Pretend She's Here(57)

When we got to the top of the hill, we stepped out of the woods into a big clearing. There was a rustic hut, and someone had already lit a bonfire. It crackled and sparked, orange flames shooting straight up into the star-filled sky. The other side of the hill gave onto a long, wide slope. Looking around in a 360-degree circle, there was not one house visible. There were no streetlights. This was the wilderness, the most peaceful place I’d ever been.

“Who’s first?” Mark asked.

“We’ll go,” Beth said. She and Jon piled on, shoved off, and we heard their shrieks of exquisite terror and delight as they went sliding down. They disappeared below the last ridge, and then came Hideki and Roxanne, a girl who was a senior.

Mark, Carole, Casey, and I stood by the fire. I took off my gloves to warm my hands. I watched Mark put his arms around Carole, standing in the dark circle just outside the glow.

“Want to take a run?” Casey asked me.

“Sure,” I said.

We maneuvered our toboggan onto the hill’s crest. I settled on the hard wooden seat, and Casey sat behind me. His legs were tight around my hips. We braced our feet on the curved piece in front. Then we both used our hands to shove off, and we went flying down the slope.

The frosty air filled my mouth and eyes. Every bump sent us airborne, but we used our weight and balance to stay centered and not topple over. The wind rushed past us. The faster we went, Casey’s arms came around me and held me tighter. I leaned back into his chest, and my heart was thrashing so hard I was sure he felt it. We careened around a bend, instinctively tilting left as if we were one person. Then a right turn, and his arms tightened again and made me feel so thrilled I forgot to lean, and we spun out and soared into a snowdrift.

We landed in a lump, arms and legs entwined. The opposite of hurting, tickled by snow crystals. We laughed just a little at first, then hysterically. We cleared snow off each other’s faces. I’d lost my hat, and he smoothed my hair.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Great, you?”

“Better than great.”

Which, considering the fact we’d just crashed into the hillside, struck us as incredibly funny, and we both started laughing again. Then all at once the laughter stopped, I looked into his eyes, and he kissed me.

The world fell out from under me, and I was floating in space, held up by Casey’s arms. And I was holding him, too, with all my might. The smell of pine trees and crisp snow surrounded us, and we lifted above the earth. His lips were soft and the kiss was hot, and I forgot I had a body and a life—and I was part of Casey and he was part of me.

Casey took off his glove. He raised his hand, touched my cheek. His fingers felt warm.

“I wish I could see you,” he said. “Really see you. The details, the way your eyes look, every single thing, not just the shadow.”

“You already do,” I said. “More than anyone.” I had to say it; I couldn’t have stopped the words if I’d tried. “You see the real me. Not my Lizzie disguise.”

“You’re incognito?” he asked. He thought I was joking.

“Yes,” I said.

“Then who are you really?” Still joking.

“You know,” I said, my voice breaking. “You already guessed it. And I’ve been wanting to tell you you’re right.”

“Right about what?”

“You know how we talked about our mothers before? I meant my real one.”

“Your real one?” he asked, frowning.

“She’s waiting for me in Connecticut. She misses me. I’m so afraid that if I don’t return to her she’ll start drinking again. Maybe she already has …”

Casey slipped his arms around me. The smile left his face, and his eyes were suddenly solemn. I felt him realize that this wasn’t a joke, that I was being serious. My heart began to gallop. There was no containing what I felt. I heard the sound of my blood rushing. We were perfectly still, but the darkness around us seemed alive, the constellations tilting overhead.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I can’t say it out loud,” I whispered. “Something terrible will happen if I tell.”

“You’re the missing girl,” he said, saying it for me.

“Yes,” I said, and a door in my heart opened. “I’m Emily.”

*

I hadn’t meant to say that. The words just slipped out. Or maybe deep down I had intended to tell him—because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Keeping the truth inside was killing me.

“Why did you run away?” he asked.

That was the question that stopped me, brought me to a screeching halt against the force of reality. Should I go all the way, tell him the whole truth, ask him to help me? Mrs. Porter, my mother, the knife. My mind fought with itself over what to say.

“I …” I began.

“Your family misses you; it’s been all over the news,” Casey said. “The drinking—you were talking about your real mother. Not Mrs. Porter.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Don’t you want to go home?” he asked.

“More than anything.”

“This is why you’re worried your mother will start drinking again?”

I nodded.

We were still lying in the snowdrift. The sky had stopped spinning. We sat up and held each other. My head was on his shoulder; I could feel him breathing hard. I couldn’t bear the idea of letting go.