Put Me Back Together(87)

“Okay,” I managed to say.

“Are you all right?” she said.

Lucas was sitting with his hands folded, his eyes riveted on me. “I will be,” I said, and then I continued, shocking even myself, “and I’m going to tell you everything. I promise.”

“Good,” Emily said before hanging up.

I slunk back to my chair and nibbled at my food half-heartedly as Lucas rubbed my back. “Be strong,” he said.

I guessed I was going to have to be.

An hour later I was in no mood to accompany Lucas to his exam, not after the calamity of that conversation with Em, but Lucas insisted. Even an offer to stay over at Mariella’s place wouldn’t sway him.

“If I could I’d take you into the exam room with me and make you sit right in front of me. That way you’d be in my line of sight at all times,” Lucas said as we walked through the windy evening toward campus, sauntering at Lucas’s usual pace. Apparently not even a final exam could make Lucas hurry up.

“I know what you’re after, Matthews,” I teased. “You’re only saying that because the top I’m wearing is kind of see-through.” It really was. I pulled the zipper on my jacket higher just in case.

“It’s what he’s after that I’m worried about,” he replied, his manner tense. I squeezed his hand. For the first time it occurred to me to wonder how he was dealing with the atomic bomb I’d dropped on him when I’d told him the truth. The thought of Lucas losing himself to the paranoia I often fell prey to made my stomach twist into knots. I didn’t want that for him. Nobody deserved that.

Not even me.

By a stroke of luck, Lucas’s exam had been moved to the fine arts building because of a water leak in Watson Hall. As part of their final grade, the fourth year art students had to turn all of Ontario Hall into a gallery with their own art on the walls, and I was eager to see the paintings of the advanced students. Walking down the hall toward the classroom we passed lots of students from our painting class, many of who knew us both by name, but for once Lucas and I weren’t the center of attention. We barely even merited a glance. Their eyes were glued to the art on the walls as they stood in clumps, evaluating aloud like it was crit day, debating which drawing or painting had the most merit. I couldn’t help but feel glad none of my work was on display. It wasn’t that I didn’t think my paintings would measure up. But I did feel my paintings that year had closed me in, locking me to the past, and I knew I wanted to tackle new subjects now, paint new things. I was ready to look ahead.

The crowded hallway seemed to reassure Lucas as we reached the door to his exam room. I knew he thought I couldn’t be in danger when I was surrounded by people. Of course, he wasn’t the girl who’d found a note threatening her boyfriend’s life in the middle of a busy coffee shop. But I didn’t point that out right then.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Lucas said, pressing a kiss to my lips that started out soft, but deepened as the moments passed. The hallway faded to nothing around us as his arms pulled me closer, his hands roaming dangerously close to my ass.

“I think you’re getting a little bit off topic,” I said, struggling out of his arms. The students filing into the exam room were either smirking or giving us dirty looks. We were sort of blocking the door.

“Can you blame me?” Lucas murmured. He tried to kiss me again, but I pushed him toward the door.

“Go!” I said. “Exam now. Kisses later.” I would have said something a lot dirtier than “kisses,” but there was a hallway full of people listening. But Lucas apparently had no such qualms.

“Oh, I plan to do a lot more than kiss you later, trust me,” Lucas said, giving me a smoldering look before flashing his dimples and strolling into the classroom, leaving me blushing with desire and embarrassment.


After that, I did get some attention, or as much as a group of preoccupied art nerds could muster. Naomi called me over to examine a black and white photograph of a crowded restaurant. For a short minute everyone wanted my opinion, as if by virtue of being Lucas’s girlfriend my thoughts held more weight, but when they found my take on the photo’s composition differed from theirs they quickly turned on me and my moment of notoriety was over.

As I wandered away from the fray, my mind drifted back to my call with Emily and I felt the weight of what was coming. Telling my family the truth would be even harder than telling Lucas, not because they were more important to me, but because they were there. They got the call that I was in the hospital and ran to my bedside. They shielded me from the reporters and stood by me through the trial. They were the ones I’d tested my lies on first.

Staring at a charcoal drawing of a swing set in a back garden, I felt myself growing angry, and for once my anger wasn’t aimed at myself. I was angry at the lies themselves and all the chaos they’d caused. I was angry that I’d wasted so much time hating myself. I was angry that now I had to face the prospect of hurting my family again. If Lucas was right and what happened really wasn’t my fault, then the only person to blame was the same one I was hiding from. And I was angry about that, too. I was furious with Brandon Tomko for the mess he’d made of all our lives: mine, Tommy’s, the Wesleys’, his parents’, my parents’, Emily’s, the whole country’s.

The door to the art studio at the very end of the hall stood open. Wandering inside, I found my final painting sitting on the easel where I’d left it. In the painting I held Tommy by the hand and the train tracks ran beneath our feet. Tommy was smiling. It was a painting of what might have been, or almost. But there was still that sky above us, filled with threatening clouds to the east, and the figure lurking behind, dressed in black, waiting for just the right moment to spring.