Lies You Never Told Me(39)

“We were at your locker, right before sixth period!” She looks at my mom. “Mrs. Jiménez, I’m so sorry. He asked me to watch her all afternoon or I would have brought her back sooner. I didn’t know you’d be so scared.”

Vivi hasn’t stopped licking her ice cream, but she looks up at the sound of Sasha’s anguish. A worried expression works its way onto her face. She breaks away from Mom and staggers back to Sasha, putting her arms around her waist.

“Don’t cry, Sash,” she croons. “It okay.”

Larson looks around the room in exasperation. “Okay, so it seems to me we have a miscommunication . . .”

“It’s not a miscommunication,” I insist. “I never told her she could take my sister. This is kidnapping.” My jaw is so tight I can feel my teeth screeching against each other. I stand for a moment, trying to breathe deep. Trying to calm down.

“Stay away from my family.” I look right at Sasha. Daring her to smirk, to show the slightest bit of pleasure in this. Daring her to give me the slightest sign that this is part of her game.

Tears brim at the edge of her eyes. She wipes them away with the back of her hand.

Officer Huntington moves gently between us. “Ms. Daley, why don’t you step out to the front porch with me. I’ll need a statement before you go, but then I think you can head home. Everyone here’s had a really long and difficult day.”

“Okay.” Sasha gives Vivi one last squeeze. “Bye, kiddo.”

Vivi smiles and lays her head against Sasha’s hip for a moment before being let go. She lets our mother scoop her back up and waves with her ice cream cone, a ribbon of chocolate winding down her fist. “Bye, Sash!”

Sasha pauses in the doorway, the cop just behind her. She looks at Vivi, but I know her words are meant for me.

“It was fun,” she says. “I’ll see you again soon.”





TWENTY


    Elyse




I stand at the edge of the ocean, the wind whipping through my hair. The frigid water sweeps around my feet and pulls the sand out from under my toes. It’s a strange sensation, having the earth wrested out from under me. Feeling the tide’s gentle but inexorable power.

I hug my jacket tighter around my shoulders and glance over at Aiden. He stands a few feet away, hands in his pocket.

He’s quiet today. When he picked me up a few blocks from my apartment, we didn’t kiss—not in the middle of Portland, in broad daylight—but his hand reached across the console to hold mine. He held it most of the way to Cannon Beach. I relished the contact. His fingers were warm, calloused in some places and soft in others. But I also wasn’t sure what to say. The kiss changed everything. Or at least, it feels like it did. What did he expect from me? What did he want?

Now, on the beach, he notices me looking, and smiles. I feel suddenly shy; I look down at my legs, at the sea foam swirling around my ankles. The air is chill and foggy, the water the gray-green of patina. But then he’s stepping close to me, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear, and I look up. It feels brazen, ostentatious. The line his fingertips etch across my cheek burns.

“Are you warm enough?” he asks.

It’s a simple question, a practical one. But I know what he’s really asking. Are you okay? Are you scared? Are you happy? Are you still on board with this?

“Yes,” I say, resting my hand on his broad chest.



* * *



? ? ?

We walk up and down the beach, looking at seashells and driftwood tangled with kelp. Haystack Rock looms across the sand, a barnacled hunchback wheeling with gulls. I trace our names in the sand with a stick and watch the water wear them away. It feels daring, putting our two names so close together, even if it’s so easily erased.

Afterward, we get lunch in a bistro, plates of pasta and fresh, hot bread. We walk slowly through the little town, peeking into shop windows. There aren’t many people on the street, and a lot of stores are boarded up for the winter.

“I’ve never been here before,” I say. He does a double take.

“Really? It’s so close!”

“Yeah, but my mom . . .” I shrug. “We don’t take a lot of road trips.”

“Right.” He shakes his head. “I bet there are places all over the state you haven’t seen. Crater Lake? Opal Creek? Boardman State Park? Please tell me you’ve at least been to the Gorge.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I went to Multnomah Falls with my class in junior high.”

He just shakes his head. “There’s so much more than just Multnomah Falls.” He looks down at me for a long moment, then covers my hand with his and takes it to his mouth, kissing the palm. “I’ll show you.”

“Show me everything,” I say.

He smiles, tucks an arm around my waist. I lean in against him.

Then he jerks away so suddenly I almost fall over.

Before I can say anything, he’s dodged into the bookstore just behind us. I freeze in surprise, the chill of the air sharp where a moment ago his arm kept me warm. I’m about to follow him when I see what he must have seen.

Kendall Avery is coming out of a restaurant with her family, just across the street.

Her parents look like they just stepped out of an L.L.Bean catalog, all fleece vests and worn, clean boots. Two little kids with the same red hair as Kendall play tag around a statue of a bear, giggling. Kendall herself stares down at her phone, looking bored and sour.