Authors: Gina Linko
And I had to do all this without falling in love with him.
After lunch, I left for the library, with no new ideas for my search but determined to not just waste the day. As I walked down the slushy sidewalk in front of the Broken Egg, I noticed a figure ahead of me. A tall, thin girl. Glasses. The darkest hair. Wearing all black, dark against the snow.
She was here. Gia.
Oh my God
. I froze. She had tracked me down. My stomach plummeted. My head spun. Who else knew I was here? I felt a zillion different things as I watched her walk down the sidewalk, eyeing the different storefronts.
She spotted me then. She dropped her silver backpack and came barreling at me, tears in her eyes. “Emery!” She wrapped her arms around me, nearly bowling me over with her hug. “Don’t you ever do that to me again! Dammit! You left me!”
She pulled back and looked me in the eye. I had all this righteous indignation pent up in me. I was so ready to be mad at her, to give her the cold shoulder, but she had the gall to be mad at me.
“How could you just leave? Only a crappy email to say you’re okay? You ran away, and you weren’t going to call me or tell me where? Nothing?”
I took a step back then, straightened my shoulders, found my voice. “But, Gia, you didn’t believe me.”
Gia froze. Her face fell, and she shrank back into herself. “I know. I had a momentary lapse in judgment. So sue me.”
“Gia, you—” I wasn’t going to let her off that easy.
“I was pissed, okay?”
“
You
were pissed?”
“I wanted to take you out, take you to a party, give you a good time. I just wanted to see you be happy for a little while and forget what was happening to you.” She looked down now. “I know it’s selfish.”
“But you said you didn’t believe me. Do you have any idea how much it meant to me when you
did
believe me?”
Gia didn’t look up. She reached beneath her glasses and rubbed one eye. She looked like she was choosing her words carefully. “I think, Emery, it’s sometimes easier in the moment to decide
not
to believe you. To think that it’s not true. To hope that it’s all something else. ’Cause maybe then it’d be easier for them to save you.”
I let out a sigh. I knew what it was like to want to ignore something. Pretend it wasn’t real.
“I’m sorry, Emery.” Gia finally met my gaze.
I hugged her.
“How did you find me?” We walked over toward her backpack, grabbed it, and she hooked her arm through mine. I led her to the square, and we sat on the concrete bench from the first day I’d been here.
“Your pink notebook.”
My mind flashed back to that notebook, sitting atop a pile of similar notebooks in my closet. “I wrote what in there?”
“You wrote—”
“Esperanza.”
“It took a few days before I could get over to your place without anybody knowing. But I took a chance. Drove up here. Prayed I could find you. Been hanging around here all day, hoping to catch a break.”
“Does Dad know? Did you tell anybody or—”
“No. Of course not. Because I
do
believe you, Emery. Now. And I guess I always did. It’s just, your father …” Gia’s face darkened. “They are questioning people. Me. There were these men with badges and ridiculously stern faces and CIA haircuts. It’s all totally creepy.”
I considered this, feeling terror grip my belly—terror that I might be found out, that I might have to leave Esperanza before I was ready. “How’d you get into my room?”
“Your garage code.”
“And you don’t think Dad found that notebook first? Saw the word
Esperanza
?”
“I think even if they saw it, it might not mean anything. It just stuck out to me, though. And then I Googled it.”
“They questioned people?”
“Yeah, it’s kinda crazy. Loretta, everyone. They questioned me in your dad’s office. It all felt very
Law and Order
.”
“Oh, Gia, I’m sorry.”
“No, stop it. I didn’t rat you out. I didn’t even have any information then.”
I knew I had to ask about my father. I didn’t want to. I
didn’t want to think about him. “I didn’t want to hurt Dad, Gia. Is he okay, or—”
“He’s mad.” Gia pursed her lips.
“What else? What aren’t you telling me?”
“The guys. Your dad. They scared me, Emery. I think that this whole thing is bigger than you or I think it is.”
I thought about this for a moment. Gia grabbed my hand, gave it a squeeze. As we sat in the snow-covered square of Esperanza Beach, the sounds of traffic and distant laughter ringing through the air, my father and his threats seemed far away, unreal. But I knew that this was a false sense of security.
“Let’s get something to eat,” I said. “And you are going to just love the place I’m staying.”
