“Nothing,” I said. Which was idiotic, but nothing I could say would make the situation any better anyway.
“This is who you were texting with? How well do you even know this boy? What were you thinking?” Each word was louder than the last.
“His name is Zander, I met him—”
“I don’t care where you met him!” she screamed, her voice shrill. “You won’t be seeing him again.”
“Mom!”
“Get inside.” She pointed at the house behind her, which suddenly looked like a prison. I didn’t move. She rushed forward and grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my flesh. She pulled me forward.
Zander stepped toward us. “Let go of her.”
“Get the hell off my property,” she responded, not even turning to look at him.
“You’re hurting her,” he said, and she stopped. She dropped my arm and twirled around.
“I’m hurting her?” she growled. “I don’t know what you said, or what you did, to convince my daughter to sneak around, but it’s over. She’s a good girl, and I won’t let you hurt her. Go. Now.” She grabbed my arm again and dragged me toward the house so fast I couldn’t hear what Zander said next. I stumbled next to her, begging her to stop and listen to me.
Even when we got inside she said nothing. She slammed the door behind her and let go of my arm to lock it. I rubbed my sore skin, my fingers trailing over the half-moon indentations from her nails.
“I can’t believe you would do this,” she said, her voice low. She turned to look at me and tears stained her face. Any defense I had inside of me disappeared at the sight of those tears.
“I’m sorry.”
“Do you have any idea what could have happened?” Her voice shook, breaking on the words. “Go to your room. I can’t even look at you.” Her face fell into her hands as she sank down onto a kitchen chair.
Tears burned my eyes as I forced my thousand-pound feet to take me to my room. I sat on my bed and stared at the wall.
Chapter Twenty
Zander
I stared at her house not knowing what to do. My parents had been mad at me plenty of times over the years, but I’d never seen the kind of anger that was in Anya’s mom’s eyes. I was scared for her.
Part of me wondered if I should call someone. I’d never forgive myself if Anya’s mom hurt her and I’d done nothing to help her. But with all the things Anya had told me about her mom, she never said anything about her being abusive. She loved her mom, and even though she’d been scared of getting in trouble, she’d never seemed scared of her mom. Not like that.
Finally I left, walked home in the dark, hoping everything would be okay. Anya’s mom couldn’t stay mad forever. Could she? Things would blow over, and now at least it was out in the open.
I sneaked back into my house and fell into bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about what she’d said. “She’s a good girl, and I won’t let you hurt her.” Hurting Anya was the last thing I would ever want to do, and yet, I already had.
I eventually fell asleep, but the look on Anya’s face as she was pulled away from me filled my dreams. I woke in a sweat.
The morning went by in a blur. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Blake called to tell me about some crap with our new place, but the words barely registered. Whether or not we had a dishwasher in our apartment was not really my main concern.
“Hey, what’s with you?” Blake asked, bringing me back into the conversation.
“What?”
“I just told you the rooms were painted pink with blue butterflies and you mumbled ‘okay.’ You are totally not listening to me.”
“Sorry, I’m just distracted.” I stared at the ceiling in my room and thought about starry skies and Anya’s lips on mine, the warmth of her body in my arms. It was already feeling too far away.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your imaginary milkmaid, would it?”
I sighed and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of my bed. “She’s not imaginary.” I pressed my fingers into my temple, hoping to alleviate some of the pain.
“Yeah, okay. Want to tell me what happened?”
“Not really.”
“Fine. But then you need to actually participate in this conversation. You’re going to be living there, too, you know.”
“Fine.”
“Wow. You are just a bundle of joy tonight. You know that?”
I didn’t respond. Silence stretched across the line for a minute, then I heard Blake sigh. “Look, whatever it is, if it’s meant to be, it’ll work out. Okay?”
What will be, will be. I had to believe that Anya and I were meant to be. If I didn’t, there was no way I was going to get through this. I just kept hoping she’d call, or text, something to let me know things would be all right.
Anya
I spent the whole day in my room. I knew she hadn’t left for work. I could hear her moving around downstairs, and I didn’t dare venture out. The sun set, dinner passed, and still my mom didn’t make any attempt to come talk to me about what had happened. I wouldn’t have been able to eat anyway. My stomach was not my friend.
Eventually my lack of sleep from the night before caught up with me, and I fell asleep on my teary pillowcase. I woke early the next morning to the sound of knocking. I sat up as my mom peered around the door, walked in, and sat on the edge of my bed.
I waited for her to say something, anything. Some small part of me hoped she’d admit she’d overreacted. That she’d sit down next to me and ask about Zander. I could show her his picture and tell her about how sweet he was, and she’d ask to meet him. Surely then she’d love him and everything would be okay.
Instead, when she spoke, her voice was still hard. Cold. “I know I have a lot of rules. I know that can be hard for you, but they are all to protect you. To keep you safe. I thought you understood that. I thought I could trust you. Clearly I was wrong. You won’t be seeing that boy again.”
