The Lies About Truth(40)

“You’ll have a pretty sweet costume yourself.”

I’d showed it to him yesterday, and he’d approved. In preparation, I’d cut a pair of black sweatpants off below the knees and doctored a Goonies sweatshirt so Tennessee wouldn’t show. A dark do-rag covered Idaho, and two skull-and-crossbones tattoos were the finishing touch. Mom and I tested them out at home last week. The scar at my mouth nearly disappeared beneath the tattoo film. Too bad I couldn’t wear these every day.

All this . . . and I got a paintball mask. Game, set, match. I should be on top of the world, but I wrung my hands instead.

Crowds still made me nauseous.

“Stick with me,” Max said.

The problem with that suggestion was we didn’t have control over registration. “We’ll probably end up on different teams.”

“If we do, odds are you’ll end up with Gina or Gray,” he said. “They both know this is hard for you.”

Fear was such a thief. I loved the wildness of the game, the quickness of my heartbeat as I stalked across the island, the celebration of nailing a competitor. There was a barbaric nature to it—like living in The Hunger Games and knowing you’re a badass. And it was still hard to be here.

“What can I do?” Max asked.

I shoved into him and watched the smile I loved ripple across his face. “You’re doing it.”

“I used to avoid people. Remember?” he said.

I nodded. Neither of us cheapened our emotions by comparing them side by side. Neither was worse than the other. I might be too stupid to change quickly, but I wasn’t too stupid to understand.

“Sucks, eh?” I said.

“Yep,” he agreed.

Our eyes drifted out to the bay. We watched small waves slush from side to side, rocking against the shore like a fast metronome. March winds in June would make for a challenge during the game and a fun ride on the Jet Ski later. The Gulf could be a bitch on wheels. Maybe after Pirates and Paintball, we’d ride out of the bay and toward the horizon.

After mentioning the possibility to Max, he gave me a half-cocked grin. The grin of someone who knew something I didn’t know. “Sounds perfect,” he said.

“What are you hiding, Max McCall?”

He toed the ground, shoved his hands into his pockets, and put on a pleased-as-punch grin. “I’ll tell you after the game.”

“Bad?” I asked automatically.

“It’ll push you a little. Like a tank top or Pirates and Paintball. But not bad.”

Worry dug a ditch in my chest. That sounded like a From a friend who cares statement.

Rather than spend the whole day wondering, I found a question to ask that wouldn’t give anything away. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Big, does it?”

“Nope, why?” he said quickly.

Maybe too quickly.

“No reason.”

“I didn’t mean to get you all worked up. You want me to just tell you now?” he asked.

“No.” If it wasn’t about Big, I wanted something to anticipate. And if it was about Big, I wanted to keep the fantasy of us a little longer. “Keep your secret, Max McCall.”

“I plan to,” he said with a wink.

For the rest of the morning, he gave away nothing but a few dozen smiles.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


Some Emails to Max in El Salvador From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: March 14

Subject: my list

What do I want?

I want . . . so many things.

I’d like to drive a car again.

I’d like to live one day without thinking about my scars.

I’d like to walk the graduation line.

Maybe kiss someone without flinching.

See the Fountain of Youth.

Fletcher had me make an actual list. He asked me to pick a number. I picked seven, because I always pick seven. Then, he told me to write down seven things I wanted. Seven things I thought were impossible. It wasn’t hard. I could have listed a dozen, maybe more.

The funny thing is . . . if I’d made a list before the wreck, none of these things would have been on there. In fact, my list would have had things like: Learn Spanish.

Go skydiving.

Visit the Great Wall of China.

I had all these pie-in-the-sky dreams, and now I have reality. I guess that’s life for you.

What would be on your list?

Love,

Sadie

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: March 20

Subject: your list

Max,

That’s a good list.

Here are my thoughts: 1. If you ever do get that tattoo, I want to go with you.

2. I’ve done that. Two tips: make sure you enter the water completely straight, and follow the bubbles to the top.

3. Ha, ha.

4. I think LOTR was filmed in New Zealand. That’s the closest Shire there is.

5.–6. Star Time can be anywhere.

7. Gross. You’re such a boy sometimes.

Love,

Sadie

P.S. I saw Gray sitting on the curb across the street from my house this morning. That sounds creepy, but it wasn’t. It looked like he was crying, which made me tear up too. Seeing him so vulnerable made me realize I don’t have feelings for him anymore. And I think that has more to do with you than it does to do with him.