One Moment (12 page)

I stared down at the lined notebook paper in front of me. At the thick black ink staining the page, the scientific terms and definitions I was trying to memorize all blurring together. I wished with everything in me that I could slide full speed down the neck of the
J
I’d drawn in the bottom corner of the page, fling myself off the hooked end, and flip into another existence.

But there was no other existence. My life consisted of quick glances, open arms, hushed whispers, pointing fingers, tear-soaked cheeks—all of which were about two seconds away from causing me to lose it.

I wanted out.

A free pass out of my body and mind.

During the last nine days, I’d been continuously hoping for some escape.

A way to release everything.

If only I’d known that the wish might backfire, bring me more pain, I might have taken it back. But I didn’t know. Not as I sat there pressing the tip of my pen into the groove of the
J
. Not as the door behind me opened and another person stepped into the small conference room of the guidance office. Not as Nolan Holiday plopped his backpack next to me and sat on the rolly-wheeled chair to my left.

“Glad you’re back,” he said, running a hand through his longish brown hair. “This whole office aide gig has been lame without you.” He ducked his head, meeting my eyes for a split second before deciding it would be better to stare at the floor.

“Can’t say I’ve missed it,” I said, looking through the large windowed wall as a skinny freshman boy juggling a load of books walked in from the hall and up to the secretary’s desk.

“You missed a lot of drama,” Nolan said, his eyes sparkling with deviousness before turning dark. “Oh. I didn’t mean … God, that was stupid.”

“I coulda guessed that about the drama part.”

“I was talking about our favorite budding romance. The one that was cut short.” He grinned, slicing a finger across his throat. Then his eyes dimmed again. “Shit, man. Should I just shut my mouth?”

“Awkward is my new normal,” I said, knowing how to put on a well-rehearsed, I’m-just-fine face. It was worth it just to avoid everyone’s strings of questions (
How are you holding up? Are you taking care of yourself? Can I do anything?
) and the general awkwardness that Joey’s death had left behind.

“That blows,” he said. “The whole thing just bl—”

“It’s okay,” I said, leaning back in my swivel chair and facing Nolan Holiday head-on. “I know you’re talking about Mr. and Mrs. Sophomore Suck Face, and I’d love a distraction, so please fill me in.”

“Sweet. I’ve been dying to tell you.” Nolan clapped his hands and rubbed them together, leaning forward. “Mrs. Suck Face’s father came in, demanding to know how a picture of his daughter being, and I quote,
felt up
in the school hallway managed to be taken and posted on Facebook.”

“No way,” I said. “Did you see the picture?”

“Hell, no,” Nolan rolled his eyes. “As if I have any interest in a flat-chested sophomore? But Mrs. Suck Face’s father was quite entertaining as he met with the guidance counselors and Principal Edwards, demanding to know how such behavior could possibly occur in an educational environment.”

“What’d they say to that?” I asked, grabbing my purse and riffling through the contents.

“The wall interfered.” Nolan tipped his head toward the wall separating the small conference room, where we were, from the larger one. “All I heard after that first part was mumbling. Until the end, when Mrs. Suck Face’s father stormed out, saying that the administration had better make it more of a priority to monitor the students in the building.”

“Oh, God,” I said, plucking a pack of gum from under my iPod. “That’s pathetic. He’d rather blame someone else than face the problem that’s right in front of him.”

“Thought you’d enjoy a detailed description.” Nolan smiled, his eyes catching mine as I unwrapped my piece of gum and popped it into my mouth.

“Thanks. Nice three-minute distraction.” I smiled and held the pack of gum between us. “Want one?”

Nolan grabbed a piece, his fingers grazing mine and pulling back as though he’d been shocked, like he was afraid he could catch death from me. The thought of electricity running between us sent a shiver of something familiar through my body. I shook it off, though, forcing myself to stay in the moment.

“You okay, then?” Nolan asked as he slowly pulled the silver wrapper off his piece of gum.

“I’m not gonna freak out or anything,” I said, hoping that would remain true. Somehow, over the past week, I had gone from being on the brink of freak-out ninety-nine percent of the time to about … seventy-five percent of the time. Until, of course, some random thing brought Joey rushing back. At first, I never thought I’d get used to the idea of Joey’s death, but it had settled over me like a fine mist. It had started to feel like reality instead of a bad dream. “It sucks. But I’m dealing.”