My heart sank and my throat tightened. Tears stung the back of my eyes. I started to protest, anger filling my chest and pushing the words out, but she cut me off.
“You are grounded until further notice. And you won’t be getting your phone back.” She stood and walked to the door, then stopped and turned back to me. “It’s for your own good, Anya,” she said, her voice softer. She left, slowly pulling the door shut behind her.
I wanted to scream and yell and argue with her, but I couldn’t. I didn’t even know how to start. Instead, I told myself it was better to wait. To be patient. She couldn’t stay mad forever.
I ached all over, a sharp and steady pain focused in my chest. I didn’t know which hurt more, the thought of not seeing Zander again, or the look of utter disappointment in my mom’s eyes. I had always done everything to please her, and now I’d failed miserably.
Eventually I forced myself out of bed. I rearranged the books on my shelves. I organized my drawers. I unbraided and re-braided my hair. Nothing had the calming effect I sought. Finally I gave in, opened my computer, and pulled up the photographs I’d taken of Zander in the library. My mom had shut down our internet indefinitely, to further ensure there would be no contact between Zander and me. But I still had my photos. Thankfully she hadn’t thought to search through them.
He looked different to me now. I knew every part of him. I knew what it felt like to run my fingers through his hair. I knew the roughness of his cheeks in the evening and the softness of his touch on my face. I knew the taste of his lips and the sound of his heartbeat.
I could no more imagine a life without him as I could a life without air.
Chapter Twenty-One
Zander
I tried emailing her, but it bounced back to me. I called her phone a hundred more times but got the same response each time. You have reached the voice mailbox of five zero seven─
I slammed the phone down and screamed at it.
It helped release some of the excess energy building in me, but not enough. I felt
like I would burst in half and send shards of me flinging around the room.
I tried to pack, thinking if I kept my hands busy, I’d somehow push it out of my head. But of course it was no use. Guilt ate at me. She told me this would happen. That her mother would freak if she knew. But I pushed it. I pushed it and ruined everything.
Wednesday night I almost lost my patience and went to her house, but I realized her mom was probably still on full alert. I didn’t want to risk getting her into any more trouble. I forced myself to wait.
On Thursday morning, I reached the library half an hour before they opened and paced up and down the sidewalk until Shannon came striding up.
“Hey, what’s up?” she asked as she unlocked the door.
“Have you talked to Anya?”
She stopped and spun around. “No. I tried calling her yesterday but didn’t hear back. I figured I’d see her today. Why? What’s going on?” Her look of concern narrowed down to a glare. “What happened?”
I ran my hands through my hair and swallowed hard. “Her mom caught her sneaking out.”
Shannon grabbed my arm and dragged me into the library. “Oh my God, what happened? What did she say?”
I told her everything.
Shannon stared at me, mouth hanging open. “Holy crap.”
People started trailing in then, so I grabbed my book and went to the back of the library to wait. I tried to read, but it was impossible. The words became blurry lines as I stared at the page. Every time someone came in, my head spun toward the door, holding my breath, hoping it would be her.
I sat there all day.
Just before they closed, a tall woman with dark red hair strode in and walked up to Shannon’s desk. She looked different in the light, and when she wasn’t all ticked off. Shannon stood up and smiled at her. “Hey, how are you? Where’s Anya today?” She sounded so casual, but her eyes flicked to me. I stepped closer, pretending I was looking at the books on the shelves, and waited for her answer.
“Anya’s grounded. I’m here to drop these off.” She set a bag of books on the desk. “I’ll pick up one she said was on hold.”
“Um, yeah, okay,” Shannon said, turning around and running her finger across a row of books on the side of the desk. “Here it is.” She handed it to Anya’s mom. “Is everything okay?”
I couldn’t see her face, but I could tell she tensed at the question. Her shoulders pulled back until she was rigid-straight, and her hand froze on the book. Both of them held an end of it. Neither of them moved. Finally, Anya’s mom ripped the book out of Shannon’s hand. “No offense dear, but it is really none of your concern.” She whipped around and strode out the door.
I went to the library every day that week and sat by myself while Shannon looked at me like I was a homeless puppy from one of those commercials on TV.
Then she came up with a brilliant plan. I was staring out the window when I heard her hissing my name. “Zander!” I looked up and she waved me over, excitement in her eyes.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping up to her desk.
“Look.” She pointed to her computer screen. “Anya requested a book online.” I looked at Anya’s name and the title of the book, trying to figure out if this was some sort of secret code I should be able to decipher. I looked at Shannon and shrugged.
“I don’t get it.”
“You can write her a letter. I’ll slip it in the book, and when her mom gives it to her, she’ll find it!”
A smile spread across my face for the first time in days. “Shannon, you are an absolute genius.”
“I know,” she said. “We have the book, but I’ll pretend it’s not in yet to give you time to write something. Bring it to me soon, though, and I’ll let her mom know it’s here.”
“Thank you so much!” I hopped up, leaned over her desk, and kissed her on the cheek.
When I got home, I grabbed a pencil, rummaged through the house to find a notebook, took it to my room, and stared at it.