“Four stars?” Gia asked.
“Something like that.”
Gia tiptoed around Dala Cabin and shed her coat, her shoes, throwing them wherever. She flopped on the bed. “It’s just when you said you wanted
choices
, I hadn’t quite pictured that you would choose
this
.”
“I know you’d probably go for more of the room service, facials, and massage territory. But my boy in the loops, he told me to come here. Showed me to this place.”
Gia sat up then, her eyes on me.
I unwrapped the “pasties” we had bought from Heaven
at Betsy’s, and I got out a couple of cans of Coke, some plates and napkins, setting everything on the table. I kept my eyes from Gia’s. I was nervous. Because here it was again. Did she really believe me?
“Tell me all of it, Emery.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Emery, I do.”
“I don’t know, Gia,” I said, considering. Was she going to run back and tell Dad? I didn’t think so. But …
“Please? I’ll spit-shake, just like when we were little. I’m so sorry, Emery.” She spit into her palm all businesslike, just the way we used to, then reached her hand out to me.
I considered for a long moment, still unsure. But I spit into my palm, shook her hand. “That’s really kind of disgusting.”
“Yeah,” she laughed.
I wiped my hand on my jeans. “Gia, it’s all so weird. It’s like I was being called here.”
“A quest. Very
Lord of the Rings
. Go on.”
I nodded. There was an edge, a sliver of doubt in me, wondering if I could or should trust Gia. She came and sat with me at the table, and we both took a big bite of our pasties. Gia raised her eyebrows. “This is good!”
“It is!” I said. “Like a handheld chicken potpie.”
“All it needs is a stick.”
“Not this again,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Not every food would be improved should it be on a stick.”
“We agree to disagree. Portability. Yumminess.”
“Cheesecake on a stick. Lasagna on a stick.”
“Exactly.” We laughed then, and I took another bite of my pasty. We talked for a while, about home, about Chaney, school. And I decided to trust her. We sat in the dim afternoon light of my cabin, and I told her about my boy, about the key, about the church, about it all. Everything except Ash. I told myself I kept him a secret because he wasn’t that big a piece of the puzzle, that he was no big deal. But truthfully, even as I was talking, I wondered if I was just keeping it, keeping him close, well, because I didn’t want to put words to Ash, to us. Like this connection between us was too important, too fragile to dissect in a conversation. And I couldn’t bear the idea of losing any of the hope that seemed wrapped up between Ash and me.
“Well, you’ve certainly done it,” Gia said, wiping her mouth and taking a swig of her Coke.
“What’s that?”
“You’ve made your own choices, Emery. You’re here.”
“You think I’m crazy.”
“No, just brave. Braver than I could ever be. I’m proud of you.”
I flushed a little. “Gia, that’s not true.”
“I wish I could help you. I mean, what do you think you’re going to find? Do you think your boy is out there right now, needing you, or—”
“I don’t know.” My voice sounded flat, worried. “I really hope he’s okay.”
“Come on,” Gia said, pulling me off the chair. “We gotta get you a phone.”
“A phone? Why?”
“ ’Cause I have to leave, like, soon, get back home, and I’m gonna be a mental case if I have to think about you living up here in this cabin and I can’t get in touch with you and vice versa. I mean, what if I have a boyfriend emergency?” Gia smirked, and I knew that she was just making light of the situation. She was worried about leaving me, my loops, my life being on the line.
“Okay.” Because I could think of no way to make Gia feel better about this. My life
was
on the line.
At Hansen’s General, we ran into Rob from the library, who gave me a shy hello. Gia introduced herself and pretended to grab his butt as he walked away. I rolled my eyes and quickly headed toward the cell phones I had seen the other day. Gia picked out this yellow utilitarian-looking cell phone that looked like it could survive deep-sea diving and a trip through a volcano. “It’s disposable, ya know. One of those kind of ready-to-go, three-hundred-minute deals.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“But it has texting included,” she said, flipping over the box. “ ’Cause God knows I gotta text you.”
I took out my money to pay at the register, but Gia wouldn’t hear of it. And on the way out of the store, she shoved a wad of bills from her wallet into my coat pocket. “I know you’re not using cards, you don’t want a trail. You
gotta take my money. I withdrew a bunch, knowing I was coming here. I don’t know how else to help.”
