The Secrets We Keep(46)

The kitchen was a mess, dishes were still in the sink and the coffeepot was still sitting on the counter, the bottom ringed with black sludge. At least Bailey had taken care of what was left of the pizza. The chicken soup though … somehow he’d managed to topple the bowl onto his head. He’d licked himself clean as best he could, but he was sticky, the fur on his head matted down and littered with tiny chunks of carrots. It was unusual for Mom to leave the kitchen like this. It was unusual for her to leave anything out of place.

I picked up the empty carton of creamer and tossed it in the trash and was reaching for the dishwasher when I saw the e-mail printout. Moving an overturned mug aside, I picked up the page and swiped at the coffee stain on it. It was useless; the light brown stain was dried.

I recognized the e-mail address. It was from the department at RISD and addressed to both Mom and me.

I’d submitted the application the night Maddy died, the night I became her. I’d tried not to think about it since then. In fact, I’d nearly forgotten I’d even applied. Until now. Until the proof lay coffee-stained in my hand.

I didn’t bother to read it, forced myself not to scan the first few lines to see what it said. I just shoved the e-mail into my bag and headed out the door, not wanting to be reminded of yet another thing I had failed to do right.

School was quiet, but I’d expected that. I’d come in early to avoid Alex. He’d have questions about why I left and why I wasn’t returning his calls, and I didn’t have any answers. Or not any that didn’t involve a complicated set of lies.

I rounded the corner of the hallway and saw Josh standing there staring into his open locker. “Hey,” I said.

His eyes flicked in my direction and I walked toward him. He was the only familiar thing in my life anymore, and I wanted to be close to him.

Josh waited until I stopped next to him before he looked at me, really looked at me, then shook his head. “Back in the role, I see,” he said, and returned his attention to his locker.

I knew what he meant. I had on leather boots and skinny jeans and three layers of shirts and sweaters that were strategically placed and itched like crazy. Crap, I was even getting better at doing my makeup. Thanks to two hours of practice last night, I’d only had one mishap with the mascara this morning, but luckily it wasn’t waterproof.

“Yeah, for now,” I said.

“Forever?”

I shrugged. That was the plan.

He slammed his locker shut, not a single book in his hands. “Yeah, well, I have class, and I have to go find Kim, so whatever.”

“Wait.” I reached out and grabbed his arm. I wasn’t done talking to him. I hadn’t started talking to him. His eyes zeroed in on the hand I had locked around his arm. He didn’t flinch or try to shake me off. He stood there, hyperfocused on it.

Unsure of what to say, I let go and dropped my backpack to the floor. I unzipped it and pulled out the e-mail I’d stashed inside. “Here,” I said, and handed it to him. “I don’t know what it says. I was too scared to look.”

Josh took the paper from my hands and stared at it much the same way I had in the kitchen. I saw the slight tremor in his hands, knew that he was as anxious as I was to see what it said.

“This isn’t your e-mail address,” he said.

I pushed it back in his direction when he tried to hand it to me. “I know. It’s my mom’s. She got it yesterday and printed it off.” I left out the part about my mom not sleeping, about the circles under her eyes, the messy house, and the fact that I was quite sure she hadn’t showered or changed since yesterday. Josh liked my mom. He thought she was sweet, always cooking him food or asking to see his latest drawing. I didn’t want that to change. For either of them.

“So ask her what it says if you’re so curious.”

I took a step back at the harshness of his words. This was the plan. This was always the plan. We’d both dreamed about this since freshman year. We’d both applied early decision to the same school. We were going to open the replies together, each one reading the other’s letter. That was the deal.

“I’m not asking my mom. I’m asking you.”

He grunted something incoherent and started reading. My eyes tracked from the paper to his face, seeking any indication of what it said. I got nothing.

“Well? What does it say?” I inched forward to read it myself. He tilted the paper out of my view.

“You still planning on being Maddy?”

“What? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Answer the question. Are you still playing Maddy?”

I stared at Josh, tried to decipher the hatred behind his words. Josh and I had fought before, but this was different. This was intense. “Yeah, why?”


Josh shook his head and walked past me, stopping in front of my old locker. He smoothed the e-mail out and shoved it between the thin slots at the top.

I could get it out, but I’d have to open the locker. That hadn’t gone so well my first day back, and I wasn’t looking for a repeat performance of that spectacle. “What did you do that for?”

“Because Maddy didn’t get in.”

“Wait, you mean? Did they say no? They really said no?” I knew there was a chance, a strong possibility more likely, that I wouldn’t get into RISD, but I had kind of refused to think about that, was banking on the yes until I had definitive proof otherwise. “Did you get in?”