“It was once, and I got caught and my coach had a fit and threatened to kick me off the team. And I broke up with the girl. And right after that I asked out your mom.”
“Well. At least you pulled from your dark past to help another person,” I tell him.
He narrows his eyes at me but chuckles as Aunt Allie wipes away a tear. Behind us the phone rings. Dad is closest to it and picks up.
“Hi,” Dad says and turns his back to us. Aunt Allie glances at me, and I lift my shoulder. She walks to the fridge and pulls out a jug of cranberry juice.
Dad spins around to face us. “No. It’s okay, Rose. I can talk. Sam is good. We just got news actually. It wasn’t her fault. The boy had an asthma attack. That’s what he died from. Not the peanut butter Sam ate.”
Aunt Allie and I stare at him, not even pretending not to eavesdrop. He grins at both of us and points at the phone and mouths. “Rose.” And then he puts his mouth back on the receiver. “I think we should make new plans. You can stay with us. You can meet my sister. She’s going to be in Tadita for a while.”
And then he takes the phone and leaves the kitchen for more privacy.
Aunt Allie shakes her head. But she’s smiling. She pours juice into the three glasses on the counter.
Later, I go to my room and sit cross-legged on the bed. I stare at the blank television screen on my wall, remembering the coverage, the glimpses into Alex’s life.
I don’t turn the TV on. The results from the autopsy won’t be on the news yet, but soon.
It’s funny, but now it seems almost too bad that it will come out that peanut butter isn’t what killed Alex. The debate and increased awareness about deadly food allergies wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe somewhere, some little kid is safer because of my role in the tragedy.
Of course, it’s easier to be more generous with my reputation now. Because the burden of guilt has been lifted off me. Maybe it was just meant to be.
Aunt Allie always says that things happen for a reason. Maybe I was meant to help get people thinking about the seriousness of anaphylactic allergies.
I stare at the blank TV, trying to remember Alex, but I never really knew him.
I grab my laptop and turn it on. And I begin to write.
Dear Alex…
chapter twenty-six
Aunt Allie stands in the kitchen, wearing an apron and sticking a pan of something in the oven when I emerge from my room.
“Lemon loaf,” she says. “Your dad went off to meet his girlfriend from Orlie.”
“He’s driving to Orlie now? It’s like a three-hour drive.”
“No. Apparently Rose was already on her way. She’s staying at a hotel tonight because of a reservation she can’t cancel. But he’s going to bring her here.” She reaches behind her and undoes the strings of the apron.
I stare at her and blink. “But we only have one guest room. And you’re in it.”
“Suck it up, princess,” Aunt Allie says and punches numbers into the stove timer. “He’s a fully grown man.”
“Oh God,” I say. “Maybe I liked it better when he hid stuff from us.”
She puts an arm around me and takes off the apron and folds it. “You want to do an angel reading while he’s gone?”
I gasp. “How’d you know?”
“How’d I know what?” She opens a drawer and slides the apron inside.
“That I wrote a letter to Alex?”
She closes the drawer and puts her hand on her hip. “Actually, I didn’t know. But it’s amazing, isn’t it? I had a feeling you were ready. Things do happen—”
“For a reason,” I finish for her.
She hurries downstairs to get her angel cards, and when she returns we sit at the kitchen table and she hands me the deck. “Shuffle them and put them into three piles when it feels right.”
I do as she tells me. “Now stack them together.”
When I’m done, she takes them from me and flips over the top ones.
“Interesting,” she says when she glances at a card with two cherub-looking people. “I always believed you would find your soul mate in this life. Not many do.”
I peer at the other cards, wondering what they all mean. She glances behind her and smiles.
“Alex is with us.” She tilts her head as if she’s listening. “The angels say he’s smiling. He’s pretending to do something.” She smiles. “Revving a toy car?”
My mouth opens.
