The Best Possible Answer(34)

“This doesn’t prove or disprove anything, really,” I say.

Sammie heads toward the balcony. “Maybe it’s something in his paintings. I’ll check out here.”

“I’ll check the bathroom,” I say.

“Good idea,” Evan says. The dog barks, and Evan picks him up. “Come on, boy.”

I did not mean for him to follow me, but it’s done. I walk into the bathroom, Evan behind me, that silly dog panting in his arms.

Evan closes the door partway and puts the dog down. I open the cabinet door and find it near empty, a toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, and Tylenol. “Nothing here,” I say.

Evan puts his hand on my shoulder, and I turn toward him. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers this. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

I want to say no. First of all, Sammie’s in the other room. Plus, this is all so weird and complicated, standing in some man’s apartment, searching for something—I don’t even know what.

But then I don’t say no. I don’t say anything. Instead, I stand there, silent and still. And I lean up to him. And we kiss.

Again.

“Viviana!” It’s Sammie, calling from the other room. “Viviana, I think—I think you need to come here.”

“Oh, no.” I step back away from him.

“What’s wrong?”

Sammie calls out to me again. “Vivi, quick!”

“I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “I can’t do this.”

I leave Evan in the bathroom and I want to run out of the apartment, but Sammie’s calling for me to come to the window.

“What’s going on?”

“Vivi, it’s—” She points outside. “It’s your dad.”

“What are you talking about? My dad’s in Singapore.”

Sammie shakes her head. “He’s right there. On your balcony.”

I look up out the window toward my apartment, and she’s right. It is my dad. Not in Singapore. He’s here. He’s home.

Why is he home?

I head toward the balcony. I’m too excited. I’m not sure if he’ll be able to hear me, but I’ll call for him. Maybe he’s going to surprise us.

As I step out on the balcony, I’m hit by a warm gust of air—it’s early morning, but it’s warming up already. I can’t help but think that my dad should change out of his suit, that he’s going to be too hot today.

I’m about to call out to him, but he’s on the phone.

His words float down to me before I can call out to him.

“No, honey … I’m sorry.… I love you, too.… Yes, Paige, I told you I’d be home this week, but they need me here longer.… When I get back, I’ll take you out.… I promise.… Paige, listen—”

Paige? Who’s Paige?

“Yes, a special date, just you and me … like we used to.… Yes, in the beginning.”

Who is he talking to?

“Yes, Paige, I love you, too.… I always have.… Yes, more than anything. More than ever.”

Oh my God. What is happening?

The words register, one by one.

The truth swells over me.

The truth about why he’s leaving. Or rather, why he left. Why he disappeared and my mom’s back in school and why no one’s explained anything about anything.

The city sways below me. I could fall into it, into the reality that is my life.

“Vivi? Are you okay?” Sammie’s leaning out the door.

I look at her and shake my head.

“What’s going on?”

“I can’t be out here right now.”

“Okay.” She reaches her hand out to me, and I take it.

I step inside, into her arms.

But then I pull back.

“I kissed Evan,” I say. “And he kissed me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sammie.”

“Wait … what? What are you talking about? When did you kiss Evan?”

“Yesterday. At the pool. After you left.”

“Before I told you I was over him?”

I nod. “And again. Just now in the bathroom. Oh God—” I feel like I need to sit down. I reach out to her, but she pulls away. “Sammie, I’m so very sorry. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

I say this, but it’s too late. Her face changes. She sees me now for what I am. Whereas a minute ago she was my only friend, I can see that, here, now that I see the truth of what I am and where I came from, I am nothing but her ultimate pain and betrayal.

Just like my dad.

“Nice,” she says. “Real nice. You know how much I like him. I thought I could trust you.”

“You can, Sammie. You can—”

But then she turns away from me and starts running toward the door. She’s stopped by Evan, who emerges from the bathroom, two pill bottles in each hand.

“I think I found it,” he says. “I think I found what he doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“I could really care less,” she says. And then she runs past him, out the door. Behind her, Professor Cox’s dog barks at her ankles and then moans when the door slams.

Evan looks at me, confused. “What was that about?”