“Some fucker stole my bag!” There were tears in her eyes that made Zach’s face sting. Man, he was so bad at not feeling what everyone else felt. “My brother’s notebook was in there.”
“Okay, so we’ll find it. I’ll help you. I’ll ask my new BFF.” Zach took her by the hand, but Jaycee pulled away sharply, wincing.
“Hurt my wrist,” she said. She offered her other hand, and Zach was surprised that she held onto his fingers sweetly like Alianna used to before she turned twenty-five, a.k.a. twelve. He led Jaycee to Darren, who began to inspect her boobs with fierce admiration. Zach felt oddly protective in that moment, especially because Jaycee’s usual fire and contempt were missing. She looked like she was about to start sobbing.
“Someone stole her bag. Do you know who’d do that?”
Darren glanced over the crowd. “Yeah, fucking bored middle schoolers. They steal our stuff and throw bottles and cans at us from up there.” He pointed to the top of the iron wedge gate that stood before the massive drain opening.
“Where do they take it?” Jaycee asked.
Darren pointed into the drain. “They have a little hideout. About thirty minutes’ walk.”
“Thirty minutes!” Zach said. Jaycee was already off, slipping through the iron gate and heading into the black hole of the huge sewer. “Wait! I’m coming with you!” He ran and tripped. “Should we go get Natalie and her thingy?” He tapped his forehead to indicate the headlamp.
“They stole her bag too. But we have this.” She held up Mik’s Zippo.
“Where’s the trench coat that comes with it?”
“Probably making out with Natalie.”
Zach froze, imagining Natalie and Mik all hot ’n’ heavy. Was he the guy she’d hooked up with weeks ago?
“I’m not serious,” Jaycee said. “They’re being pals and looking at me like I’m overreacting. Like this is my fault. It’s Natalie’s fault. She was supposed to watch my bag.”
Zach pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Okay, so we go after the kids. We’ll get your stuff. Don’t stress.” She cradled her injured wrist against her chest.
The drain was huge. Zach reached his hands up and touched the cool, damp cement. “Heeeellllloooo?” he called into the dark.
Bishop appeared, stepping forward out of the black with a large Sharpie in his hand. “Zach. Are you drunk?”
“No.”
Jaycee pushed around Zach. “Did you see some idiot kids come in here?”
Bishop nodded. “Little punks. They ruined something I was trying to draw.”
“Which way did they go?” she asked. Bishop pointed into the tunnel, and Jaycee started off on her own.
Zach looked to Bishop. “We’ve got to get Jaycee’s bag back. Want to come?”
Bishop shook his head. “I’m working on something.”
“Yeah, of course.” Zach walked after Jaycee, his thoughts stinging with unsaid words. Within a few minutes, the low light from the partiers and their fire was gone. Jaycee held up Mik’s Zippo with the hand that wasn’t bandaged. It illuminated the graffiti outline of a black man with triangles on his chest—a sentinel of sorts.
“Shit. This is spooky.” Zach imagined what it would be like to get lost down here, all alone in the cement cold. The pink vodka tossed around in his chest. “If Mik jumps out at us like he did in The Ridges, I’ll kick his nuts.”
“He won’t.” Jaycee snorted. “He’s pouting because he accidentally talked to me.”
“Say what?” Zach asked. “I thought you wanted him to talk to you or that he wanted to talk to you or something more…mutual?”
“Ask Natalie,” Jaycee said. “She claims to have all the answers.”
“But she’s not like you. She won’t show her cards. Not for anything. You’re honest.”
“Keep in mind that Natalie refers to my brand of honesty as ‘brutal.’”
“Exactly.” They pushed farther into the drain, and Zach couldn’t hold back anymore. “Do you know who Natalie hooked up with after graduation? She said she went to your house.”
Jaycee scowled. “You should just ask her who she slept with.”
“Slept with? Whoa, no. She made out with someone.” He burped and felt the burn of the liquor in his throat. “She’s been weird about it. Do you think she…hooked up with Bishop?”
The quiet in the drain became too loud, even their footsteps were silent.