“The angels say your mom has been watching over you too.” She tilts her head. “They say that she sent you a sign. That she’s with you. And that she’ll let you know when it’s time for her to go.”
I reach for my necklace, and it warms my fingers. “Why would she have to go?”
Aunt Allie waits for a moment. “To let you live your life. The angels will stay with you. Keep talking to them,” she says. “They hear you. They can only reveal what you’re ready for. But they’re listening. And watching.”
I smile. It’s nice to know.
I’m glad we finally got to chat formally.
chapter twenty-seven
The next morning while I’m in bed reading, Aunt Allie calls from the living room.
“Chloe is here,” she says.
I jump out of bed and hurry to the living room without bothering to fix myself up. Chloe is standing in front of the fireplace with her head down. She looks tiny and fragile, with a huge scarf snaked around her neck, almost hiding her head. A long sweater swallows up most of her upper body, and her thin legs stick out under it.
“Hey,” I say, and she looks up. Aunt Allie disappears into the basement.
“Did I wake you?”
“No. I was reading.”
“Your aunt is so cool,” she says. “She’s so good about what happened with Fredrick.”
“She is,” I agree. We both stare at the doorway she vanished through.
“I owe you an apology,” Chloe blurts out.
I shake my head. “No. You don’t.”
Her lips quiver, and instinctively I move forward, wrap an arm around her, and squeeze.
“The report’s out this morning. It’ll be all over the news soon. What really happened. That it was an asthma attack. Not the kiss.”
I nod and lead her to the couch.
“Can I get you something? Mint tea?”
She shakes her head no. “People are going to find out he smoked pot that night. He’d hate that. He was a good guy, Sam. What he did doesn’t change who he was. He was a good guy.”
“I know he was,” I tell her. I sit close to her.
She picks up one of the decorative pillows Aunt Allie bought for us. It matches the couches. “He told me he was having trouble breathing.” She stares off into space. She blinks hard and swallows. “I was going to go check on him. But…” She bends her head. “Instead of going to see him or going to pick up his meds, I was busy. With Casper.”
I remember seeing her and Casper wander off together that night. Before Zee took me outside. It’s all so sad. So many things, so many tiny changes might have saved him.
“Alex had just found out about Casper and me. He didn’t approve.” She’s crushing the stuffing in the pillow. Twisting it with both hands.
I swallow my anger at Casper. For Chloe. For pretending to like me. Her. For using us. Even if deep down, maybe, just maybe, I know I was using him too.
“Zee was driving himself crazy about you,” she tells me. “He’s not as confident as he seems, you know. He was going to ask you out, and then everything got so messed up that night.”
“I thought you and Zee were together,” I tell her.
She lets her death grip on the pillow go, frowns down at it, and then fluffs it up. “Me and Zee? Gross. Why would you think that?”
“Kaitlin told me.”
She sticks out her tongue and makes a raspberry sound. “Kaitlin is a bitch. She’s been in love with Zee forever.” She glances at me and sniffles. “I know he used to hook up with her. But it wasn’t serious on his part. And then you joined the swim team. He knew who you were of course, from meets. He broke it off with Kaitlin, but she never gave up. She thinks she’s better than everyone else because of her looks and money. What she never got was that Zee doesn’t care about stuff like that. He’s a jerk for hooking up with her in the first place. He’s a guy, I guess. And she was offering. He made mistakes too. But he’s over her.”
Fredrick comes running into the room then and cough-barks when he sees Chloe. “Oh. Fredrick.” She puts the pillow down and bends toward him. “There you are. You did come to see me. You’re all right, little fellow?” She pats him, and his little tail waggles at her and he demands to be lifted. “Did you forgive me, little guy? Oh, thank you. You’re so handsome.”
She moves her mouth away from Fredrick’s tongue attack but rubs noses with him. “When I had that accident with him, I was going to see Casper. After we had coffee. He called me. I think it was someone’s way of telling me not to go. I haven’t been with him since.”
I close my eyes. It’s such a tangled web.
