Lies You Never Told Me(35)

“It’s so peaceful here,” she says. “This was the first place I felt safe when I moved to Austin.”

“Yeah?” I smile. “Me too, actually. I mean, it was the first place I felt like myself, after my sister was born.”

She cocks her head inquisitively. I hesitate for a moment.

“I’m not super proud of this, but . . . I had a hard time when Vivi was little. I don’t know if you’ve had the pleasure of a meeting a special-needs toddler before, but take your average toddler insanity and multiply it by about a million. I kind of . . . wasn’t very nice.”

The memories still make my cheeks burn. The way I’d back away from her when she reached out toward me, always just out of reach, just to torment her. The way I’d blame things on her—like when I knocked down my mom’s Día de los Muertos altar, breaking one of the clay skeletons inside, or when I tracked mud all over the rug of my dad’s study.

“Some of it was jealousy. She took so much of my parents’ attention, and I was used to being an only child. And some of it was that I was . . . embarrassed. God, that’s such a shitty thing to say. I was an idiot.” I shake my head. “Anyway . . . in junior high, I met Caleb, and he started bringing me down here. Sometimes to swim, sometimes just to hike the trails. Something about it helped me get centered. And . . . you know, I guess once I started being a little happier, I was finally able to see what a great little kid Vivi was. But I’ve never really forgiven myself for being such a jerk.”

I wonder for a second if I’ve talked too much. Catherine is quiet, looking down at her lap. But she leans against my shoulder, her hair spilling out across my chest

“I so get that,” she whispers. “It’s hard to forgive yourself for stuff like that. God, there are things I wish I could just . . . scrub off the past. I don’t want to think of myself as the kind of person that could do . . . some of the things I’ve done. But there are some things . . . once you’ve done them, you’re branded with them forever.”

I look down at her, almost amused. “What could you have done that’s that bad?”

She turns her face toward my chest so I can’t see her expression.

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes,” she says.

For a moment I don’t say anything. I don’t know what she’s thinking about, but I have a feeling it’s more than cheating on a math test. I don’t want to say the wrong thing. But my fingers curl protectively around the back of her head.

“Yeah, but, Cat . . . everyone deserves a second chance,” I say.

She lifts her head to look up at me. Her storm-blue eyes pull me in. She smiles then, a tiny curve of the lips. My heart swoops.

And then we’re kissing again, soft at first, tentative, then hungry, our mouths opening against each other. She presses against my chest and we lay back against the warm stone. My hands move over her, searching, running through her silky hair, playing down her spine, cupping the small swell of her hip. Every thought in my head is crowded out by the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her skin against mine. Her fingers slip inside my T-shirt and graze my stomach, and I catch my breath.

My phone shrills in the quiet. I fumble for it, thinking I’ll send the call to voice mail. But when I check the screen and see it’s my mom, something keeps me from ignoring the call. I answer.

“Hey, what’s going . . .”

“Where are you guys?” My mom’s voice is annoyed. I glance automatically around the clearing.

“I’m at the Greenbelt with some friends. What’s up?”

The line’s silent for a moment. Catherine cocks her head inquisitively, but I just frown.

“You took Vivi to the Greenbelt?” asks Mom after a moment.

“Vivi? No.” I adjust the phone so it’s closer to my ear. “I got your message. I’ve been out with some . . .”

“It’s almost five!” Her voice is louder now. “Her school’s been out for three hours, Gabe!”

“Wait . . .” I sit up a little straighter. “Are you saying she’s not with you?”

“Hold on. I’m calling her school.” She hangs up without waiting for my reply.

A panicky, metallic taste is rising up in my throat. I hold my breath, staring straight ahead. Something lands lightly on my back, and I half turn to see Catherine, her hand resting on my shirt.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

“I guess I was supposed to get my little sister.” I frown, fumbling in my pocket for the note from the office, but it’s not there. I must have thrown it away. “She’s probably been waiting for hours for someone to get her. Fuck.” I stand up. “We have to head back to the car. I’ll have to pick her up on the way home.”

But we’ve gone just a little way down the trail when the phone rings again. It’s my mom.

“Get home right now.”

Her tone sends a shock down my spine. She’s not mad. She’s scared.

“What’s wrong?”

My mother takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“She’s missing, Gabe. Vivi’s missing.”





EIGHTEEN


    Elyse




The night is cold, the sky laced with clouds, when I step out into the movie theater’s parking lot. Fake-butter smell is embedded in my hair and clothes, and my soles cling to the asphalt with every step, sticky with sugar. Fridays are both the easiest and hardest shifts to pull—the pace is hectic enough to make it go fast, but I always end up with an aching back and feet in the process. Tonight I spent six hours running from one side of concessions to the other while customers barked orders. I burned my hand on the hot dog warmer, and then the soda machine broke, so I had to spend the rest of my shift telling people that no, they couldn’t get a Pepsi. My ears still throb, even out here in the quiet darkness.