We Told Six Lies(56)

She knew it was no longer a gamble.

He wouldn’t touch her.

He seemed to fight for breath before reaching up to cut her other bond. She threw that arm around him too and breathed thank you into his broad chest. Then, just as quickly, she released his torso, went to the bathroom, and slipped on her new dress. She passed him by once she had it on, knowing he watched every step she took, and walked ahead of him and out the door. She climbed the stairs with confidence, her purple dress cascading over the steps as she rose higher and higher, a velvet moon in her own right.

When they arrived at the top of the stairs, she went to the thing she remembered seeing—a record player in the living room, with stacks of vinyl beneath it. She crouched down to take one, but Blue grabbed her wrist.

These meant something to him, she realized.

“It’s okay,” she said, because she had to make progress. And she needed to set the stage.

Don’t ever try and sway someone without first tending to ambiance, Mockingbird. Don’t simply ask for what you want. Sweep them away into a production of your own creation.

He released her and backed away. As she pulled the record from its sleeve and placed it on the turntable—fumbling over how to get it started—she noticed the window over the door had been boarded over. Her stomach churned as she remembered what was at stake.

He watched her as “House of the Rising Sun” began to play, and she sat on the couch, sweeping her dress beneath her. Unsure what to do with himself, he leaned against the wall opposite her. Folded his arms across his chest.

Blue glanced toward the kitchen, and she knew he was thinking of cooking something. That was his default when things grew tense. It kept his hands busy.

But Molly had other uses for those hands tonight.

“I had a friend once,” she said, and Blue looked back to her. “A real friend. She used to come to my window at night, and I’d crawl out to meet her. We’d go anywhere. Everywhere. It would be so quiet. When I was with her, it felt like everything that was happening at my house slipped away. We didn’t go to the same school. We didn’t even live in the same neighborhood. She would ride her bike three miles to come see me at night.”

Blue watched her closely, not uttering a single word. Though he always wore that wretched mask, she tried to imagine his face. Wondered if he wet his lips. Or chewed the inside of his cheek or furrowed his brow.

“I met her at the park, mostly because my dad hated the park. He always said it was a place the rich paid for and the poor overused. But I loved it.” She smiled, sadness twisting her bones. “And I think I loved her, too.”

Blue slid down the wall until his legs were held protectively in front of his body. He rested his forearms on his knees and kept his eyes on her.

“One day, she told me she’d be gone soon. I thought she meant her family was moving.” Molly shook her head. “We lay side by side beneath this perfect night sky, and I stared at the stars, and I thought, ‘If she leaves, I’ll kill myself. I can’t exist without her.’ I kissed her then, thinking that’s what she wanted. But she knew I was doing that for her sake.”

She dropped her head and fought to regain her composure. She took three deep breaths, and when she raised her head again, the record was ready to change sides. She rose and strode across the room as if she’d lived in this home her entire life and knew the exact places the boards would creak beneath her feet.

She turned the record, and her eyes fell on the floor.

Then they fell on Blue.

Swallowing, she walked toward him. Stopped before him as he looked up at her. She held out her hand. He recoiled, and then seemed to realize what she was offering. He shook his head.

“You brought me here against my will,” she said with unintended ferociousness. “And now you refuse to touch me?”

He stared at her face, and then looked back at her hand.

And he took it.

She helped pull him to his feet, imagined shoving him back down when he was halfway up. Imagined crashing her heel into his nose a thousand times until that mask was impaled through his skull.

She smiled at him.

She stretched his hand out to the right, and when he didn’t make a move to do it himself, she placed his left lightly on her hip. The music played, and with his body stiff, awkward, Molly led their feet across the floor.

As one song led to another, Molly struggled to find the words to say what needed to be said. Finally, as she worked through these things in her mind, Blue found the courage to move his hand a little farther around her waist, and to pull her an almost imperceptible distance closer.

Now, she thought to herself.

Molly stepped toward him and bit back bile as she laid her head on his shoulder. He flinched but didn’t pull away. The music played, and the room tilted, and his hands burned holes through her skin.

She raised her mouth to his ear, and she said, “I know why you brought me here.”

His feet slowed, but she pushed against him, led him into another turn about the room, and he followed her like the clouds chasing the sun across an ever-blue sky.

“The sadness you’re feeling fills this house. I’m drowning in it.”

He tensed, but she only danced closer.

“I know what you want to do,” she said, filling his head. Infiltrating his mind. “But you’re afraid to leap. And you don’t want to leap alone.”