by Vi Keeland
“Morning.” She smiles broad and happy, stretching up on her tippy toes as she kisses my cheek.
“Someone got up on the right side of the bed this morning.” I switch to the other leg, lunging to complete my pre-run stretch.
“What is there not to be happy about?” I’m in total agreement, but curious as to what makes her realize it for herself this morning.
Beginning her own stretches, Emily spreads her legs, leaning over dramatically¸ placing both palms on the ground in front of her. Her ass perfectly positioned in front of me. Definitely intentional, but who am I to complain with such a great view. “I agree. In fact, I’m feeling happier by the minute.” I swat her ass. She giggles like a little girl.
“You wanna do the loop through town to the library and back, or head for the track at the school this morning?” We’ve been running together Saturday mornings since middle school. Sometimes I think it’s the only time I enjoy with Emily anymore. And maybe the times her parents go out for a few hours and I sneak over, but that always starts well and ends with me frustrated.
“Loop.” She puts one hot pink ear bud in, leaving the other dangling. “Race you to old man Wilkins’ house? Loser buys lunch.” Emily takes off before I can even respond.
Wilkins’ house is two blocks away, but they’re long blocks. I let her lead for about a block and a half. Then I blow past her, just as she starts to smell victory in the near distance. Neither one of us likes to lose at anything, it’s one of the few things we have in common anymore. But also one of the things that gets in our way.
“You cheated.” Face flushed, leaning over with both hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath, Emily frowns.
“How can I cheat? It’s a race and you took off before me. It’s not like I got in the car and drove here when you weren’t looking.”
“You made me think I was going to win.”
“So?”
“So, that’s cheating.”
“That’s not cheating, that’s playing with you.”
“Playing with me?” She stands, hands on her hips.
“Yep.” I lean down and kiss her chastely. She’s still out of breath, but I can see she’s trying not to let it show. I’m not winded at all.
“Well, let’s see if you’ll get to play with me tonight, then.”
“That sounds like a challenge.” Taking a step into her personal space, I look down at her, trying my best to intimidate her. But it only makes her feistier.
“Maybe if you’d let me win once in a while, I’d let you win.”
***
We spend two hours running together and then I buy her lunch, even though she lost the bet. I’m not even sure why I agree to her bets, because even when I win, she doesn’t lose.
She pushes half her salad around on her plate with her fork. “My parents are going out of town next Saturday night for a convention.”
“Oh yeah? You staying with Blair?”
“I was thinking I’d tell my parents I was staying with Blair, but we could stay at my house. Have the whole night together.” Emily bites her bottom lip, it’s her nervous tell. Ever since we were kids I could always tell when she was scared, even though she put up a brave front most of the time.
“Maybe you can tell your parents you’re staying at Keller’s house after the bonfire down at the beach. By the time we get home, your parents will be asleep and they won’t even notice us slip back into my house.”
I know what she’s telling me— damn, we’ve even argued about it a few times over the last year. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever. But now that she’s offering it to me, I feel guilty even thinking about taking it from her unless she’s ready.
“We don’t have to, Em.” Reaching out, I slip her hand into mine on top of the table. “I’ll wait, if you’re not ready.” I may freaking explode, but I’ll wait.
“I want to.”
“You sure?”
She leans in, her voice low, “I went on the pill last month. I’m ready.”
Jesus, I can’t believe it’s finally gonna happen. Just thinking about it, I’m glad I’m sitting so the whole diner can’t see the strain at the crotch of my pants.
***
Maybe I was letting my pent-up frustration out on Emily the last few months and it was affecting our relationship. Because everything seems to have gotten lighter, more carefree. Together we feel more like the old Zack and Em than we have in years.
I close Emily’s door and walk around to my side of the car. She scoots close to me, resting her hand on my lap affectionately. “Pretty soon I’ll be driving your ass to the movies.”
I turn the key in the ignition and the engine on my dad’s restored sixty-eight Charger comes to life. I still can’t believe he lets me take this thing. “Driver pays for the movie, you know,” I tease.
“I didn’t know there were rules.”
“Yep. Lots of ‘em. You get a typed list mailed to you with your license. You know, assuming you pass your road test.”
“You don’t think I’m a good driver?” Emily’s hand flies to her chest in a feigned, overdramatic pose.
“Men are better drivers.” I shrug.
She laughs. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s a known fact.”
“Known to whom?”
“Everyone.”
“It’s not known to me.”
“That’s because you don’t have your license yet. Those facts come in the same envelope with the rules.”
I pull up to the movie theatre. A gaggle of her girlfriends wave as I park. “They’re all coming to the movie?”
“They’re all my besties.”
“How can you have so many besties? You do know the term best refers to the most excellent one, right?” I tease, only half joking.
“You and your rules.” Emily checks her makeup for the third time in just the short distance to the theatre.
It takes less than five minutes for me to lose the Emily I was really enjoying today once she surrounds herself with her friends. I stop to say hello to two guys from my Spanish class and Emily rolls her eyes at me. I spend the movie missing the feel of her hand on my lap since she’s sitting between her two besties whispering. But the distance growing between us is far more than physical.