“That seems possible,” Jaycee said. “She’s definitely acting weird. Oh…hey, I did overhear her and Bishop arguing about something personal.”
Zach’s face crashed into his palm. As much as he had run his thoughts through the idea of Natalie and Bishop, he couldn’t actually stomach it. “I don’t know what she’s capable of,” he said miserably. “She’s getting ready to dump everyone before taking off to New York. That stupid place. I swear its tagline is ‘Where all Natalie Cheng’s dreams come true.’”
“Are you sure she wants to go there?” Jaycee was walking faster. “Seems like she’s just running away. And majoring in psychology? That’s got her mother stamped all over it.”
“I don’t really know where her mom ends and she begins,” Zach admitted.
“How could you spend four years with her and not know that?”
He shrugged. “We don’t do a lot of talking.”
“Ew.”
“No, really. Our relationship is more about physical support. There’s stuff that she’s going through…stuff she says I can’t understand. And vice versa. We tend to hug it out instead of talk it out. Not that that’s been happening lately.”
Jaycee was quiet. And unfortunately, her silence invited more of Zach’s insecurities.
“Maybe you can help me with something. I’ve been thinking about how you don’t have to go to college. How you said you’re not interested, and your parents listened to you. I…want to do that too. How do I do it?”
Jaycee’s face looked pretty stark by the light of Mik’s Zippo. “I played the dead brother card. Don’t think that’ll help you much.”
“Oh. Right.” Zach could picture the next five years like they were a movie he was being forced to watch. His mother would end up needling him until he studied something she approved of; his father would hound him into a job with security. Alianna would come over when she was in high school and steal his booze, pointing out that his girlfriend didn’t respect him. And then to top it all off, Tyler would stop by and make him feel eternally like the nine-year-old who’d found condoms in his mom’s glove compartment.
Jaycee kept speeding up. Their steps were now echoing loudly along with the sound of water trickling deep. “So these are storm sewers?” he asked, because he was starting to imagine never getting back out to face the moon again.
“Sure. At any moment, these drains could flood, and we would be swept to our deaths.”
“Hey, Creeperson, don’t freak out the person who’s helping you! You think about these things a lot?”
“You don’t?” she asked. He shook his head. “I guess that makes sense. When I saw my brother die, my whole perspective on things changed. Life has borders all over the place. I like looking for them. Feeling them out. It gets you close to the other side.”
Zach imagined Jaycee standing right on the edge of nothing. “Are we talking heaven or The X-Files?”
Jaycee smirked. “A mash-up of both, I think.” She continued after a moment. “Natalie thinks I’m damaged. That’s why we can’t be friends. She wasn’t there. She didn’t see Jake. She can’t understand.”
“I get that. Bishop acts like I can’t possibly understand his heartbreak but—”
Jaycee shushed Zach. At the same time, footsteps began to pound toward them, getting louder and faster. Zach flattened himself against the tunnel wall, but Jaycee stood in the way, closing the Zippo so that they were in the pitch-black.<
br />
When the middle schoolers came rushing through, they hit Jaycee, colliding into a mess of limbs on the damp ground. A few of them yelled, but Jaycee snagged one by the collar. Zach used his phone to illuminate the kid’s petrified face while the rest of them bugged off. “Your friends ditched you. Ouch.”
“You stole my bag. Where is it?” Jaycee said.
“Lemmego!”
“My. Bag.”
The kid pointed in the direction he’d come, and Jaycee hauled him to his feet by the back of his shirt. She marched him through the tunnel until they found the hideout, which consisted of a pile of milk crates and boxes. Green glow sticks had been snapped and strung on a wire overhead.
Zach tapped one of them, making it swing, while the kid pointed to a pile of bags and purses. Jaycee dug, tossing Natalie’s survival gear bag at Zach. She pulled her beaten canvas bag out of the bottom and yanked it open—but then her face went even more sickly green than the glow sticks.
“Where is the notebook?” She grabbed at the kid, and Zach instinctively held Jaycee back before she throttled the boy.
