“Ah, the origin story of the apple. I thought Natalie was going to have an aneurism when you ate that off the floor.”
Jaycee kept talking like he hadn’t said anything—like she was both anxious and relieved to tell someone what had happened. “We walked the whole bike path around campus and saw how quiet Court Street gets after the bars close and everyone stumbles home.” She squinted like she was trying to remember even smaller details. “Mik came in and out of focus under the streetlamps, and I talked forever. I told him about my senior year nerves. About my parents and missing Jake. He listened until past dawn.”
Jaycee looked up at Zach, a strange yearning on her face that made her seem a heck of a lot younger than eighteen.
“Yep. Mik likes you. No guy spends a whole night listening to a girl talk unless he likes her. It’s one of the Ten Man Commandments. Number four, I think.”
“But Mik never said a word to me that whole time. And afterward, he disappeared to wherever he goes and didn’t reappear until tonight.” Her voice dropped. “And now I won’t see him again until next year.”
“Nope. He’ll show up when you least expect it. And it’ll be soon.”
“You have absolutely no basis for that assumption.”
“Ah yes, but when I’m right, you owe me one pint of Ben and Jerry’s. AmeriCone Dream is my favorite.” He smiled and waited. It took a lot longer than with a normal person, but Jaycee smiled back.
“Fine,” she said.
“Told you I was good at girl talk.”
She pulled her legs back into her car and closed the door. “I take it back, Zach Ferris. You’re not entirely worthless.”
“And you’re not entirely batshit crazy, Jaycee Strangelove.” He held out his fist through the window, and she bumped it. And then she drove away, and Zach was alone. Even his father was out—at his girlfriend’s house no doubt.
Zach turned on every single light and popped open the lock on his father’s liquor cabinet. Then he retreated to the basement and flicked on his old-school Nintendo with his big toe, wishing that Natalie would crawl through the window and get right under his skin where she belonged.
Chapter 11
Mikivikious
Moonville Tunnel
Chapter 12
Natalie
Natalie awoke feeling torn in half. She was sprawled out on a foreign bed, a wretched taste in her mouth. She dragged herself into a sitting position before the events of the night crashed over her. Where was she? What had she done? Where was she? What had she done?
Her head pounded until she had to hold on to it with both hands, peering between fingers that reeked of vomit.
Answer one question, she told herself. Take it slow. Where was she? Natalie looked around at a boy’s room, having a whipping flash of the frat boy she’d been with hours earlier. She’d been in his bed too. But no, this was a different boy’s room. This was a room she’d been in before…a lifetime ago. Jake’s room?
Jake?
She scooted up in the twin bed and looked down to where Jaycee slept all curled up with her hands wrapped around her cell phone. Natalie’s throat ached, and she tried to remember how she’d gotten here, but the only clear memories were even harder to swallow than drunken flashes. She remembered wandering through the woods behind The Ridges, never finding Bishop. Torn up, she’d gone to Kolenski’s to find Zach and collapse into him, but he wasn’t there, and she went uptown. She went to find someone to make her feel something else.
Anything else.
Natalie wrapped her arms around her chest. Her shirt was missing, and she was only in a bra. What was worse, she could totally hear Mr. Strangelove walking around the hall. She stood up, and her legs shook. She opened a dresser drawer and pulled at the clothes inside, but suddenly Jaycee was on her, knocking her hands away.
“I fall asleep for an hour and wake to find you in Jake’s underwear drawer?”
“I need a shirt,” Natalie said, one arm over her bra. “Your dad is out there. Imagine his face if he came in and saw me like this.”
Jaycee’s fury settled. “True. I’ll get you something. Stay here. Don’t touch anything.”
Jaycee ducked out of the room, and Natalie slunk back to Jake’s bed and pulled the covers over her head. She wanted to cry, but her body couldn’t muster it. Her mind was stuck on that moment she’d been standing on the couch at the frat house, screaming and dancing—right before she threw her arms around that bastard and kissed…
Jaycee returned and tossed a black T-shirt to Natalie. She pointed to the trash can. To what was left of Natalie’s baby-pink camisole. “Don’t think you’re going to want to save that one. I had to pull it over your crying, miserable head at four in the morning. Remember?”
