Two Truths and a Lie(59)

“That’s right,” Cam said. “You didn’t think. And that’s the problem with this whole situation.” There was something so teacherly about the way he said this, so fatherly and judgmental, that the flame of anger in Alexa burned higher, licking at her, activating the very meanest parts of her.

“Forget this,” she said. “I don’t care anymore. I’m getting out of here as soon as I can anyway. And not to college either. I gave up my spot at Colby. I’m going farther away than that.” She was trying to shock him into something, some sort of reaction, but when she searched his face she didn’t see any shock. All she saw was a deep, deep well of sadness, so deep she couldn’t find the bottom.

“Come on, Alexa,” he said. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do mean it.” Her voice rose. “I did give up my spot. It’s gone. There’s nothing here for me!” She thought of Destiny and Caitlin exchanging glances with each other, walling her out. There goes Alexa again. “I’m not like you, Cam. You have your . . . your spirit wear and your golden retriever and your lake house and your pitch-perfect family.” She hadn’t met Cam’s family, but she assumed they were as innocuous, as sunshiny, as Cam. She thought of Caitlin clapping a hand over her mouth. It’s not like he was your real dad anyway. She thought of Morgan: Why can’t you just be nice, Alexa? “I don’t have any of that!” She was screaming so loudly that her throat started to hurt, so loudly that the woman weeding her garden looked over.

Cam’s voice got soft and he said, “Lots of people care about you. If you’d show everyone your nicest, best self, you’d know that.”

“This is my best self!” she snarled. She was shaking when she got in her Jeep and peeled out of the driveway. When she was halted at the stop sign at the end of Turkey Hill, waiting for a break in traffic on 113, she realized that she’d never said what she’d come to say to Cam. What she’d come to say was that she didn’t tell Cam about the Griffins to be an asshole, or to burden him just for the hell of it, or to brag about her snooping capabilities. She told him because she was scared. Because she was scared of the bad men, and she wanted his help.

She turned down Cherry Hill, passing the soccer fields where she’d played as a kid on the town teams. She hated town soccer, all those stupid cheers they made up, the endless standing around, waiting to be subbed in or out.

What was wrong with her? Who hated soccer?

Suddenly she was crying, for all sorts of reasons. She was crying for Peter, whose loss she had never felt entitled enough to truly cry about, and for Madison Miller, who left her house one day and never came back, and for her mother, who might have a new boyfriend, who was moving on, leaving Alexa behind. She was crying about Morgan, who needed her big sister but didn’t know where to find her.

The tears kept on coming, streaming down her face, blocking her vision. It didn’t seem safe to drive when she was crying so hard, so she hooked a left on Curzon Mill and pulled into the giant parking lot that belonged to Maudslay State Park and she found a spot in the very back, near the smelly bathrooms, where she cried and she cried and she cried. The parking lot was full of summer hikers and people getting ready to exercise their dogs and people examining their post-walk legs for ticks. There was a moment when one of the park rangers in his khaki outfit walked over to her, probably to see if she had an annual parking pass or if she cared to pay the daily fee instead, but when he saw her crying he backed away. She appreciated the ranger’s understanding. It felt like the kindest thing anyone had done for her in a long time.

When she was all done crying, she looked in the rearview mirror and was met by the terrifying sight of her red, swollen eyes. Clearly she wouldn’t be able to re-do the video about accrual bonds until at least tomorrow. No amount of concealer was going to fix this.





44.





Rebecca


“It’s so big,” said Rebecca. “Way bigger than I ever imagined.”

“Why, thank you,” said Daniel.

She hit him on the arm and said, “Get your mind out of the gutter.” They had gotten gelato and were sitting on a bench among the hordes of people, looking at the replica of the Nao Santa Maria, one of the tall ships that was visiting Newburyport Harbor and had docked at the waterfront.

Rebecca studied the steep, narrow gangway, the multiple decks, the tall wooden masts. “To think,” she said. “The ship this one is based on was responsible for the discovery of America. I can’t help but be cowed by it.”

“Well, yes,” said Daniel. “Although of course the country had already been discovered by the Native Americans.”

“Yes of course,” said Rebecca, abashed. “But it’s still a beautiful ship.”

“It’s still a beautiful ship,” agreed Daniel.

Once they finished their gelato, Daniel stacked their cups neatly and walked to a nearby garbage can. When he regained his seat beside her, he put his hand on the back of her neck and turned her face gently toward his. They kissed. She was going to pull away—what if somebody saw them?—but just for a second, hidden by the crowds, she didn’t care about keeping Daniel a secret.

When they pulled away—it was a brief kiss, but enough to get Rebecca’s heart racing—Daniel had a faraway look in his eyes.