Nolan looked up at me, his head still tilted down a bit, his brown eyes searching mine for any hint of truth or lie. “Yeah?”

I shrugged.

Nolan shoved his gum into his mouth and crushed the wrapper up into a tiny ball, staring down at one of the blue tile squares on the floor. “It’s just weird,” Nolan said. “The whole death thing. Everyone’s talking about the last time they saw him or talked to him.”

I scooted forward on the seat of my rolly chair, inching toward him, longing for one more slice of Joey’s life to add to the patchwork of memories I had begun to assemble. Wishing I had access to my last seconds with him, hoping I would remember soon, that I would finally find the full truth and have my own story to tell in moments like these.

Nolan looked at me, his eyes watery and reddening. “Sorry. That’s probably the last place you wanna go.”

“No!” My voice bounced off the walls, too loud for the room. “I want to know as much as I can. Any new memory, even if it’s not mine…. They all seem to help, you know?”

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “Will you tell me? Everything you remember from the last time you saw him?”

Nolan shook his head. “It’s really nothing, though.”

“Please,” I said, something desperate flaring, and surging, and spreading through my body. “It’s crazy, I know, but it helps keep him alive just a little longer when I hear other people’s stories.”

Nolan swung his head to the side and wiped his eyes.

“Did you see him the night of Dutton’s party?” I asked, hope blossoming in my chest. Maybe Nolan was the key to finding out what Joey had been doing after he taken me, Shannon, and Pete home.

“No, I was out of town that weekend with my parents, picking my brother up from college. Heard the party was a blast, though.” Nolan leaned back in his seat and propped his hands behind his head, elbows splayed outward. “Last time I saw Joey, actually talked to him, I mean, was at the Spring Carnival.”

I shook my head, trying to jar the words loose before they took root. “Joey wasn’t at the carnival.”

Nolan’s eyes creased. “Yeah. He was.”

“You must have mistaken someone else for him,” I said with a forced laugh, feeling a nervous tingle flash through my body. “He went to a Reds game with his dad that night. Killer tickets, or something like that.”

“Oh.” Nolan’s entire face crinkled up and he looked away, dropping his hands into his lap. “Okay. I must’ve been wrong.” He pulled himself up to the desk and grabbed his backpack, opening the front pouch and taking out a blue pen like he was ready to end the conversation and start his homework. As if Nolan
ever
did homework during our office aide period.

I reached for his hand, stopping him. “Well, maybe Joey came late.” I glanced up at the ceiling, trying to look confused or thoughtful or something that would keep Nolan talking. “I was kinda drunk.” I giggled, as if what I said had been funny.

Nolan squinted, looking unsure. “It
was
late.”

“God,” I said, smacking Nolan on the arm, needing that memory. “You’re acting so weird. Just tell me already.”

“Right. Okay.” Nolan sat back in his chair, click-click-clicking the top of his blue pen. “I had to work that night, so I got to the carnival late. It was dark already, and there were about a zillion cars in the parking lot, all lit up from the flashing lights on the rides.”

I flipped back to that night in an instant—it had been several weeks ago, one of the last days in April. Tanna, Shannon, and I had vowed to ride every ride before we left. Pete and Adam had laughed at us, saying we were acting like we were ten again. And then Shannon almost puked while we all were on one of those spinning things where the floor drops away from your feet. So we abandoned our plan, laughing as we passed a stick of pink cotton candy among us, leaving Pete and Adam behind.

“I had to park in the back of the lot, where it was super dark and shadowy,” Nolan continued. “That’s where I saw his truck.”

I wanted to stop Nolan there. To tell him that all kinds of people drove black trucks and it would have been easy to mistake Joey’s for someone else’s. Especially in the dark. But I was afraid that if I spoke again, I’d ruin my chance to hear the story. A story I was certain was wrong. A story I wanted to deconstruct so I could prove that Joey was exactly where he had said he’d been. Because one thing I knew for certain was that Joey was
not
at that carnival.

“I didn’t see him at first,” Nolan said, “but when I walked by the truck, Joey shot his arm out of the driver’s side window and grabbed my shoulder. Scared the living shit out of me.”