The kid fell on his butt, and yet he laughed. “We burned it in the fire pit.”
Jaycee went to nothing in Zach’s arms. One minute she was there, and the next she was empty. She made no sound. No movement. The kid stopped laughing after a few seconds, perhaps figuring out that he’d done something really wrong. He got up and sprinted past them.
Zach slid down the tunnel wall with Jaycee’s weight crushing him. She started to shake hard, and fear spiked through him. They were a long way away from help.
“I’m going to…we’re going to go now,” he said. “Come on.”
Jaycee was way heavier than Natalie, and they fell many times, getting grimy in the runoff water. He fought the feeling that he was in his own coffin by rebuilding the scene in his mind, LEGO brick by LEGO brick. They weren’t in the sewers beneath Columbus. They were in a snapped-together plastic-block world…
When he could finally see the distant opening of the drain, Zach leaned against the wall, breathing hard. “Say something, Strangelove. You’re freaking me out.”
“I hadn’t even read the whole thing yet,” she whispered. “This is all Natalie’s fault.”
“Maybe it didn’t burn all the way,” he said. “Maybe it’s on the edge of the fire. Or someone pulled it out.”
Jaycee was up in a flash, sprinting. Zach could barely keep up with her as she ran out of the drain, through the crowd to the rusted metal trash bin holding the fire. Zach realized immediately how cruel it was to give Jaycee hope. Anything that went into that trash can went up in a blink. Game over.
Chapter 28
Natalie
Natalie searched for Jaycee. The girl was probably in the depths of the drainage system now…or wandering the streets of Columbus…or in Zach’s arms?
The fire illuminated quite possibly the weirdest thing Natalie had ever seen—Jaycee wrapped up in Zach’s hold, staring longingly at the fire pit.
“Zach!”
Zach let go of Jaycee, and she stumbled as if he had been keeping her from diving into the trash bin. Jaycee’s gaze reached across the fire to meet Natalie. The girl’s eyes were unbelievably black.
“Natalie,” Zach started. “Something happened and—”
“You did this,” Jaycee said.
“Did what? What did I do now?” Natalie yelled, furious. “And what did you do? Seduce my boyfriend to get back at me? That’s ridiculous even for you!”
Mik appeared behind Natalie, touching her shoulder in restraint.
“Looks like we’ve traded,” Jaycee said hotly.
Natalie threw Mik’s hand off. “I can’t believe you’d think I’d—”
Jaycee walked away. She left the light of the bonfire and the riot of the partiers, heading up the side of the cement ditch. Natalie had to follow. Her brain was so fed up that she couldn’t see anything other than Jaycee’s back. “Get Bishop,” she snapped at Mik. “We’re leaving.”
Natalie told herself that she was going to have it out with Jaycee right now come hell or high water. And considering she was standing at the “gates of hell,” which were built for high water, that couldn’t be more apropos. But before she could move, Zach’s voice stopped her.
“Natalie. Those kids burned her brother’s journal.”
Natalie’s anger flatlined. Mik swore. And then they were all heading up the incline, beating back trees to find Jaycee in the parking lot. Natalie was the fastest one. “Jayce—”
Jaycee moved in so fast that Natalie braced for a punch, but instead Jaycee hugged her. Really hugged her.
Natalie held on tight. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Jayce.”
All three boys came up the incline, and Natalie waved them back while she held on to Jaycee. The girl’s whole body was trembling.
“Every time I trust you, I get burned,” Jaycee whispered.
“What?”
“I can’t trust you.” Jaycee’s hand slunk into Natalie’s back pocket. “You shouldn’t trust me either.” Jaycee stepped away, already reading Mik’s note about Tyler.
“Don’t say anything,” Natalie breathed.
Jaycee looked from the scrap of paper. “I thought you slept with Mik. Or possibly Bishop.”
Natalie glanced at the boys. She could tell two things instantly. One, Mik and Bishop knew exactly what was happening. Two, Zach had no clue. Until Jaycee held the note out to him.
“Jaycee!” Natalie cried.
