The Best Possible Answer(40)

My dad’s phone.

It lights up and buzzes.

Someone’s texting him in the middle of the night.

I reach for it.

Fortunately, my dad doesn’t have a pass code on his phone. For someone who likes to lie so much, he really should.

I slide the phone open and open his messages. There it is. A message from Paige. More Than Anything Paige.

Can’t sleep. Too excited to see you tomorrow. 6:00 P.M., right?

And then a second text:

The kids can’t wait, either. All day they kept asking if Daddy will bring them toys, but I know they really just want YOU here.

And then a third:

You’ve been gone too long these past few months. We need to talk. I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s hard. I will go back to work if it means you finally coming home for good.

And finally:

Please let’s talk? I know you’re awake. Your secretary said you were on your way to the airport. Talk to me, Benjamin.

She thinks he’s in Singapore.

She thinks he’s her husband.

She thinks he’s the father of her kids.

She doesn’t know about us.

The toaster dings and snaps me out of my shock, but not soon enough. The bread is completely burned and the kitchen stinks.

I shut off his phone and run to my room.

I text Sammie.

Please can I come over? My life is falling apart.

I press SEND, but I don’t wait for her response.

I throw on my gym shoes, grab my mom’s keys, and run out of the apartment.

*

My phone vibrates.

Of course.

It’s Sammie. I never should have texted her. I should throw my phone off this roof.

A few minutes later: Where are you?

Where am I?

I am thirty-eight stories into the sky. There are stars here. I am on my back, falling into this hard, damp floor. I close my eyes, and the words are there in the dark of my lids. I am spinning below them.

My mom just got home, but she’s asleep. Come upstairs.

There is a hot wind. There is the weight of rain, not yet here. A heavy pressure of water coming.

I’m at the door. I’m waiting for you.

The words of this other woman. The real truth of her life. Of his life. The words are there in the dark of my lids.

I’m here. Where are you?

Breathe, Viviana. Breathe yourself out. Breathe yourself out of this spinning place.

The words are still there when I open my eyes.

You matter.

More than anything.

All of it: lies.

*

Sammie finds me. I don’t know how she does it again, how she knows, but she finds me on the roof, and she leads me back to her place, where she tucks me into her bed. She brings me water and feeds me cookies and sits with me until I’m ready to talk.

“What’s going on?”

I shake my head. I’m not ready.

“Do you want to cry?”

“No.”

“Do you want another cookie?”

“No.”

“Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

“Okay.”

She plays with her phone while I stare out the window. It’s my birthday today. I’m seventeen. One more year until I’m eighteen. One more long year before I can leave this terrible place and get away from my selfish, irresponsible parents.

“Did you hear about Professor Cox?”

“No.”

“Evan didn’t tell you?”

I bristle at his name. I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want to talk about anything. “He tried,” I mutter. “But I didn’t let him.”

“Oh.”

I roll over and look at her. “I’m not going to do that to you anymore.”

Sammie puts down her phone and shrugs. “I’m over it. I’m over him.”

“What?”

“I can’t force someone to like me,” she says. “And I don’t want to get in the way of someone liking you.”

“Come on, Sammie. I’m not choosing a guy over you.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m glad to hear it. But I want you to know—seriously—I’m really, really over him. If you decide you want to go for Evan again, he’s all yours.”

“You’re way too good to me.”

She sits back against the headboard. “Is that why your life is falling apart? Because of Evan?”

“Not at all.”

“Do you want to tell me why your life is falling apart yet?”

“No,” I say. “But you can tell me about your life. I’d rather hear about you.”

“You mean how my mom discovered my Instagram account and how she totally freaked out and made me delete it?”

“Oh, Sammie, no.”

“Yeah, no.” Her eyes fill up with tears. “I’m not telling you that fun story.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“She thinks you’re going to put up nudie pics like me.”

Sammie wipes her eyes and laughs. “Nudie pics?” Then she shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. That’s not even the half of it.”