Natalie felt like she was melting. The shirt was so soft and the bed was warm. She curled up in a ball, knees to chest. “Jayce,” she said softly, “please go easy on me.”
Jaycee sat on the edge of the bed and handed Natalie a glass of water.
Natalie sipped at it, but for all her apparent dehydration, her body didn’t want anything. “You took care of me last night.” She reached up and touched the rubber band in her hair, recalling how Jaycee had fastened it into a ponytail while she was throwing up. “What about your precious hatchet?”
“I don’t hate you, Natalie. I’m mad. There’s a huge difference.” Jaycee’s voice was as gentle as it could be, which only made Natalie want to cry. “You have to tell me if someone hurt you. If something happened.”
“No, no,” Natalie started. “Nothing like that. But Mik. He…”
“What about him?”
“Mik brought me here, right? What happened before that?”
“You’re supposed to know that,” Jaycee said. “Did he find you at Kolenski’s?”
Natalie forced the words. “I was at Kolenski’s, but then some people were heading uptown to a frat party. I went with them.”
“You went to a frat party with strangers,” Jaycee said flatly. “Jesus Christ, you’re lucky you didn’t get raped, Natalie.”
Natalie turned her face into the pillow. Breathe, breathe. “I was with Zach’s brother’s friends. They were looking out for me. I wasn’t even drinking at first.”
“Then why were you crying when Mik brought you here? You didn’t…” Jaycee shook Natalie’s shoulder sort of hard until Natalie looked at her. “You hooked up with Mik. Is that it?”
“No!”
“Then how did you end up half-dressed and hanging over his shoulder?”
“I don’t…remember,” she said, which was a lie. A necessary lie, because she was not going to think about who she had been with. No. Not ever. Never. She could shove that down and ignore it. Leave it all behind when she went to New York. The only problem was that the further she pushed her secrets down, the more she felt things ripping inside. Just like last night.
She ran her fingers over the frayed edge of Jaycee’s old T-shirt. “What did Mik say?”
“Nothing, per usual.”
“But you’re his friend, right? You can ask him.”
“Selective mute, Nat.”
Natalie sat up and squared her shoulders, finger-combing her hair. She could do this. She could just push through it. “Yes, he’s selective, which means that he does talk to some people.”
“Well, Mik doesn’t talk to me.” The words made Jaycee’s face do a weird thing. A sour thing. “I’m not one of his people.” She checked her text messages and tossed the phone onto the end of the bed with a little too much force.
“Who are you waiting on?” Natalie’s heart thumped hard. “Did you text Zach?”
“I don’t have your boyfriend’s number. Besides, the state in which you arrived did not suggest that you wanted him around.”
“State,” Natalie repeated.
“Crying your face off. Say
ing you were sorry. Puking your guts out.”
“I’m sor—”
“I don’t want to hear it again. You scared the hell out of me. I’ve never seen you so…destroyed. And you kept saying that thing.”
“What thing?” Natalie felt cold all of a sudden. She held on to herself.
“I’m not Natalie. I can’t do this.” Jaycee paused. “Over and over. I’m not Natalie! I can’t do this! What the hell was that about?”
Natalie stared out the window. Her whole life felt like it was waving, teetering in on her. She had reverse vertigo…whatever it’s called when it feels like the sky is falling on you.
“Natalie.” Jaycee’s voice was strong and surprisingly caring. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Natalie whispered. “Sounds like gibberish.”
There was a long pause, and Natalie could feel Jaycee’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t look at them.
“I’m sorry,” Jaycee finally said. “About last night. About taking all your friends away from you and up on the roof. I understand that that probably bothered you.”
“You all could have died. That’s what bothered me.”