Chapter 5
Nikki—
Brookside, Texas
I wake in the clothes I wore yesterday. My head pounding and mind swirling, morning brings me no more clarity than yesterday. Except now I’m sober. At least I think I am. Daring to crack one eye open, my line of sight like a magnet to metal, the first thing I see in my cloudy vision is the tiny pink wristbands. I barely make it to the bathroom before emptying the contents of my stomach.
My dry heaving and retching wakes Ashley from her slumber, and she comes to check on me. She looks almost as bad as I feel.
“What the hell did we drink?” Ash wets an old facecloth and folds it over her head, laying her body across the cool tiled bathroom floor next to where I sit hugging the porcelain bowl.
Unable to lift my head to look at her, I try to remember. There was vodka. Not much, just three little mini bottles, the kind they give out on airplanes. Mom had them displayed on a shelf behind a plate painted with a picture of some old singer. I remember us drinking those…but I’m foggy what came after.
“We drank the little vodka bottles.”
Groaning, Ashley chimes in, “And then the Gin.”
“Gin?” Vaguely, I recall a deep green glass bottle. “Green bottle?”
“Yep.”
“How much did we drink?”
“All of it. Then you smashed it outside against the side of the trailer.”
“I did?” I’m shocked I can’t remember it, not shocked at my actions.
“Yep. You were screaming pretty loud too.”
Drinking is a favorite past-time in our trailer park, but it’s not something Ash and I ever got into. Concern about getting caught enters my brain— mos
t likely for the first time. Not much stays a secret in our little community. “Does your mom know?”
“I don’t think so.”
“How did you get her to let you sleep here?”
“I told her we were going to church and for a run and you shouldn’t be alone after.”
“Church?” I arch one eyebrow, but she can’t see it because my head is still dangling over the toilet bowel. I’m not sure if the thought of Ashley in church or her joining me on one of my daily five-mile runs is less believable.
“It was that or go home, and I was afraid to leave you alone.” Ashley’s voice drops lower, almost a whisper. “I can’t believe you might have a sister.”
***
Hours later, my hangover is finally at bay from a double dose of Tylenol and a gallon of water. But looking around the room makes me feel queasy again, only this time it has nothing to do with alcohol.
All of my worldly belongings fit into eight boxes— my usual seven, and one new box from the grocery store packed with Mom’s things I want to keep. Seventeen years of living and that’s what I’ve managed to collect along the way. And one of the boxes is almost completely packed with books. As I tape up the last box, tires on the gravel driveway at the side of our trailer alerts me to a visitor. Peering out the kitchen window confirms the visitor isn’t a welcome one. Evil Evans.
She knocks on the screen door frame, even though the inside door is wide open and she can clearly see me standing less than five feet away.
“Come in.” I don’t even stop what I’m doing to look up at her.
“How are you doing today, Nikki?” There’s zero warmth in her voice. Aren’t people who work with children supposed to be warm and comforting? This woman’s more like the ice queen.
“What do you want? I thought I had until tomorrow.”
“I came to give you something.” I look to her, but she doesn’t immediately move to take anything out. Instead, she forces me to make eye contact if I want to know what she’s here to deliver. I wait, holding her stare.
“Your mother gave me something a few weeks ago. She asked me to give it to you after she was gone. I wanted to give you a few days to grieve before I brought it by.”
Ms. Evans opens her bulging briefcase, slips out an envelope and holds it up. Mom’s handwriting is on the outside. There’s an ache in my chest, I fight the urge to reach up and clutch at it. “Did you read it?”
“No, I did not.” Her monotone voice matches her drab gray suit.
“Give it to me.” I put out my hand, my eyes never leaving hers. I won’t back down to this horrible woman. She can’t take me away from Mom since she’s already gone. I stare at her expressionless face, not letting her see the emotion hidden behind a mask. Eventually she hands it over.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. About noon?”
“Whatever.” I turn my back and walk into the back bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I wait until I hear her car pull away before I tear open the envelope.
Seeing Mom’s handwriting brings tears before I even begin to read her words.
Dear Nikki,
I know you’re probably mad I’m gone. But being mad is good sometimes. It makes you keep your guard up. The world is filled with people you can’t trust. They cloak themselves in good, but it only masks the bad underneath. You need to pay attention, find out who’s really hiding underneath.
It takes only the first few sentences in the letter for me to know she wrote it during one of her dark periods. The days she refused to take her medicine. Sometimes the side effects from all of her different pills were worse than her condition itself. It left her exhausted, unable to get out of bed for days, sometimes even weeks at a time. Eventually, she’d stop taking the meds. The dark period that followed usually lasted a few weeks. At first it wasn’t bad. But with each day off her medication, she’d become more and more paranoid. When I was younger, I thought it was true, that people really were out to get us. I constantly checked over my shoulder, like Mom did.
There are so many things that I should have told you. Things I kept from you because I needed to protect you. I didn’t want them to separate us. I love you, Baby Girl. To the moon and back, just like the book I used to read you. Only more. Lots more. So all of the secrets I kept, I kept for us. Because we were stronger together than apart.