Fredrick settles down and sits on her lap with his ears pointed up as if he’s joined our conversation.
“Oh my God,” she says. “You probably haven’t heard. It turns out Theresa is pregnant. By Casper.”
“Oh my God. His sister?” I shout.
“Ew,” she says, running her hand softly over Fredrick’s back. “Theresa’s not his sister. They’re not related. She’s his dad’s wife’s step-daughter. Theresa’s dad died and her mom took off with some guy to Europe. Theresa is close with Casper’s stepmom, so she went to stay with the Coopers. Moved in.”
“Well, thank God. But pregnant?” I ask. “He was with three girls? How is that even possible?” I reach over and scratch Fredrick behind the ears. “I thought he was a nice guy.”
“You know what? I think in Casper’s mind, he is a nice guy.”
“Why the hell was he sleeping with Theresa?” I ask.
We make an identical face, and Fredrick snorts.
“She brought us muffins once,” I say. “When Casper and I were studying.”
We stare at each other and then start to laugh. And just as quickly Chloe’s laughter fades. “Alex would be furious with him. God, I miss him,” she says.
I take a breath. “I know.”
Neither one of us talks for a second. Thinking. I take a deep breath. “I’ve been working with NAAN. It might help…if you joined me.”
“Alex didn’t die from his peanut allergy,” she says.
“No. But he could have. It easily could have been. And there’s maybe a reason why it happened the way it did. You know? We can always work with the asthma society too. They go together so often, allergies and asthma. We could coordinate talks at schools.”
Chloe strokes Fredrick a little too hard, and he growls at her.
“Sorry, Fredrick,” she says. I laugh.
“I saw your mom on TV. Talking about how scary it was to send Alex into a world that thought convenience was more important than his safety.”
Chloe nods slowly and pats Fredrick lightly.
“I’ve got a website started. We can help make kids around here a little safer. I saw a study online that estimated about a hundred and fifty to two hundred people a year die from food allergies.”
Fredrick stands and jumps off Chloe’s lap. He gives both of us a look of disgust, and I pick him up and put him on the floor so he doesn’t have to jump on his leg.
“You’ve been doing all this for Alex?” Chloe asks.
I lift my shoulder.
“But you don’t have to feel guilty anymore,” she says. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It doesn’t matter. Anyhow. I’m thinking T-shirts. Posters. Lots of kids will want to get involved. For Alex.”
“But it’s not the way he died.”
“No. But we can help him be remembered for the way he lived.”
Chloe smiles at me. Her eyes shine. “I should go. My mom wants me home.” She stands up. “Thank you. For giving me something to look forward to. And my mom. She’ll love this.”
I stand too. “I wish I could have known him better.”
“You will,” she says. “I’ll help you.”
I walk her to the door. When she’s gone, I think of my own mom and reach for my necklace. My fingers grasp at air.
It’s gone.
chapter twenty-eight
Aunt Allie drops everything and we crawl around every inch of the house on our hands and knees, searching. We comb my room and everywhere I’ve been. I know for sure I had the necklace on when I went to bed. It never left the house. But as hard as we look, the necklace doesn’t show up.
“It’s a mystery,” Aunt Allie says as she cuts me a thick slice of lemon loaf. “Or maybe it’s a sign.” She hands me the slice. “Eat up. You need the carbs.”
There’s a ruckus in the hallway, and we look over as Dad walks in. He’s holding Rose by the arm, and the smile on his face could warm an Olympic pool.
“Allie,” he calls. “Come here. I’d like you to meet someone.”
“Sam,” he says. “Rose is back.”
***
Everyone is on deck, gathered around Clair and the whiteboard. Justin is on my right, and I see his attention shift to something behind us. He grins and then wolf whistles loudly, and we all follow his gaze, including Clair.
A collective group of mouths drop open.
