The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried(12)

If I can’t explain it with science, that leaves the realm of miracles. I’m not sure where I stand on religion, but I do believe there are wonders that defy logic. This could be one of them. But if an omnipotent deity exists and is capable of raising July from the dead—mostly—why would they? It certainly couldn’t be so we could argue about our failed friendship. If there’s a god granting miracles, why didn’t he help restore Puerto Rico’s power and get them clean water after our stupid president failed to? Why didn’t he stop the angry men with guns? Why didn’t he eliminate the garbage from the oceans or wink the nuclear weapons out of existence? July was my best friend, and even though I’m confused about how I feel, there is part of me that’s happy she’s not-dead. And yet, it still seems like a waste of a miracle.

I’m so caught up thinking about July that I nearly miss Mrs. Cooper’s car as it drives past, turns into the cul-de-sac, and pulls into the driveway. The garage door begins to rise and the outside flood lights trip on. I slide low in my seat, watching as Mrs. Cooper and Jo?lle get out of the car.

“Oh shit,” I whisper.

I have no way of sending a message to July, and she’s going to be trapped inside with them.

Then I see her. July. Her face pressed against the upstairs window, waving her arms frantically. I’m too far to see her expression, but I can imagine her wide-eyed terror as she realizes her predicament.

I jump out of the car and trot toward Mrs. Cooper and Jo?lle. They see me and freeze, confused—it’s late and I have no reason to be here—but I have to give July time to escape.

“Dino?” Mrs. Cooper says. She stands in front of the garage, which actually is full of old furniture, with her keys in her hand. I didn’t even know Mrs. Cooper had started doing restorations. Last I heard she was working on her next novel.

“Hey.” I shove my hands in my pockets and try to look as bereaved as possible.

Mrs. Cooper offers me a smile, but there’s an emptiness in her eyes. A hollowed-out darkness. “Dino, what’re you doing here?”

I didn’t plan beyond running from the car, and now I’m panicking. I don’t know how much time July needs to get out of the house, so I stall for as long as I can.

“I was out driving,” I say. “My feet brought me here. Or, wheels, I guess.”

Jo?lle huddles close to her mother and watches me wordlessly. She looks like there’s a density at the center of her that’s pulling everything toward it. Devouring who she is. Mrs. Cooper rests her arm around Jo’s shoulders. “Do you want to come in, Dino?”

“No!”

Mrs. Cooper sighs and frowns. “I know this is tough for you—”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know why I came. It’s just, July. I miss July.”

The looks on their faces. I feel awful doing this to them. Bringing up July. Using my grief as a distraction. There’s a special room in hell being prepared for me right now. I hope this is worth it.

Mrs. Cooper moves toward me. “Dino—”

“Good . . . Good night,” I say. “I’ll see you at the . . . I’ll see you tomorrow.” I walk quickly to my car. They’re still standing in their driveway watching me, so I crank the engine and crawl away.

Jesus, she knows. Mrs. Cooper has to know. Okay, maybe she doesn’t know July is not-dead, but she has to suspect something’s up.

I watch the clock. I wait until two whole minutes have passed, and then shut off my lights and slowly reverse down the street until I’m in front of July’s house. The floods are dark and the garage door closed.

Did July make it out? A burst of pain hits me in the bladder and I can’t tell whether I’m going to puke or piss myself, and then a shadow detaches from the side of the house and dashes toward the car, arms flailing. It’s July, it has to be. She might as well be screaming like a banshee.

July opens the door and throws a bag onto the floor and herself into the seat and yells, “Go, go, go!”

I put the car in drive and floor it, the momentum helping slam the door shut. July’s laughing her ass off by the time we reach the top of her development, and I park and round on her.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

July grins. “That I didn’t want to run around wearing Dee’s clothes.” Her new outfit suits her more, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Then July pulls a coral dress out of the bag. She beams at it like she’s going to be wearing it while strutting down the red carpet.

“You risked being caught so you could get a dress?” I ask. “Where the hell are you even planning to wear it?”

“Wherever I damn well feel like it.”

I’d strangle her if she weren’t not-dead. “Since I’m guessing you won’t let me take you back, where to now?”

July looks at me with an evil grin that makes my heart stutter and skip a beat. She licks her lips slowly and says, “You know? I’ve changed my mind. I think I’m getting hungry after all.”





JULY

HECTOR LOOKS ME UP AND down and tuts. “Girl, you need some sun.”

“She’s dead,” Dino says.

I elbow him in the ribs. “Not-dead.”

The bitter-apple expression on his face doesn’t change. “And is that smell coming from one of you?” He wrinkles his nose. “It smells like death and regret.”