But now you’re alone. So the truth needs to come out. I’m sorry to have kept it from you all these years. I don’t know any other way to tell you…I wish there was an easier way.
Nikki, you have a fraternal twin sister. And an aunt too. Neither one of us is an only child. Although, in our hearts, we always will be.
Your sister was sick. I couldn’t take care of her and take care of us. So your aunt made arrangements for us. She had the other baby adopted.
On your first birthday, I called your aunt to see if she could find out how your sister was. She said the baby left the hospital healthy and she didn’t know more. She may have been lying, because they were listening. So I hung up fast so they couldn’t trace the call and I never called her again. She vowed to keep the adoption a secret because the adoptive parents begged her to. They never plan to tell your sister she isn’t their real child. I’m sorry I’m not there with you now. I hate to leave you all alone. No one should be alone in the world. That’s why I’m telling you about your aunt. Her name is Claire Nichols. She has means and will help you if you ask. But be careful. She’ll stop at nothing to keep the secret of your sister from being exposed.
I’ll love you always. To the moon and back.
Mom
By the time I’m done reading, some of the inked words are blurred from my tears. Clenching her letters tightly against my chest, I curl up on the bed and cry myself to sleep, repeating the words over and over. To the moon and back, Mom. To the moon and back.
***
The next afternoon, I freeze when I hear the knock on the trailer door. I’d rehearsed what I was going to say to Evil Evans all night, but now the words have left me. I barely eke out a “Come in.” It’s pretty ironic that I’m about to ask her for help, when all I wanted before was for her to leave me alone.
“Ready, Nikki?” We make eye contact, but I quickly look away, steadying myself with a deep breath.
“Ms. Evans, I need your help.” I wrap my hands around my stomach— the words actually caused physical pain when I said them.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her speechless.
“It’s about the letter from my mom.” My eyes well up with tears. “I have an aunt,” I blurt out. “Her name is Claire Nichols. I need to find her. I really need to find her. Will you please help me?” I was up half the night searching the internet, there’s more than four thousand people with my aunt’s name. Ms. Evans could search records…maybe even hire an investigator.
She listens to me explain what I want her to do. “Nikki— ”
“Please, Ms. Evans, please. Don’t take me anywhere yet. Just try to find her first. Please. She’s my only family.”
I sense her mentally paging through her caseload, deciding if I’m worthy. “It may not be as easy to find her as you think.” She sighs and looks toward the ceiling. Eventually she reluctantly agrees. “You can’t stay here. I’ll have to talk to Ashley’s mom about keeping you a few more days. If she can’t”— the warning in her voice is clear— ”you’ll have to go to the foster family tonight.”
I don’t tell Ms. Evans about my sister. My sister. After Evans leaves, I say the words aloud to myself to see how it sounds. “My sister.” After seventeen years, how can someone have a sister?
***
I hate to cry. Telling Ash about Mom’s letter would most definitely open the floodgates. So instead, I just hand her the envelope and let her read the whole crazy story for herself. As she finishes reading, Ashley starts to cry. I can’t hold back my tears when I see hers. We hug, clinging to each other tightly.
It takes a little coaxing. Ashley actually begs her mom to let me st
ay with them for a little while longer. It’s not that her mom doesn’t like me, but she does dislike an extra body in their small trailer, five kids cramp things enough. But Ashley convinces her and she reluctantly calls Ms. Evans to tell her I can stay.
“Mother of the year said you have a week. Generous, huh?” Ashley says as we walk to get some of my clothes.
“At least she’s letting me stay.” I shrug.
“Well, if we run out of time, I guess we’ll just cut your hair into a mullet, glue on a scraggly mustache, and stuff a quarter keg beer belly into a red flannel. She’ll find room for you then. Hell, she’ll have the rest of her spawn calling you Uncle within a few days.
I laugh. Her depiction is a bit overly dramatic, but it’s not that far off. “What happened to Uncle Kenny?”
“You mean Uncle Joe. Uncle Kenny was last month.”
“That’s right, I forgot you got a new Uncle.”
“Don’t bother remembering, he went out for milk and never came back.” I look at Ashley in disbelief. “No, really. He literally went for milk. Mom gave him twenty bucks and he never came back.”
I shake my head. “She’s too nice.”
“Sure.” Ashley looks at me like I’m crazy. “We’ll go with that.”
“Honestly, I’m grateful she’s letting me stay. I wouldn’t last too long with anyone else.”
“What choice do you have?”
“I don’t know. I have a little money stashed away. I’m getting out of here, with or without Evans’ help.”
Chapter 6
Zack—
Long Beach, California
After Emily told me she was ready last weekend, I’d thought that maybe finally doing it would bring us closer together. But if this week is any indication of things to come, I’m starting to question if sleeping with Emily is even a good idea. Her usual bossiness has hit a new level of extreme this week. I secretly wonder if she thinks she can get away with anything now, because she holds the looming sex card over my head. She’s been treating me like a dog with a bone held just out of his reach. Only pretty soon this dog may bite her and go find a nicer owner. It would be pretty ironic if I wound up turning her down in the end, after the last year of practically begging.