“What’s this?” Zach took it.
“Truth,” Jaycee said to him. “Natalie slept with your brother.”
There was a dead moment.
And strangely enough, the first person to act was Mik. He moved forward, caught Jaycee by the upper arm, and hauled her back toward Natalie’s car. Bishop touched Zach’s shoulder and looked like he was going to say something, but then he left too.
“I don’t understand,” Zach finally said. He held out the note. “What does this mean?”
“Wait, Zach. Hear me out. That’s not the whole story. That’s just what—”
“What does this mean?” He threw the piece of paper. “WHAT’S HAPPENING?” Natalie stepped back. Zach tugged his hair until it flared crazily. “You slept with Tyler?”
“No. Well, not really. I don’t know if I—”
“Don’t lie! You were at his frat? In his bed?”
Natalie couldn’t answer. The look on Zach’s face was killing her. It made her heart beat miserably loud and her ears ring with her own voice. “Zach, let’s go home. We’ll talk.”
“You were either in his bed or you weren’t. Answer.”
“I…I was.”
He fell backward like she’d hit him. She grabbed his hand and tried to help him up, but he flung her away. “Don’t fucking touch me!” He got to his feet, started toward the partiers, and then whipped around. “Why?” He was crying. “Do you hate me? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, I love you. I was upset, but not with you. I don’t really know why I did it.”
“I know why. It’s because I’m the village idiot, and you’re sick of being brought down.”
She reached for him again. “Let’s go home, Zach.”
“Leave. I’m not getting in a car with you.”
She called his name, but he was gone. Bishop appeared at her shoulder while she stood there, shaking and tearing at her arms with her nails. He sighed. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”
“Bishop?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck off.”
Chapter 29
Bishop
Chapter 30
Jaycee
Two a.m. Maybe later. Natalie was driving, which probably wasn’t a good idea. Not because she was so upse
t that she was going too fast—nope. Quite the opposite. She was driving at least ten miles under the speed limit. No one said a word about it.
No one said a word period, and yet the silence was deafening. In the backseat, I forced my fingers in my ears, unable to stop the sounds of what had happened. That thunderclap look on Zach’s face…Natalie’s shrieking, pleading. Mik shoving me into the car and slamming the door.
I tried to focus on Jake, on his journal, but I couldn’t hold on to it. Not its image. Not my anger at its destruction. Jake’s death had always been a void, bleak and bottomless, but ultimately safe. I could scream into that black hole and not even hear myself, but all this? It was deafening. Poor fucking Zach. How would he get home? What if something happened to him?
My voice broke with a drowning sort of gasp. Mik looked across the expanse of the huge backseat. Did he hate me? He’d been so angry…or hurt…or…I don’t know.
I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.
What do you want from me?
I stared him down until I knew he felt his pocket vibrate. Until I knew that he was ignoring it on purpose. After all, he’d seen me type it.
These trips were supposed to bring me back to Jake, but now all I could feel was the distance. The mounting miles between Natalie and Zach. The impossible gap between Mik and me. My lungs burned like I was trying to breathe water. What was this? Guilt waterboarding? I started to laugh. Couldn’t stop myself. Natalie glanced at me through the rearview mirror like I was a bomb that had snuck into her Oldsmobile.
“You all right?” Bishop glanced over his shoulder.
All right? All right was not in my vocabulary. I turned toward the window, pressed my face to the pane, and kept laughing. If I stopped, I’d start to cry and drown, and they’d all see just how ugly my feelings could get. My phone buzzed, giving me Mik’s one-word answer.
You.
I laughed harder, and Mik scooted next to me. Hip to hip. I had half a mind to open the car door, duck, and roll, but he took my arm. I calmed enough to let him unwrap the bandage. He rotated my hand, watched me wince, and then held the back of my wrist to his cheek like he was checking the temperature. He wrapped it back up and kept my fingers cradled in his. We weren’t holding hands. We were somewhere in that gray area—touching but not touching. I spent so long trying to figure out what our hands were doing that before I knew it, we were back in Athens.
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