“But it was an amazing view.” Jaycee looked at Natalie with that superiority thing she always did so well. “Next time, just climb the roof. Then maybe you won’t feel like the world is passing you by.”
“That’s not how I feel. The world is breaking.” She hadn’t meant to say that.
“Explain,” Jaycee ordered.
Natalie busied herself with her hair. “I’m just hungover. It’s nothing. What’s that?” She pointed at a small triangle of folded paper on the rug, desperate to distract Jaycee.
“Must have fallen out of the drawer,” Jaycee said, picking it up and turning it over in her hand. “It’s Jake’s.”
“Open it.”
“I don’t like to go through Jake’s things. I found his porn stash in his closet a few years ago, and I think it’s best not to know everything.” Despite her words, Jaycee kept looking at it, so Natalie scooped it out of her hand and opened it.
“It’s just that stupid map he used to carry around. Look.”
“What?”
“Jake’s urbex map.” Natalie smoothed it down on the bed. “Don’t you remember? He used to scribble on this and talk to himself. He had that journal too.”
Jaycee blinked at her.
“There’s no way you don’t remember this! Remember that one time he came home from being out all night, and he’d mangled his knee. He was icing it at the kitchen table and said he’d been in an abandoned mall up in Cleveland. Your mom was so mad.”
Jaycee was still staring, practically enraptured.
“That was the time he explained his urban exploring fascination—how he’d been hiking through man-made ruins every weekend. You said you wanted to go with him, and I said that’s insanely stupid, and he said you had to wait until you were eighteen to tag along. And then he told me that I couldn’t come no matter what.”
Bright tears spotted Jaycee’s eyes. “Why don’t I remember that? I mean, I can see it now when you say it, but before it was like.…gone.”
Natalie folded up the map into its tight little triangle. “Don’t know, Jayce. Sounds like you’ve got some emotional roadblocks.” Nice one; her therapist would be proud.
“You remember lots of things, don’t you?” Jaycee scooted closer on the bed. “Like you were saying in the tunnels. You remember that stuff with the pumpkins and the gasoline.”
“What I remember is how hard you and I worked to dig out the sand pit and plant all those old garden tools and vases. Remember? We were going to recreate the discovery of King Tut’s tomb and film it and become a YouTube sensation. I was going to be Howard Carter, and you were going to be the Fifth Earl of Carnarvon. Remember the costumes?” Natalie crossed her arms and looked down. “I did a lot of research for that. We never did get to finish it after Jake got pissed and Mik put glue in my hair.”
“I forget stuff,” Jaycee said, her eyes glazed. “No, it’s not even forgotten. It’s more like things just disappear. Poof.”
Natalie watched her carefully. Jaycee didn’t look quite right. Distant and sort of starving. “Maybe you’re just moving on. I mean, you’re a day past graduation now. You’ve already made it further than Jake ever did.”
Jaycee’s mouth fell open. “What a fucking thing to say, Natalie.”
“Hey, it’s true. Isn’t truth the only thing you respond well to?”
Jaycee strode across the room to Jake’s desk. She dug into a drawer and came back with a Mead journal. “This is the journal you were talking about?”
Natalie nodded, unsure of where this was going.
Jaycee opened it and flipped around to a few pages, then she sprang back onto the bed and unfolded the map. “You see that marker over Athens? It says TB ward, and there’s the little chimney he drew.”
“Like the doodle you found on the porch,” Natalie said, thankful for this distraction.
“All of these…look at them!” Jaycee flipped open the journal next to the map. “These are all places that Jake went and left messages. Dares.”
“Dares,” Natalie deadpanned.
“I can go there and do them. And I can read what he thought in his journal.”
“Jayce…”
Jaycee wasn’t listening. “I bet Mik would know about it.” She grabbed at her phone and checked the screen, growling, “I gave him my number and nothing. Nothing!”
“Who? Mik?”
“Yeah. Last night after he dumped you here, I chased him into the street to ask what was going on. He just stared at me. So I grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and put my number in it. I told him to text me.”
