Falling into Place(53)

So sometime between shampooing and conditioning, she stopped being stupid and started falling in love.

It was kind of amazing, that there was something inside her, alive, breathing in and out—metaphorically, of course—and growing with each moment. It was very precious to her, suddenly, life. She had never valued it as much as she did then.

She wanted to keep the baby.

Kennie had always loved babies.

She had never taken care of anything before. Her parents were the definition of overprotective, and where they did not interfere, her brother did. Kennie had grown up so safe and sheltered and spoiled that she had learned little during her life except how to lie—a necessary skill if she wanted to have the barest semblance of privacy. In her heart, Kennie was younger than Liz or Julia, and she didn’t like it.

In the shower that night, Kennie cried harder than she had ever cried before. She cried until the shower was icy rain all around her, because she wanted impossible things.


After her mother pounded on the bathroom door, demanding what was taking so long, Kennie came out, got dressed, and stayed up all night.

She sat in the darkness and tried to sort out her options. She put her hands on her stomach and hugged the growing life inside her, and tried to find a path wide enough for both of them.

She had $639.34 left in her savings account from her summer job at McCrap’s. That might cover a month in one of those really disgusting apartments by the highway. Of course, her parents had guardianship over her bank account, and they’d probably lock her out of it.

She could call her brother, but he was halfway across the country now, and it didn’t seem likely that he would help her. Never mind how many babies his girlfriends had probably aborted—he would side with their parents.

Maybe she could stay with Liz or Julia. But she’d still be in Meridian and people would still find out. Of course, she wouldn’t even have to stay with Liz or Julia unless her parents kicked her out, and her parents wouldn’t kick her out unless they knew she was pregnant, and if they found out, they’d tell the entire town anyway. She was going in circles.

Around three o’clock, she ran out of tears and decided to stop thinking about what to do.

Instead she thought about the baby.

My baby, she thought.

She didn’t care about the gender. An hour later, she had names picked out for both, perfect names. She wanted to buy baby clothes. She wanted a car seat. She wanted a future that she could build all by herself.

But when she curled up beneath the covers and listened to her breath bouncing off her blankets, she began crying again because she knew she couldn’t do it, not really, not ever.

She couldn’t.



CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX


Thirteen Minutes Before Liz Emerson Crashed Her Car


Liz fumbled to get her phone out of her back pocket. The car swerved a bit, and her breath caught. A strange thing rose in her chest; she didn’t know if it was fear or anticipation, but then it burst and she was hollow again.

She unlocked her phone and opened Facebook, and scrolled through her pictures until she found the one she was searching for. It was from the summer before eighth grade, and the three of them stood with the state fair in the background. Julia was wearing a pair of sunglasses she had just bought from the vendor behind them, and Kennie was holding a dish of deep-fried pickles.

That was the last time they ever went to the fair, though Kennie brought the pickles up on a regular basis as a not-so-subtle hint. The appeal of carnival games and rides beneath an open sky had disappeared.

In the picture, Julia was still beautiful and brilliant and fully alive. Clear too, without the poison leaking out at the edges. And Kennie. She was laughing, of course, laughing like she used to—so loudly that an echo reached Liz through all the years and secrets and mistakes. God, how long had it been since she had heard Kennie laugh like that?

This was the before picture, and it broke Liz’s heart.

Liz stared at her phone. She wanted to go back. She wanted to be a little girl again, the one who thought getting high meant being pushed on the swings and pain was falling off her bike.

I want to go back.

I wanted her to come back too.



CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN


The Abortion Clinic


Silence in the Mercedes.

And then.

“Want me to go with you?” asked Liz.

Kennie bit her lip. Her eyes were closed, but Liz could see her eyelashes glimmering with the tears she was trying so hard to hold back. Kennie wasn’t wearing any makeup. Liz couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Kennie without makeup.