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Authors: Juliana Stone

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meteor shower?

I relaxed a bit. My face felt tight, and I was glad it was dark

because I was pretty sure I looked awful. My eyes felt swollen,

my tongue thick, and I knew how blotchy my pale skin got

when I was upset.

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Juliana Ston e

I felt Nate’s warm breath along the top of my head and turned

slightly, resting on his chest with my eyes closed. I never wanted to leave here. If I could stay in his arms forever, I would, because right now, his forever was safe.

Several long moments passed. My chest tightened and then

released as a wave of memories and images from that day crashed

into me. I had only talked about it once, and even then, all of

the little things— the things that mattered— I’d kept to myself.

But I didn’t want to do that anymore.

“Malcolm was full of summer, you know? He looked like my

dad, with wavy, blond hair and these big blue eyes that pretty

much guaranteed he got away with a lot. He had dimples,

freckles across his nose, and he bit the inside of his cheek sometimes. It used to drive my mom batty.”

That was an understatement. My mom had tried everything

to get him to stop, but nothing worked.

“It was hot that day.”

Nate stiffened, inhaling deeply and then exhaling as he

continued to stroke my head and hold me.

My eyes were squeezed shut, and though I was here with

Nathan, in Louisiana, in my mind I was back in New York

City. I saw the blinding, relentless sun and felt the heat on

my cheeks as I hurried down the sidewalk so fast Malcolm

could barely keep up. He’d worn a Batman T- shirt and faded

cargo shorts.

I smelled the exhaust from the buses and taxis and cars.

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Sausage from the vendors. Garbage piled up in the streets,

waiting for the trucks to drive by and collect.

That afternoon, I’d been full of resentment and annoyance,

and it killed me to remember those particular things. But I had

to. I needed to get it out. I needed for Nate to understand even

if I didn’t.

Because Nate’s pain was as real as mine, and maybe he could

be saved. Maybe he’d never get to the place where I had been.

“It was wicked hot in the city, like record heat, and he wanted

to go to the park. He’d bugged me about it all morning until

I snapped. I thought he was doing it just because he knew I

wanted to stay home. God, there was a
Walking
Dead
marathon on, and I hadn’t seen the show yet. I just wanted to chill and

watch it with my best friend, who was in the Hamptons with

her family.”

I thought of my friend Kate. We would spend hours texting

each other when we weren’t together. Boys. Songs. Gossip.

But that day it was gonna be about zombies, and I hadn’t seen

her since the week before so I was looking forward to painting

my toenails, watching the zombies, and sharing all of it with her.

“Malcolm knew I didn’t want to go, but he didn’t care. I

guess most seven- year- olds are kind of selfish that way.”

I could have said no. I could have told Malcolm that the

smog and humidity wasn’t good for his asthma. But I didn’t. At

the time I thought, “okay, you little twerp. We’ll see how much

you like it when you have trouble breathing.”

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Juliana Ston e

It was mid- July, and there were weeks ahead of us. With

Mom and Dad working until vacation in August, weeks where I

was in charge. I wanted to teach him a lesson. I just didn’t know it would all go so wrong.

“I remember Mick, the guy who sold sausages on the corner

near the park, telling us we were crazy to be out.” I paused. “He was right.”

I had marched by, glaring at the back of Malcolm’s golden

head, and I had thought, “you little shit. Just wait, buddy. You

should have listened to me.”

“The funny thing was, when we got to the park, there were a lot

of kids out. It was like a switch had been turned on or something.

Malcolm gave me the biggest hug. His arms were thin— God,

they looked like spaghetti noodles— but he was strong. He whis-

pered in my ear, ‘I love you, Roe,’ and just like that, he made me feel like a total bitch for not wanting to bring him. I roughed up his hair a bit and told him he had an hour, tops.”

I paused, overwhelmed, and then whispered. “He was fine with

an hour. After all that, an hour at the park was enough for him.”

Malcolm had run to the swings while I found a grassy spot

under a tree and sat down. It was maybe a few degrees cooler but

still so hot. I’d brought a book and lay down on my stomach to

read. I didn’t mean to fall asleep; it just kind of happened. I read a few pages. Texted with Kate and then closed my eyes.

“I would give anything,” my voice broke, “
anything
to have not fallen asleep. I remember waking up and not knowing where

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I was at first. I felt the breeze, smelled the grass, and heard the kids shrieking and giggling as they ran through the water pad on

the other side of the swings. I don’t know when I realized that

something was wrong.”

I shrugged and burrowed deeper into Nate’s arms.

“Maybe it’s why I woke up in the first place. Some weird

sense that something was wrong.”

I paused again, remembering how my stomach fell all the

way to the ground and took me with it.

“I looked everywhere for Malcolm…but he was gone. I was

frantic, yelling his name and shouting at the kids like a lunatic.

This mother came over to me and asked me what was wrong.

When I told her that my brother was missing, she looked around

and then she shook my shoulders. She asked me when I’d seen

him last and I told her…I told her that I’d fallen asleep and

then I couldn’t speak anymore. The look in her eyes…I’ll never

forget. She knew I had let it happen.”

I thought that I was all cried out, but hot tears burned my

itchy, blotchy skin.

“I screamed in her face. I yelled, ‘It’s not my fault,’ but it was.

