He Started It(13)

Sometimes it feels terrible to think about life without Felix. It’s wrong, and I know that.

It also felt wrong to cheat on him.

Even worse, I knew it would and did it anyway.

But that’s the thing about being handed a small fortune: You start to rethink everything. Money gives you options, and the more options you have, the freer you feel.

“We have to keep going,” I say to Eddie. “We don’t have a choice.”

He nods and starts to walk away, but I have one more question. “Did you tell Krista about our parents?”

“I told her they’re both dead,” he says.

Good. I told Felix the same thing.





AUGUST 14, 1999



What’s your ideal day?

No school, that’s the first thing. The second would be a text or even a call from Cooper, but that may be asking too much. Depends on his mood, because he can be a real asshole. That’s why we aren’t together right now.

I’d spend the day out of the house, away from my family. I’d rather be with my best friends, Meghan and Sara, maybe out at Crater Lake, as long as it’s not too humid and the mosquitos aren’t out yet, because who wants those ugly bites all over their legs? Not me.

We’d spend the day swimming and gossiping and then go back to Meghan’s, because she’s rich and her house is so big her parents barely know when I’m over there. We’d do our makeup and then go down to the mall and buy some new clothes. Well, Meghan would buy hers because she can. I’d steal mine because I can.

I wouldn’t go home until dinner. That’s when I’d find out Cooper did call because he realized—finally—that we’re obviously meant to be together forever. But I wouldn’t call him back right away. I’d make him wait.

Dinner would be my favorite, chicken parmesan, and I wouldn’t even scrape the cheese off the top. I’d eat it all, plus dessert, even if it meant not eating for a week.

Mom and Dad wouldn’t fight at all. They wouldn’t even give each other dirty looks. We’d all have a great time and after dinner we’d play Risk. Of course I’d win, because this is MY ideal day and not someone else’s.

Oh, and Grandma would be there. I miss her so much. Maybe I’d even let her win Risk.





12 DAYS LEFT


If you’ve ever been on a long road trip, you know how it goes. On the first day, everyone is excited to get going, happy about leaving their everyday life behind. Everyone is nice to one another, even family members. That excitement flows into the second day. Not as intense, but still there.

The third day, fatigue sets in. There’s a happiness hangover from the first day, plus the realization that you’re stuck with these people for a while. You’re too tired to pretend anymore, so you become who you really are because you can only hide it for so long.

Even Krista.

You know her. She’s the one who’s happy to organize the office Christmas party, the one who circulates the get-well cards for signatures, and when homemade goodies show up in the break room, you know she brought them because she does it once a week.

In Arkansas, we meet the other Krista. The one who is late to breakfast and looks like she’s only slept for an hour. No makeup, under-eye circles darker than her eyebrows, and her sleek hair now looks dull, like she used a dry shampoo.

She plops down next to Eddie, who has already ordered the Southern special and is piling butter on top of his grits. Krista snarls at his food. Literally. Snarls. “I guess you don’t plan on living long enough to see your kids graduate from high school,” she says.

I freeze. My fork hangs in midair, and Portia’s stops cutting the crust off her bread. Not sure what to think about the bomb Krista just threw on the table. Eddie doesn’t have kids. He’s smart enough to not point that out.

“I don’t think a few weeks of bad food will kill me,” Eddie says.

“Maybe tonight we can eat at a healthier place,” Felix says.

“I’m in,” Portia says. “Thank God.”

Krista lifts her hands, waving at the waitress until the woman comes over. She’s in her forties and has the varicose veins of someone who has worked on her feet for a while.

“Fruit,” Krista says. “Whatever you have that looks good, I don’t care what kind. One slice of wheat toast, no butter.”

The woman nods. Waits. “Anything else?”

Krista glances at our coffee cups. Plain coffee, nothing fancy at this place. “Coffee. I guess.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says to the waitress. He adds a wink.

The waitress smiles at him as she walks away. Krista goes back to her snarling.

I try to remember what we were talking about before Krista walked in. Something about where we’re headed next.

“So,” I say. “Oklahoma.”

Eddie nods and starts to speak. Krista doesn’t let him. “We’re not going to see another Bonnie and Clyde thing, right?”

“I told you we weren’t,” Eddie says.

“But sometimes you lie.”

Boom.

Bomb number two releases a lot more information, and it tells me Krista is not just tired from a lack of sleep and bad food. Eddie has been an asshole again.

“The first stop is actually the Three Corners, so we’re sort of going into Missouri first,” I say.