek at the mystery paper she’d hidden in the bookcase, but that would obviously have to wait.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, noticing me creep toward the front door.

  “Walking to Toni’s.” Before she could start in on how she didn’t want me around Toni’s parents, I added, “Her parents aren’t home. We’re just going to hang out with Cooper for a little bit.”

  I’d never blatantly lied to my parents before. By omission, of course: that was my family’s modus operandi. But I figured they were lying to me, so why not start?

  “Have fun.” Mom returned her attention to the magazine, and I walked out the door. She was probably happy to have me and my questions gone for the night.

  A quick shower had passed through, and the pavement was damp. My sneakers slapped against the sidewalk as I strode by my neighbors’ darkened houses. I glanced at their pulled shades and wondered what secrets they hid behind them. It was becoming apparent to me that every family had their own.

  Evan’s car was parked at the end of the street. The lights were off, and I could barely make out his shadow in the driver’s seat. I opened the passenger-side door and slid in. The interior light came on, casting an orange glow over his features. He hadn’t even taken his uniform off yet, just turned the hat backward. His right leg was stained with dirt from a slide or a stolen base.

  He squinted, but reached up to click the button and keep the light on. “How’s it going?” he asked, not looking at me.

  Weird. The car was parked. He didn’t need to have his eyes glued to the road. “It hasn’t been the greatest day in the world,” I answered.

  He unrolled the photocopied pages and spread them open on his lap. “After my game, I spent a lot of time poring over Flynn’s journal.”

  “And?” I prodded.

  He flipped through the pages. “I recognize some of the names. And I cross-referenced the dates. They seem to be important.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “The date the story broke about Stell. The date the company went down. The date my uncle died.” He ran a hand across his forehead. “I just don’t understand the point of the notes.”

  It seemed obvious to me. “Clearly, Flynn thought something was rotten in the land of Stell.”

  “And he was right. But that’s what I’m trying to say. What was his goal here? To bring down Stell? To ruin my family’s name? All that happened already, years ago.”

  My nerves prickled. Why did Evan jump to the conclusion that Flynn was out to destroy something? “Just because he was researching Stell, that doesn’t mean he had bad intentions. What about the fact that he looked just like you? That can’t be a coincidence.”

  He ran his finger up and down the edge of the pages. “Yeah, I’ve thought a lot about that, too. Maybe he was a distant cousin I didn’t know about. Maybe he thought he could come here and try to, I don’t know, squeeze some money from us or something?”

  “Or maybe he just wanted to understand what happened,” I chimed in.

  He looked up at me, surprised. “People don’t go through this amount of effort out of curiosity. He wanted something. I just don’t know why he was digging through the past.” He paused. “Maybe he was working on a book, a tell-all?”

  “He was a teenager, Evan.” The words came out snappier than I’d intended.

  “I don’t know. I’m just throwing ideas out there,” he said, his voice tight as a fist. “Do you have any better ones?”

  That your parents are hiding something, I thought. Just like mine. But I pressed my lips together before the words could escape. Evan wasn’t himself. He seemed frustrated. Tension had settled into his neck and shoulders, and a worry line formed between his brows.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  His eyes found mine, and he let out a long breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “What is it?”

  He heaved a sigh. “It took a long time for me to put this Stell stuff behind me. You know how many kids at school blamed me for their problems? Because their parents lost their jobs and stuff. It’s only now, five years later, that people seem to be starting to forget about it. And here I am reading all this. It just brings back memories.”

  He gave me a weary smile, but it felt like a punch to the stomach. I’d been so selfish. I was only thinking about me. My driving need to figure out the mystery that was Flynn. I had never stopped for a moment to think about how hard this might be for Evan.

  “You don’t have to be involved in this—” I started.

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “I’m in this, whether I like it or not. Your boyfriend looked just like me. He sent me a picture of you. He kept a notebook about my family.”

  “About your family’s co
mpany,” I corrected.

  “Same thing. We’re always going to be linked.”

  I paused, not knowing how to word a possibly sensitive question. “Did your dad know? About the cover-up?”

