Boys Like You(46)

“He was already gone when they found him, and by then my mother had made it to the park.” I shook violently at the memory. At the sound of my mother wailing. At the image of her pounding her fists into the police officer’s chest. Her nails were scarlet. Blood red and pointy.

Funny the details you remember.

“The coroner told my parents later that he died because of a severe asthma attack, and I remember my mom asking about his inhaler. ‘Where was his inhaler?’ she kept asking, saying it over and over. I could never answer, but I think that she knows. I’ve never told her or my dad that I had his inhaler. That I still have his inhaler. I never told them that…”

I clung to Nathan, trying to block out the sounds of Malcolm’s cries and the images of his face. My chest was so tight I could barely breathe, but eventually it fell away and I was nothing but a limp bag of bones and flesh.

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“Jesus, Monroe. I’m so, so sorry.”

I was hollow. Spent.

“Yeah,” I answered slowly. “Me too.”

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Chapter Twenty-Two


Nathan


I woke up because the sun was in my eyes. It wavered for a bit and then disappeared again.

Shit. It was morning, and we were still in the maze. My hair was damp from the dew, but with Monroe still in my arms, burrowed beneath the blanket I’d brought, I was warm and dry.

It felt right somehow to be here with her, and I realized that for the first time in a long time, I was exactly where I wanted to be.

I don’t think I slept much, but then how could I? I was still so angry for Monroe. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to smash and destroy and get rid of the anger inside me. It had festered and pulled real hard, just like it had the night after my accident when I’d woken up in the hospital, and Trevor didn’t.

But I did none of that. I held Monroe until she’d fallen asleep, and then with no one but the lonesome owl nearby to hear me, I cried like a baby.

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I cried for a little boy I’d never met and his sister who had come to mean everything to me in the space of a few weeks. I cried for Trevor. For his mom and dad. I cried like I hadn’t cried since I was a kid in fourth grade and my collie, Abram, died.

The bus had pulled up to my driveway, and there he was, lying in the middle of the road, killed by a car or truck.

I had to pull Abram out of the way for the bus driver, and I remember dragging his big body all the way to the porch, where I sat and cried until my dad came home.

We never got another dog after that, because me and my parents couldn’t deal with the dying thing. Still couldn’t. Here I was, nearly eighteen and still having trouble.

Everything fell out of me, and no one witnessed it except whoever the hell was up there, looking down on us. I wasn’t sure if I liked him or not. I mean, what kind of God lets shit like this happen to little boys?

What kind of God lets someone like me get behind the wheel and destroy his best friend?

“Shit,” I muttered, wincing as a ray of light fell into the center of the maze again, hitting me in the face like a big F U.

I guess it was his way of telling me that He didn’t let any of us do anything. If we screwed up, it was on us. We had to own it.

We could think. We could do.

It was up to us to make the right choices, but maybe it was up to Him to help with the fallout.

Maybe it was Him who had sent Monroe to me.

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Or maybe it was just fate.

Or maybe none of it was real. Maybe none of it mattered.

Maybe I was so tired I couldn’t think straight.

I tried to wiggle my legs a bit because my muscles were tight and cramped, but all I did was manage to send shooting pains up my thighs and to wake up Monroe.

She moved against me, her hair a wild mess that spilled over my chest. It took a few seconds to clear it from her face, and when she did, her eyes, those pale, crystal clear eyes, gazed up at me in a way that made my heart twist.

“Hey,” she said, her voice raspy.

I didn’t answer because nothing seemed to be big enough. No one word or phrase could cover what I was feeling. Instead, I bent forward and kissed her forehead, my hand seeking her jaw, and then I brushed the softness of her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

I nodded and just held her for as long as I could. She didn’t say anything else, and I was cool with that. Somehow, it was easier to confess and reveal when you were in the dark, but here in the early dawn, it was harder.

For now, holding her was enough. At least, I hoped it was enough for Monroe, because I would do anything to take away the pain I’d seen the night before.

Anything.

“Oh my God!” She squirmed and sat up. “We’ve been out here all night!”

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Monroe rolled over and was on her knees before I had a chance to do or say anything.