Taylor struts down the pool deck toward us. Not the peppy bouncing steps we’re used to from her. She’s morphed into a fashion model, and the swim deck is her runway. She flicks her head to the side. Her hair. It’s gone. Well. Not gone. Short. Pixie-cut short. Shorter than mine. Despite that, her swagger makes me feel like a little boy.
She looks frigging amazing.
“What?” she says. “I got a haircut. It worked for Sammy.”
“I like it,” Clair says, and then she turns back to the white board and finishes outlining the drill.
Taylor sneaks up beside me and leans in close. “Screw my mom. I got tired of being the girl with the long blond hair. I want to be known as a swimmer.”
“It’s hot.”
“See how hot I look when I’m passing you in the water.” She winks and lifts her hand for a high five, and I smack her hand hard as she smiles. I smile back.
Zee slides up on the other side of me. I try not to stare at his washboard stomach or make it obvious that I’m getting high on the intoxicating smell that is him. “Is Sergeant picking you up after practice?” he whispers.
“No, I drove.” I glance sideways, and my heart swirls when I look in his eyes.
“Can you take me for a drive? Before you go home?”
I nod. Anywhere, I think. But I don’t say that out loud.
***
We don’t speak much as we walk side by side to the car. The night air has frozen the spiky ends of my short hair. I glance over and see ice forming on the ends of his. “You mind if I drive?” he asks.
I shrug and hand him the keys. He pops the doors open and waits while I get inside, then climbs in. “Sarge won’t mind?”
“What my dad doesn’t know doesn’t always hurt him.”
“I want to take you somewhere, but my parents rarely let me use their car.” He starts up the car. “Don’t worry. I drive better than I Parkour.” He turns down the radio and cranks up the heat.
He tilts his head and glances at me. “I want to say sorry. For what happened. With Kaitlin. With you getting blamed. And my anger.�
� He sighs. “I wish I could take it all back.”
“Not as much as I do,” I say as I toss my swim bag in the back.
“But you didn’t cause anything.” He throws his bag on top of mine and reaches over and pats the top of my hand. “I think I know why you kissed Alex. Because of me.” His fingers warm my skin, and a flush spreads through my whole body. “Does that sound jerky?” He takes his hand away and backs the car from the parking spot.
I stare out the front window at the dark parking lot and then the street. He turns away from the main turnoff that leads back to the city and heads toward the highway.
“That night. You and him.” He sighs. “I was being a jerk, and Alex knew it. He moved in. I can’t really blame him. Stupid drinking.”
I glance out my passenger window. Early Christmas lights glisten on some of the houses scattered throughout the fields. I’ve never been drunk. And I certainly don’t know how it’s possible that two guys were interested in me.
“We were competitive about lots of things, but never girls. You’re the first girl both of us were interested in. But I called dibs.” He groans. “Now I really do sound like an asshole. But I meant, I kind of thought you were interested in me too. But I couldn’t tell. Not for sure. You’re a hard girl to read.”
I’m glad of the early darkness so he can’t see my cheeks redden.
I watch headlights on the other side of the road. Coming toward us like alien eyes. They light up the inside of the car and then disappear.
“I started doing Parkour the right way.” I glance over and he smiles. His teeth kind of glow in the dark. “Well except for a few screw-ups. The true lifestyle, Parkour, it’s supposed to be about a guy not looking out for himself, but a guy who looks out for other people too.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It may seem like it’s guys doing crazy jumps or risky tricks, but that’s all preparation. It’s about moving. Efficiently. Quickly. And when you look deeper, you learn it’s about developing strength and skill. Training to help other people. It’s supposed to be a way of living. Choosing health. Safety. And the body is tested, and it needs to be taken care of. The mind. For other people. It takes discipline. If I’d been doing things right, I would have taken care of Alex that night. I would have gotten his meds. I wouldn’t have been drinking. Fooling around. I’m learning more now so I can give something back. I’m not perfect, but I’m working at getting better.”
Who I Kissed Page 23