  “He swears he didn’t, and there’s no evidence that he did. He says Uncle Doyle never told him. Those studies never came across his desk. He just dealt with the finances.”

  I sensed a but . . . “But you don’t believe him?”

  “I don’t know what to believe. I just . . . I know when my dad is keeping a secret, and he’s been keeping a big one for a while. He gets shifty sometimes.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “He has days, weeks even, when he’s a nervous wreck. But he denies it. Then it passes and he’s regular old Dad for a few months, but it always happens again.”

  I thought about Toni’s family and how the layoff had affected them. And how even my own parents had had their shifty moments lately. “Maybe it’s anxiety or depression,” I said. “Losing his company, losing his brother.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my mom thinks.”

  Another thought whispered from the back of my mind, latching on to the memory of Mr. Murphy at the falls, staring at the water. His brother had destroyed their company. He must’ve been pretty angry about that. Angry enough to kill?

  Evan sighed. “I wanted this to be over, you know? For our family to move on. But it seems like it will never be over.”

  His tone was so bleak. I hated that I’d dragged him into this and dredged up old pain. Almost without thinking, I reached out and touched his shoulder. Not caring if I was sending him the wrong message.

  His eyes closed, and I took the opportunity to unabashedly stare at him, the lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips. If he looked at me now, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from kissing him.

  He opened his eyes, but stared straight ahead.

  I grudgingly pulled my hand back to my lap.

  “Sorry I’m such bad company tonight,” he said softly. “I want to help you with this. We will get to the bottom of it. I just . . . It’s a little overwhelming right now.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t want to leave the warmth of his car. I didn’t want to leave him. But he needed me to. He needed to get home, to think, to sleep.

  “I’ll be in a better mood the next time. I promise.” He gave me a weak smile.

  “Talk to you later,” I said, and slipped into the night.

  I trekked back down the road. Evan didn’t pull away until he saw me safely reach the walk in front of my house. I watched his taillights turn the corner and vanish.

  I used my key in the front door and closed it quietly behind me. The living room was empty. My heart sped up. If my parents were asleep, now was the time. But my hope came crashing down with the clink of silverware in the kitchen.

  I pulled my sneakers off and padded into the room. Dad was seated at the table, hunched over a bowl.

  He looked up and tried to give me a smile. “Ice cream?”

  I leaned my shoulder against the wall. “No, thanks.”

  This was what my dad did after arguments. He tried to smooth things over by buying me ice cream or a new book by my favorite author, or by offering me the remote and letting me pick what show we’d watch. Little things. Sweet things. But things that ignored the problem. And I felt like, if I took his peace offering, it was a tacit acceptance that the issue was handled.

  “I’m not hungry,” I said, and headed into the living room.

  I settled onto the couch, my legs tucked underneath me, and pretended to be absorbed in the magazine my mom had left behind. But Dad didn’t seem to notice how little I truly cared about it as he stopped at the bottom of the staircase.

  “Good night,” he said.

  “Good night,” I echoed.

  “Don’t stay up too late.”

  “I won’t.”

  I listened closely as his footfalls echoed up the staircase. The second floor creaked under his weight. The door to their bedroom clicked shut.

  I quietly approached the bookcase. My fingers trailed along the spines and stopped at the book I’d seen my mother with. I eased it off the shelf and flipped through until I found the mystery paper. Still there.

  I slipped it out of the book. I didn’t know what I was expecting. Something bad, obviously. But ripples of anxiety shuddered through me as I wondered just how bad it would be. An overdue statement? A foreclosure warning? I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. Part of me wanted to put the paper back and pretend it didn’t exist. But that was the old Morgan. No more keeping my head in the sand.

  I unfolded the paper and saw that it was actually a note. Not a bill. Not a formal letter. It was handwritten, with big, menacing block letters. Like Flynn’s warning to Evan. But this wasn’t Flynn’s handwriting. I knew that well enough now. The statement was simple and to the point.

  EVERYONE WILL KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

  What the hell? I hadn’t been expecting anything like this. Was this for my parents?

  What had they done?

  CHAPTER 21

  Sunday morning, I woke to the warmth of the sun on my face. I’d forgotten to pull the curtains before I’d collapsed into bed. I lay there for a while, listening to the birds outside, and thinking about the time, a few years ago, when we had a leaky pipe in the kitchen.