I kind of knew what I wanted to say; the problem was, I had no idea how to say it. Multiple things whirred in my head. How much I missed her, and how sorry I was. I was terrified her mom would convince her that what we had was not as special as she thought it was.
It was. It meant so much to me. She meant so much to me. It had happened fast, but that didn’t make it less real. How could I put that into words in such a way as to make her understand without sounding like an idiot? I’d told Anya I wasn’t a writer, and it was true. I had no idea where to even start.
I wrote and erased until I put a hole in the paper, then I crumpled it up, threw it in the trash, and starting again. And again, and again, and again. Finally I stopped, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I looked down at the paper, pictured Anya’s face, and wrote. It only filled a single sheet. Even though I had a million things in my head, I couldn’t get them all out on paper. I just hoped it would be enough.
Anya
Three quick knocks rapped against the outside of my door. My mom. I sat up in my bed, my muscles tightening along my spine. I hated the tension that flowed between us, thick like fog you could hardly see through.
She opened the door and came in; I knew she would, whether I responded or not. “I stopped by the library to get that book for you,” she said, setting the book on my bed. I nodded my acknowledgement, but said nothing. She ignored my silence, pretending it was normal for us not to speak. Lately, it was.
After she left, I grabbed the book and read a few lines, but it couldn’t hold my interest. Lately nothing could. I’d taken out some of my old favorites and reread all the best parts. Kissing scenes, lovers in love, and happy endings where they ride off into the sunset. But that was it. My mom had requested this book for me, hoping to draw me out of my grumpiness.
I started flipping through it aimlessly. That’s how I found the note. It was folded in quarters and shoved between the pages, a fourth of the way through the book. My name was written in large, sloppy letters. I sat up and quickly unfolded it.
Dear Anya,
I have missed you so much. I tried calling, texting, emailing, but nothing has gone through. Your mom has been very successful at completely cutting me out of your life. I know she’s trying to protect you, but I wish she would give me a chance to show her I would never intentionally harm you.
But I’m worried I already have. I am so sorry I got you in trouble. I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you told me something like this might happen. I’m sorry I pushed myself into your life.
But I am not sorry for the moments I had with you. Each one bright and radiant in my memory. You brought sunlight into a life I hadn’t even realized was dim, and now I am completely surrounded by dark horizons.
Okay, please don’t think less of me for my lame attempt at being poetic.
And please don’t give up on us, Anya. Please. I love you, and I know we can find a way to make this work.
PS. Putting notes in the book was Shannon’s genius idea. I just hope it works and this makes it into your hands.
With all my love,
Zander
Two teardrops fell on the page, making the letters blur. I quickly wiped my cheeks before any more could fall and ruin another word. Each one was precious to me. I read them all three more times before fishing a notebook out of my desk and writing a response.
When I finished, I folded the letter, slipped it back into the library book, and said a silent promise that I would talk to my mom and fix this mess.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zander
Shannon agreed to call me when Anya’s mom returned the book, or if, by some miracle, Anya herself showed up at the library. When I saw Shannon’s number on my call ID, I nearly dropped my phone.
“Hello? Is she there?”
“No, but her mom just dropped off the book,” Shannon whispered over the line. Whether it was because this conversation was top secret, or simply because she was in the library, I didn’t know.
I opene
d my mouth to ask my next question and stopped. Nerves ate at my stomach. What if there was no note? Did it mean she hadn’t gotten mine, or that she hadn’t wanted to respond? Thankfully, I didn’t have to ask any of the questions in my head.
“There’s a note!” Shannon squealed, then her voice dropped again as she continued. “There’s a note. Do you want me to read it to you?”
“No, I’ll be right there.”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” she whined into the phone. I hung up without saying goodbye, grabbed what I needed off my desk, and ran all the way to the library. When I stumbled in the door out of breath, Shannon laughed at me and quickly handed it over.
I crossed the library in a few long strides and sat at a desk in the corner. With my hands shaking, I opened her note.
Dear Zander,
I miss you, too. Give up on us? Never. I’ve been so worried that you would give up on me. I wouldn’t blame you. I don’t know how long I’ll be in lockdown, but I’ll do my best to talk sense into my mom once she calms down enough to talk at all.
I’m sorry for all of this. I know I’m hardly worth waiting for, but thank you for waiting anyway. I think about you every day. I love you so much. You are so much better than anything I could have ever dreamed of. Hopefully it won’t be long before we are back in each other’s arms. Thank you so much for the letter; it brought a smile to an otherwise frown-filled day.
PS. It wasn’t lame. It was beautiful.
PPS. Tell Shannon thank you.
Love forever,
Anya
I lifted the paper to my nose, the smell of her still on it, then I slipped it into my back pocket before anyone saw me sniffing paper.
“Shannon,” I said, walking up to her desk. “I suppose her mom already took a book back to her, huh? I won’t be able to pass her another one until the next time?” The thought weighed down the happiness the note had brought me. I couldn’t wait that long to write her, to get another note back.
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