And then when I found his inhaler in my bag, I just knew that

something bad had happened. It was too hot. He needed his

inhaler. By this time, the place was crawling with cops. I don’t

know who called them. It wasn’t me. But they were there and

they were asking me questions, and every time they did, I saw

that woman’s face. I saw her accusation.”

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My voice broke.

“I saw the truth.”

“Oh God, Monroe. You don’t have to do this,” Nate breathed

into me, his nose near mine, his dark eyes shiny.

But I did.

“They found him almost immediately, in the trees that cut

through the park. I think he was trying to get back to me because he was in trouble, but I was asleep and totally unaware. I bet he yelled for me. He had to have, and sometimes I hear him, you

know? I hear him screaming, ‘Roe, where are you? Come get me!’

“He was already gone when they found him, and by then

my mother had made it to the park.” I shook violently at the

memory. At the sound of my mother wailing. At the image of

her pounding her fists into the police officer’s chest. Her nails were scarlet. Blood red and pointy.

Funny the details you remember.

“The coroner told my parents later that he died because of a

severe asthma attack, and I remember my mom asking about his

inhaler. ‘Where was his inhaler?’ she kept asking, saying it over and over. I could never answer, but I think that she knows. I’ve

never told her or my dad that I had his inhaler. That I still have his inhaler. I never told them that…”

I clung to Nathan, trying to block out the sounds of Malcolm’s

cries and the images of his face. My chest was so tight I could

barely breathe, but eventually it fell away and I was nothing but a limp bag of bones and flesh.

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“Jesus, Monroe. I’m so, so sorry.”

I was hollow. Spent.

“Yeah,” I answered slowly. “Me too.”

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Chapter Twenty- Two
Nathan

I woke up because the sun was in my eyes. It wavered for a bit

and then disappeared again.

Shit. It was morning, and we were still in the maze. My hair

was damp from the dew, but with Monroe still in my arms,

burrowed beneath the blanket I’d brought, I was warm and dry.

It felt right somehow to be here with her, and I realized that

for the first time in a long time, I was exactly where I wanted

to be.

I don’t think I slept much, but then how could I? I was

still so angry for Monroe. I wanted to punch something. I

wanted to smash and destroy and get rid of the anger inside

me. It had festered and pulled real hard, just like it had the

night after my accident when I’d woken up in the hospital,

and Trevor didn’t.

But I did none of that. I held Monroe until she’d fallen asleep,

and then with no one but the lonesome owl nearby to hear me,

I cried like a baby.

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Juliana Ston e

I cried for a little boy I’d never met and his sister who had

come to mean everything to me in the space of a few weeks. I

cried for Trevor. For his mom and dad. I cried like I hadn’t cried since I was a kid in fourth grade and my collie, Abram, died.

The bus had pulled up to my driveway, and there he was, lying

in the middle of the road, killed by a car or truck.

I had to pull Abram out of the way for the bus driver, and I

remember dragging his big body all the way to the porch, where

I sat and cried until my dad came home.

We never got another dog after that, because me and my

parents couldn’t deal with the dying thing. Still couldn’t. Here I was, nearly eighteen and still having trouble.

Everything fell out of me, and no one witnessed it except

whoever the hell was up there, looking down on us. I wasn’t sure

if I liked him or not. I mean, what kind of God lets shit like this happen to little boys?

What kind of God lets someone like me get behind the wheel

and destroy his best friend?

“Shit,” I muttered, wincing as a ray of light fell into the center of the maze again, hitting me in the face like a big F U.

I guess it was his way of telling me that
He
didn’t let any of us do anything. If we screwed up, it was on us. We had to own it.

We could think. We could do.

It was up to us to make the right choices, but maybe it was

up to Him to help with the fallout.

Maybe it was Him who had sent Monroe to me.

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Or maybe it was just fate.

Or maybe none of it was real. Maybe none of it mattered.

Maybe I was so tired I couldn’t think straight.

I tried to wiggle my legs a bit because my muscles were tight

and cramped, but all I did was manage to send shooting pains

up my thighs and to wake up Monroe.

She moved against me, her hair a wild mess that spilled over

my chest. It took a few seconds to clear it from her face, and

when she did, her eyes, those pale, crystal clear eyes, gazed up at me in a way that made my heart twist.

“Hey,” she said, her voice raspy.

I didn’t answer because nothing seemed to be big enough. No

one word or phrase could cover what I was feeling. Instead, I

bent forward and kissed her forehead, my hand seeking her jaw,

and then I brushed the softness of her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

I nodded and just held her for as long as I could. She didn’t

say anything else, and I was cool with that. Somehow, it was

easier to confess and reveal when you were in the dark, but here

in the early dawn, it was harder.

For now, holding her was enough. At least, I hoped it was

enough for Monroe, because I would do anything to take away

the pain I’d seen the night before.

Anything.

“Oh my God!” She squirmed and sat up. “We’ve been out

here all night!”

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Juliana Ston e

Monroe rolled over and was on her knees before I had a

chance to do or say anything.

“Gram is…I don’t know what Gram is gonna say, but I need

to get to the house now. Maybe she won’t know I left. Maybe

she’s still in bed.”

I nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

It was Monday and I was due to be here in an hour or

so anyway. I figured it was around six in the morning. I

would have enough time to go home, eat breakfast, shower,

and then start my day. But before I could do that, I had to

make sure things were going to be cool between Monroe and

her grandmother.

The meteor shower had been my idea, and though I hadn’t

meant for us to fall asleep, I liked waking up with Monroe in my

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