  My dad had been on his hands and knees on the floor, head under the sink. I sat beside him, passing a tool now and then and feeling impatient because we were supposed to go out. I was amazed by how much effort he was putting in—using a wrench, pliers, tape, sealant. “That’s good enough,” I said. “Can’t we just go?”

  And Dad replied, “Not yet. If there’s one loose seal, even the tiniest crack, the water will find it. Water always finds a way out.”

  Watching the patterns of light dance on my bedroom wall now, I realized that secrets were like water. They slipped around, hidden, searching for that one small crack.

  And they always found a way out.

  Flynn took his lies to the grave, but left behind his journal. My parents refused to admit there was a problem, but the note I found proved it. And Evan’s family?

  Sometimes secrets revealed themselves, but other times you had to give them a little push.

  I slid out of bed, showered, and got ready. My parents were out. I hated this rift forming between us. Whatever they were hiding, I was sure they thought they were protecting me. But I didn’t want to be protected. I wanted the truth. However bitter it would taste going down, it had to be better than these lies I’d been spoon-fed.

  I grabbed my car keys and went outside. It was the first warm day of spring. Mom’s tulips had started to open. I kept the car window down as I drove past neighbors working outside, mowing lawns, washing cars. I parked in Toni’s driveway.

  Toni had two laughs. Her real laugh, the one I heard most often. And her boyfriend laugh, the one she reserved for guys who told her a joke and she wanted to make them feel good. That laugh was so loud, you didn’t so much hear it as feel assaulted by it. And that’s how I knew that she was out on the back deck and she wasn’t alone.

  I strode around the side of the house. Toni and Reece were lounging in chairs on the sun-bleached deck, sipping lemonade.

  She brightened when she saw me. “Morgan! Come pull up a chair. It’s beautiful out.”

  “There’s nice scenery all right,” Reece said, ogling Toni in her tank top.

  Toni gave him a playful smack on the arm. “Go in and get her a glass of lemonade.”

  Reece jumped up and opened the sliding glass door. I waited for him to close it before I turned to Toni. “I came to ask you to do something with me.”

  “Sure!” she said, enthusiasm shooting out of her pores. “What do you want to do?”

  I smiled slowly. “Break into Evan’s house.”

 
She paused, the glass halfway to her mouth. “Did your brain dribble out of your ears overnight?”

  “His parents are hiding something. I know it. And I don’t know if Evan’s willing to do what it takes to find the truth. So I need to find it myself.”

  Toni put the glass down on a side table. “Humoring you for a moment. How would we even do this?”

  “Evan has another game today, at noon. We stake out his house and see if his parents go to watch him play. His little sister’s away at boarding school. The house would be empty.”

  Toni shook her head. “With a house like that, they definitely have an alarm system.”

  I grinned. “I know a way in.”

  She rubbed her chin. “Okay, I’m intrigued,” she admitted.

  “Will you do it?” I eyeballed Reece through the window. He was getting ice from the freezer. I had to get Toni to agree before he came out and acted like the voice of reason.

  Toni let out an unsure sigh. “I don’t know.”

  “Just so you know, I’m doing it with or without you. And I was kind of hoping you would come since we haven’t spent much time together lately.”

  Toni winced. That one got her. She knew she’d been blowing me off for Reece, and I was betting that she felt guilty about it. It was a low blow, but desperate times, desperate measures.

  She sat up in her chair. “I have conditions. One: we don’t involve Reece. I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

  “Adorable.”

  “Two,” she continued. “If we don’t physically see everyone leaving the premises, we abort the mission, and you never bring this up again.”

  I chewed on my lip. “All or nothing, huh?”

  She crossed her arms forcefully. “Yep.”

  “Deal.” I could always go back by myself some other time.

  The sliding glass door opened, and Reece came out with my lemonade. The ice cubes clinked against the glass as I took a long, satisfying sip.

  With one last glance at me, Toni said to Reece, “We’re going to head out around eleven thirty for some girl time.” She hesitated a beat. “Shopping.”