“Gia, really, I have enough—”
“Live the high life out here in Esperanza. Buy yourself two pasties instead of one. A pair of designer snowshoes.”
Gia’s VW traversed the snowy road toward the cabin better than I thought it would. “Thanks for coming here, Gia,” I said, my voice sounding more serious than I’d intended.
“Emery, of course. Don’t say another word about it.”
“I don’t want to sound all dramatic or—”
“Don’t. ’Cause it just sounds like you’re saying goodbye to me. Don’t do it. You’re going to be fine somehow. Okay?”
“I will,” I told her, because she needed to hear it. She looked so fragile then, her pale skin against her dark lashes, so young, compared to the weathered reflection I saw in the mirror lately. And I knew instantly that I had to do this for Gia. She needed me to do this. “Gia, I really think this is all going to turn out okay. I just need some time to—”
“Really?” She brightened. “You think you might figure all this out, come back and—”
“Yeah,” I lied. “Come back home with some proof, something, get the doctors to see my point.”
“Yeah?” Gia squealed. “You’ll be home in no time!” And I envied her there in that moment, that she could still talk herself into this, still lie to herself, still hope in this way.
It felt good to keep her from the worst of it.
As we pulled in near the cabin, my shoulders tensed. Ash was sitting by the fire pit, like he was waiting for us, for me.
Gia slowed the car, and I could feel her eyes on my face. “Spill it, Emery. You know this guy. Your ears are red.”
“Oops. I think I left out a little something.” Ash stood up then, tipping his hat toward us.
“Yes, a very handsome cowboy something.”
Gia popped open her car door, and I followed quickly. “Exciting!” she squealed.
“Hi,” I said to Ash, feeling guilty somehow.
“Hi.”
“I’m Gia,” she offered, shaking Ash’s hand.
I bristled, knowing the conversation that I would have to have later with Gia, wishing I didn’t have to explain Ash to her, not wanting to have to justify any of it.
I unlocked the cabin door as Ash introduced himself to Gia. We stepped inside. I was aware that my ears were burning with embarrassment over how transparent I must look to Gia. Ash didn’t meet my eyes. He was holding something close to his chest, something wriggling inside his coat.
“I just … I brought you something.” He was embarrassed. Surely he hadn’t counted on Gia’s presence. He produced a snowy white kitten, with one black paw and a black spot over her right eye and ear.
“She was a barn cat, the runt of the litter. I just thought … For you.”
I was momentarily caught off guard. He brought me a
cat. My eyes flitted to Gia, who was trying desperately to quell her giddiness. She reached over and petted the cat.
“Th-thank you,” I stammered as I grabbed the fluffball from Ash. I scratched the kitten behind her ears. “Hello!” I said. And I pushed my nose toward hers. I greeted her and snuggled her. She was no bigger than a teacup, tiny pink nose, wide green eyes. I caught a glimpse of Ash then. He smiled, beamed really, two scarlet patches high on his cheekbones, and there seemed a lightness to him that wasn’t always there.
“She’s gorgeous,” Gia said, looking from Ash to me. “And wouldn’t you know? I just have to get going. I’m sorry to rush off,” she singsonged, looking from me to Ash.
“Gia, no, you can’t.”
“I have to. My parents will freak soon. I cut school, and I gotta get home before it’s too late.”
“Really?” I said.
Gia gave me a wink. “Really. Plus, I don’t want to give the CIA any reason to come after me.” Gia shot me a look, and I knew she was referring to Dad, his cronies.
“I’ve got the phone,” I told her. I handed the cat to Ash. “I’m just going to walk Gia out.”
Ash nodded, scratching the fluffball behind the ears.
Gia grabbed her backpack and a Coke from the fridge. On the porch steps, I closed the door behind us. “Gia, I was going to tell you about Ash, but it’s a long story and it’s nothing—”
Gia surprised me by hugging me tightly. “I’m so sorry about not believing you. And you don’t have to explain everything to me. You don’t have to explain why you might have befriended a hottie who likes to bring you kittens. No explanation needed.”
“It’s not like that,” I said. I didn’t know what it was like.
“You’re safe here, though, if I go? He’s okay?” Gia gestured toward the cabin. She stopped for a moment on the stoop, considering.
“Yes,” I said. “And thanks for not giving me the third degree, for not—”