“So, you actually
did
see him?
Talked
to him?” I sucked in a deep breath and held it. I couldn’t keep breathing. Not with this in the air.

“Yeah … I mean, it was only for a few minutes. He gave me some shit about how I squealed like a little girl. I made fun of him for hiding in the shadows. Then I promised I’d get him back when he wasn’t looking. That kind of thing. I told him he’d had a good game the night before. I remember that part. I also remember how, the whole time we were talking, he kept looking in his rearview and checking his phone. I just figured he was …”

“What?” I asked, holding a shaky hand in the air.

“I figured he was in trouble with you over something.” Nolan shrugged. “I didn’t want any drama, so I said
later
and walked away.”

My heart was about to explode. Joey really was at the carnival? Why hadn’t he told me?

“He was, wasn’t he?” Nolan asked. “In the doghouse?”

“No.” I shook my head. I felt as if it might swim away from my body.

“Oh, shit, I knew I shoulda kept my mouth shut.”

“No. It’s okay. I asked. I just wish I knew what had him so bothered, is all.”

“Don’t know.” Nolan chewed his gum so hard it seemed like he wanted to pulverize it.

“Strange.” I tugged at a strand of my hair and wrapped it around my finger, pulling harder and harder until I felt pain. “That’s all?” I asked. “You don’t remember anything else?”

Nolan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I never woulda—”

“Nolan, it’s fine. Totally fine.” I shrugged. “He must have been waiting to surprise me. Give me a ride or something. But Tanna took me home, and her car was, like, right up front. We got a great spot. So he wouldn’t have seen me.” I sounded pathetic, more pathetic than Mrs. Suck Face’s father, the king of avoiding what’s right before your eyes, and we both knew it. Whatever had brought Joey to the carnival that night had been something he’d intentionally kept to himself. Just like whatever he’d been doing after he dropped me off the night of Dutton’s party.

“Right.” Nolan slid his chair forward and tugged a notebook from his backpack, flipping it open without looking at me. He clicked his pen one last time. “Makes complete sense.”

But it didn’t.

It made no sense at all.

Not unless Joey was keeping major secrets.

As I sat there hearing echoes of the carnival music, feeling the breeze drift across the heat of my cheeks, tasting the sweet fire of the raspberry vodka we had poured into our sodas, I wondered…. What else had Joey been hiding from me?

And more importantly, why?

9

Forget You

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” I tipped my head against the cool glass of the passenger-side window, closing my eyes against the bright sunlight that was trying to convince me it was a happy kind of day. “It’s just weird.”

“Maggie, the police said you have to be evaluated.” My mother sighed.

“You’re taking the easy way out, blaming them,” I said, looking right at her.

“You want me to tell you that I think it’s a good idea?” My mother slowed our black Hyundai Tucson to a stop at a red light in downtown Blue Springs. “You suffered a major trauma, Maggie. And you’re dealing with memory loss. I think this is the best—”

“Really?” I asked. “Did you even look at those intake forms? The questions are for someone who’s really messed up, Mom. Not me.”

“No one’s saying you’re messed up, hon. Just that you need a little help with all that’s happened.”

“What I need,” I said, “is
Joey
.”

I swiveled my head so I wouldn’t have to look at my mother. I couldn’t get a handle on my emotions. Part of me felt relieved that I might be a few hours away from some answers.
If
this woman could help me access my memories, which was a big
if
. I’d been trying nonstop on my own when I was alone in my room, focusing on what I knew for certain. But I had yet to uncover anything new. The other part of me was just plain scared. What if talking about everything made it all feel worse? I wasn’t sure I could handle worse. It might break me all the way.

“I know this is scary for you. I’m still asking you to give it a try.”

“Asking?” I tilted my head toward the window again. “As if I have a choice?”

We spent the rest of the ride in silence, moving beyond the center of Blue Springs, with a Dairy Queen on one corner and a 7-Eleven on the other, through miles of corn and soybean fields.

The ride relaxed me, put me in a trancelike state. I focused on the things that didn’t hurt. The trees, how they were so thick they looked stronger than I ever expected to feel. The wide fields, so green they almost shimmered. The deep blue sky, so vast and open, it felt like I could dive right through its surface and disappear.