We Told Six Lies(21)

I do now.

“He always had a thing for her,” I add.

Holt grabs his jacket from the kitchen counter. “You think he took off with her?”

“No.” I head toward my room, saying over my shoulder, “But maybe…I don’t know…”

“Yeah,” Holt says as I jog to my bed and slip on my jacket.

I come back out and try to read his face. I can’t tell if he’s doing this because he believes something bad might have happened to Molly, or if he just wants to help me let her go. Doesn’t matter. I’m happy for the company.

We jump in Holt’s F-150 and drive to Nixon’s house, a place I’ve been only once. It takes me a while to find it, and twice I have to make Holt turn around. When I see the blue siding and black shutters, I tell Holt to pull over. We watch the house. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but it’s Saturday, so I know Nixon will be dragging his rear somewhere today. And when he does, maybe we’ll follow him. Or better yet, maybe I’ll slip into his room. Look for anything that tells me he knows where Molly is.

Holt crosses an arm in front of his chest, stretching.

“What, you been working out?” I ask.

Holt makes a sound that tells me that’s the last thing he’d be doing. “Just slept wrong,” he says.

We wait in silence for a few minutes before Holt says, as if the thought just popped into his head, “What happened the last time you saw Molly? Maybe it’d help if we went through that.”

I glance at him. I can’t tell him that. It’ll come out wrong.

“We just went out to eat,” I mutter instead.

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

“I don’t know. Lending’s Deli.”

“Did she seem okay to you then?” he asks.

“How do you mean?”

He bobs his head side to side. “I don’t know. Did you guys get along or whatever?”

“Did we fight? Is that what you’re asking?”

“Nah. I’m just wondering—”

“I know what you’re wondering. Leave it alone. You’re looking in the wrong place.”

But my brother knows me better than I know myself, and if he’s wondering what exactly happened to Molly, and whether I had anything to do with it, then the situation can’t look good, despite the letter.

He sighs. “Cobain, I’m your brother. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?”

“There’s nothing to say. She mailed a letter,” I remind him. “She’s probably in California by now. Or wherever.”

“Maybe,” he says. “What did she mean by ‘My compass is broken’?”

I press my lips together and pretend it’s not all I’ve thought about since I heard those words. Then, because I really don’t know, I shrug.

Neither one of us says anything for a long time as we watch the house. Finally, I lean over and punch him in the shoulder, harder than I should. “I’ve got a little cash. Let’s grab something to eat. Want to hit Dino’s?”

He raises his eyebrows. Lowers them. “I’d rather do drive-through. How about Micky D’s?”

“Done.”

Holt pulls onto the road and drives away, but not before I spot Nixon coming out of his house. He’s carrying a large duffel bag and glancing around as if he’s looking for someone. He doesn’t see Holt’s truck.

But I see him.

He throws the bag in the trunk of his car. Runs a hand through his hair like he’s nervous.

“What are you looking at?” Holt asks.

“Nixon,” I say, craning my neck. “He just came out.”

Holt hits the brakes. “Want me to go back?”

“Nah,” I say. “Keep driving. This is a waste of time.”

Maybe I say it just to see how Holt will respond. To see whether he really believed that anyone else might be responsible for Molly’s sudden departure. When he keeps driving, I decide I have my answer. I can trust my brother. He has my back in all things. But I realize something, then, that rattles me to my core.

My brother doesn’t trust me.

Which is why I don’t tell him that I’ll be returning to Nixon’s house alone.





THEN


I’d never been this nervous, this vulnerable.

I’d walked past this gym a thousand times on my way to school, but never had I been this close, more hope in my chest than seemed possible.

You reached over and squeezed my knee. “Why don’t we forget this? Let’s go to the mall and walk around. Make fun of small children and old people.”

“You love small children and old people.”

“So true. It’s everyone in the middle I don’t trust.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I want to do this.”

“As long as you’re doing it for yourself.”

“It was my idea,” I said, looking at you.

“Yeah, but—”

I put a finger to your lips. You grabbed my hand and took my finger into your mouth, and I just about lost my shit right there in the parking lot. You must have known why I wanted that job. I wanted to take you out for a proper dinner. Wanted to buy you the velvet choker you saw at Sabrina. Wanted to buy a car of my own so I could stop begging my dad anytime I wanted to be alone with you.