You Owe Me a Murder(44)

“At the time, he described you as more than hurt. He implied you were a bit obsessive.”

I winced. I couldn’t really deny it. I had stalked him at work between camp sessions, following him from his staff locker, just a few steps behind, trying to catch a whiff of his cologne or overhear him talking. I’d finish my work early so I could watch him with his campers. I’d show up at the coffee shop near the center and act as if I was surprised to find him there.

In retrospect, I get that my behavior was creepy. But no one seemed to understand that what he’d done felt just as wrong—?to have that closeness with me with no intention of it meaning anything. He wasn’t simply rejecting me, he was taking away the future I wanted. I couldn’t face reality. I became convinced that he was just stressed with the start of school coming and that if I could only hang in there, we’d work it out.

Detective Sharma shifted, smoothing a single loose hair into the bun at the back of her head. “He told his parents?”

“In July. I guess like a month ago now. They called the Science Center, who called my parents. We had a meeting where I was told to leave him alone.” You don’t really know humiliating until you’re stuck in your boss’s office with your parents while your supervisor and the human resource person tell you that you’re engaging in stalker behavior that is “not acceptable.”

The only person who seemed more embarrassed than me was my dad, who could have gone his entire life without knowing that I had any kind of sex life at all. These were the kinds of parenting issues that he felt were securely my mom’s domain. But she didn’t want this problem either. My mom just kept repeating: “I don’t know why you told us you were dating this boy.”

Because I’d thought we were dating! And even when he’d made it clear we weren’t, I wasn’t ready to let go. My mom had been thrilled I had a boyfriend. At last I was doing something that she understood. We’d gone shopping and she’d even taken me to Planned Parenthood so I could get on the pill. Now this was turning into something else I’d done that made no sense to her. I couldn’t even date normally. Whereas if Connor had really broken my heart, she would have loved that.

“Your mom said you were quite hurt.”

I nodded. She knew I was hurt, but she didn’t understand it. She would have tackled me being dumped like a regular person by buying ice cream and sitting on the edge of my bed, rubbing my back while I cried it out. She’d tell me how I’d find someone better, and she’d squeeze out at least two or three blog posts about the pain of watching your kid go through heartache and how to be supportive. Picking Up the Pieces: Top Ten Ways to Help Your Kids Put Their Heart Back Together After a Breakup. Or Five Activities You Can Do with Your Kids to Raise Them Up When They’re Down.

But she had no idea what to do with a relationship that had been one-sided. Mom had been okay with imaginary friends when I was a kid, but imaginary relationships as a teenager struck her as pathetic, maybe pathological.

“But you still decided to come on this trip,” Detective Sharma said, her voice hinting at her confusion as to my motives.

“My mom wanted me to. She thought it was the best way for me to get over him. To move on.”

“And have you moved on?”

My brain scrambled to think of the answer the detective wanted from me. “I’m trying,” I managed to finally say. It was the truth, too. Time had made a difference. I realized that what I’d felt for Connor had been all about insecurity. Alex had shown me relationships could be different. That someone who really matters makes you feel better about yourself, not worse.

But then I heard the bell above the door chime as Alex rushed out of the coffee shop. Detective Sharma and I both watched him as he disappeared into the crowds on the sidewalk. I felt my heart drag after him, the connection to him growing thinner and threatening to snap.





Twenty


August 23


8 Days Remaining


I promised Detective Sharma I would notify her before leav-ing the city and caught up to Alex. He was walking quickly back toward Metford. His shoulders were hunched up around his ears. I tugged on the back of his shirt.

“Wait up.”

He stopped and I heard him sigh before he turned around.

“I can explain,” I said, not certain that I could.

“Why did you tell me you dated Connor? I don’t get it. First you don’t say anything, then you confess he was your ex, and now I hear you weren’t ever dating. I don’t understand.”

“Things were . . . complicated.” I couldn’t come up with anything better.

Alex crossed his arms over his chest. “But things with me aren’t supposed to be complicated. Why not tell me the truth?”

“Because I can’t handle the truth!” I burst out. “The truth is, I slept with him. I thought we were dating, I thought he was my boyfriend, but it was never that. It was just sex and I was too stupid to know it.”

A woman walking along the sidewalk paused as if she wanted to hear more.

Alex took my elbow and led me down the block, away from the people around us who were now staring. “You’re not stupid,” he said at last.

The fight bled out of me. No matter how much I tried to run away from the situation, it kept catching up to me. What did you call someone who slept with a guy an hour after he kissed her for the first time and then didn’t even realize that the only reason he kept seeing her was more sex? I didn’t always like myself, but I’d always seen myself as smart, and this made me face the fact that I wasn’t. At least not smart about people. “I wanted to believe he liked me.”