Natalie paused with her mouth on the water glass. “Pants pocket or trench-coat pocket?”
“How does that matter?”
“In boyland, reaching into a pants pocket is the flirty equivalent of flashing your boobs,” Natalie said.
Jaycee’s cheeks turned lava red, and her face looked like it might melt off.
“So, pants pocket,” Natalie interpreted. “And now he hasn’t texted. And you’re upset.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“So you do like him.”
Jaycee scowled. “Like him? I barely know him. And that’s beside the point. I chased him down because I wanted to know what happened to you. I mean, do I need to call the cops or take you to the hospital or anything?”
Natalie looked down, her own cheeks going scarlet. “I’m okay. I’m…”
The door opened after a swift knock, and Jaycee’s dad popped his head in. “Is that Natalie? Natalie Cheng?” He swept into the room and gave Natalie a crushing hug. “I thought I heard someone in here. How are you, Miss Graduate?”
“I’m all right, Mr. Strangelove. Just hanging out with Jaycee. We went to a party last night,” she invented.
“It was, like, the best time ever,” Jaycee valley-girled.
Jaycee’s dad put his other arm around Jaycee, squeezing them together. “I’ll tell you what. It’s a dream to see you two together. I knew nothing could keep you apart forever.”
“Dad,” Jaycee said. “We’re busy.”
He moved to the door, still smiling hugely. “All right, ladies. I’m going to make pancakes. What do you all think of that?”
Natalie forced a grin, nauseated by the mere mention of food. Jaycee tried to shut the door behind him, but he pushed his head back in.
“Hey, Natalie, maybe you can get Jaycee to move out of this room.”
“Jake’s room,” Jaycee snapped back. “It’s Jake’s room, Dad. Not ‘this room.’ Don’t act like he was never here.”
“Yes, fine. Jake’s room. But still not your room.”
“Bye, Dad,” Jaycee said. He closed the
door, and Natalie felt sorry for the man. Jaycee went back to the map, tracing her finger from the chimney to the next nearest marker. “Jake did something in Moonville—that old haunted railway tunnel out in Vinton County. That’s not even a half hour away. Bet Mik knows how to get there.” She glanced at her phone and frowned. “I’ve never been so desperate for someone to text me before. Feels like hell.”
“Jaycee, your dad—”
“Tries too hard. Makes me twitch.”
“Don’t be so dismissive. Grief is atypical, and you can’t expect everyone to have the same process as you.”
“Thank you, Dr. Cheng.”
“Well, I am majoring in psychology at Cornell.”
Jaycee squinted at her. “Which makes so much sense, considering the fact that you’ve wanted to be a history professor since birth.”
“Well, I’m minoring in history. Academia is unstable. Getting tenure is all but impossible these days. The market is flooded with graduate students who can’t get jobs elsewhere.”
Jaycee sat back on her heels. “How does your mom do it?”
“Do what?”
“Turn you into a ventriloquist dummy and throw her voice from your house. Isn’t it a little cruel for her to tell you not to go into the same profession that she has?”
“It was my decision, if you must know. And fine. You want to smack each other every time we talk? Then I get to point out that you act like Jake’s still here, Jaycee. He’s not. He’s dead. This room is like a weird shrine. And let’s not forget the way you wear his clothes.”
Jaycee’s face went dark, and she pulled on her shirt. “Leave, Natalie.”
Natalie put her shoes on and kept all her words down. All her sadness pressed in. She was at the door when Jaycee snapped a look up from the journal. “Do me a favor. Take Zach back, will you? He’s irksome, but he needs you. Don’t dick him over when you go to New York. Don’t turn your back on him like you did to me.”
Natalie shut the door hard. One arm instinctively wrapped around her chest, and the other went around her waist. She was going to hold herself together. She was. But first she needed a plan to get through this damn summer, and before that, she had to figure out how to walk downstairs and past Mr. Strangelove without throwing up or bursting into tears.
You Were Here Page 6