How to Save a Life(72)

“Can’t you feel it?”

I nodded, tears filling my eyes. “I hoped…that you did…”

Evan’s eyes shone, submerged and blue like our pool.

“Oh, sweetness, I’ve always loved you. Since high school. Since the day you told me about your mother and your scar…And I had just told you why I’d been at Woodside and you didn’t laugh at me or call me crazy. You believed me. Or maybe you didn’t, but you accepted me. And that had never happened to me before.”

He sat up on one elbow, intent now.

“But more than your acceptance, I fell in love with you for you. Not just because you were the first girl I’d ever kissed or touched. I fell in love with your strength and your fire. You’d been through hell,” he touched my scar, trailed his finger down it lightly, “and you never gave up.” His fingertip touch became his whole hand as cupped my cheeks. “I love you, Josephine. I do. And I’ll never stop.”

My tears rolled down to his hands holding me. He drew me toward him for a kiss, and as his lips touched mine, I whispered, “I love you, Evan. I love you, and I’ll never stop.”

And it felt like vows, our words. As if we’d bonded ourselves together at that riverbank, with the sun shining gold and hot above us. We kissed and kissed, and Evan sighed into our kiss, as if he were utterly content. And me...I felt happy. Because of Evan. Evan breathed his love into me, and I was happy.





We left the river at mid-afternoon, thinking our luck would probably run out if we lingered any longer. I could’ve stayed forever, naked with him in the sun, but Evan was getting that look again, his facing filling up with that unnamed sense of urgency. It was time to go.

We washed up as best we could in the river, dressed and hiked back to the highway, the clouds thickening above us in the hot, heavy air. We hitched into Wichita, catching a ride with a traveling auditor who specialized in helping small businesses sort out their tax problems. It wasn’t the season for it he said, but he still got a few calls. He said we got lucky he came along. I thought we did too, since this guy wasn’t a fan of news radio and hadn’t heard the APB for two hitchhikers wanted by the police. Hitchhikers who looked exactly like his two passengers. He chatted nonstop, thrilled to have the company, and when we got out of his sedan in Wichita he seemed disappointed to see us go.

We kept to the streets at the edge of the city until Evan found a motel he thought was close enough to transportation, but obscure enough to avoid notice by the police.

A bored-looking, dark-haired guy in his mid-twenties sat behind the glass at the front desk, his attention fixed on the iPad propped in front of him. He was into deathcore metal music videos, judging by the sound of cranking guitar riffs and screaming lyrics. If I had to guess, I’d say he was the son of the motel owner, forced to work at the family business all summer.

As usual, Evan paid cash for a room on the first floor, near the back. A thrill shot down my spine when this time he insisted that the room have one king size bed.

“I smell like algae,” I said as Evan unlocked the door. “I need a shower. And food.”

“I want a shower too, but you go first. I’ll get the food. I’m starving.”

“It’s what happens when you exert yourself so hard,” I said, when we’d stepped inside.

He pulled me close. “I’m going to exert myself against you all night,” he said, and laughed when I rolled my eyes. “Oh come on, that was a great line, right?”

“That was a terrible line,” I said, giving him a playful shove. “Food. Go.”

“Preference?”

“Anything. You pick.” I was halfway in the bathroom when I stopped. “Shit, I’m way overdue to call Del. She’s got to be worried sick about me by now. Can I do that without getting her in trouble?”

“I’ll ask the front desk guy where there’s a RadioShack or something,” Evan said. “I can get one of those prepaid cell phones, you know? The kind you can just throw away when you’re done?”

“A burner,” I said. “Are they expensive?”

“I don’t think so. I have enough. Which reminds me.”

Evan pulled out his wallet and emptied out money onto the bed. Then he went to his duffel and pulled out another small leather portfolio. Another few hundred dollars joined the bills on the mattress. I watched as he counted and separated the cash into two piles.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Your share.”

“My share?”

“About four hundred each. We’re in this together right? I don’t want you to feel you have to ask me for anything. If you want something you should have it.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

Evan moved to kiss me softly. “Be safe. Keep the door locked. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“That’s right,” I told him. “One hour. Not a minute later.”

He kissed me again. “I will always come back to you.”





I was out of the shower and dressed in my sleep shorts and a tank top when Evan returned. He’d found a mom-and-pop barbecue joint by RadioShack and his arms were laden with bags of barbecue chicken, coleslaw, biscuits, and mashed potatoes. After we stuffed our faces, Evan rifled in the RadioShack bag and handed over the prepaid cell phone.