The Way Back to You (27 page)

“
F
or wedding crashers, we’re very popular.”

I smile. Across the small ballroom, next to the bar, Sonia’s relatives are chatting up Zoë and Kyle. They’re crowded together in a tight group. Everyone wants to meet Ashlyn’s friends.

Matty and I are sitting together, the only ones left at Table Six. Our accommodating tablemates—who didn’t grumble once when the hotel staff had to squeeze in four extra seats—are back in the buffet line. I scour the room and find Sonia and Paco in the middle of the dark-wood dance floor, their arms wrapped around each other, even though the song coming from the speakers isn’t a slow one. She’s been so focused on making sure we’re comfortable, it’s nice to see her enjoying her own reception.

Maya, Sonia’s sister, rushes by us in a splash of coral satin, eagerly waving hello on her way.

Matty beams. “They love us!”

“Is that why you started the conga line?” I ask, scraping the last bit of mashed potato onto my fork.

“Hey, I’m just living my life to the fullest while I can. Before, you know—” He clanks his wrists together as if they’re handcuffed.

I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t serious about having you arrested.”

“
Smoke
came out of your
ears
, Cloudy. You meant it.”

A surge of laughter by the bar swallows my sigh. This guy in a checkered bow tie has his hand clamped on Kyle’s back, while Zoë hides a grin behind her glass of lemonade.

“Look,” I tell Matty, “I’m incredibly annoyed that you took my sister anywhere without telling me first. But I do appreciate you keeping an eye on her. And I’m really happy you guys are here for this.”

“Me too,” he says, slapping his palms against the tabletop to the beat of the music. It makes the tiny brown-and-orange boxes of chocolate that were next to each plate jump—especially Kyle’s, which is already empty. He traded his dark chocolate truffles for Sonia’s aunt’s chocolate mints. It’s a miracle that not even puking up those cookies could sour Kyle’s love for chocolate mint.

“Matty.” I stare at the centerpiece—a square vase filled with coral roses and hydrangea—and shore up my nerves for what I need to say next. But it’s about time. “I’m sorry for what happened after Ashlyn died. With us. I was so lost and you were—”

“Willing?” he says, his hands going still.

“You made me feel safe again. Everything was so shitty, and being with you helped me forget about her. I was using you to deal with stuff I had no idea how to handle. You were always good to me and I took advantage of it.”

He groans softly, bending his head back, his eyes on the brass chandelier above us. “It wasn’t only your fault. I should have known something was going on when you wanted to start hooking up again. But I guess it felt right, or comfortable, or something. So I didn’t want to ruin it. That’s on me just as much.”

“You did end it first,” I say.

“Well, I am the better person.”

“Clearly.”

“So,” he says, lifting one eyebrow, “are things back to normal with you and Kyle?”

“‘Normal’ is a thorny word.”

Matty nods, scratching the top of his head. “It’s cool if you’re into him.”

My skin flames, but I don’t deny it. Hiding has been exhausting, and I’m done pretending with him. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“I think Ashlyn would be okay with it, too.”

I arch forward, curving over my plate. It’s rimmed with gold lines, and underneath, the tablecloth is the color of champagne. “I’m not so sure.”

“Let’s consider this.” His tone has me shifting to watch him. “The tables are turned, and you’re . . . on the Other Side. If Ashlyn wanted to go out with me—and,
duh
, of course she would—would you be mad?”

The image of Ashlyn ever thinking of Matty
that
way ignites a grin on my lips. “I’d muster all my paranormal mojo to spell out ‘Think it over’ in her Cheerios.”

He bops my forehead with his knuckles. “Come on, Cloudy. Aside from her family, you and Kyle are the people she loved most.”

“Doesn’t that make it worse?”

“The way I see it? I’d want my favorite people to be together.” He shrugs. “I’m not trying to speak for Ashlyn, but if I know anything, it’s that she’d want you to be happy. Like, out-of-your-mind happy. And if any of that happiness involves Kyle, she wouldn’t expect you to sacrifice it.”

I fold and refold the napkin in my lap to make it go away. “And that’s how you feel, too?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Marlowe,” he says, his expression all mock sympathy. “You’re not that hard to get over.”

I laugh, bumping his shoulder with mine.

“KEEP THEM SHUT.” I wriggle my fingers in front of Kyle’s face as a test.

He doesn’t flinch, but he must sense the movement because he smiles. “I won’t open them until you tell me to, I swear.”

Satisfied, I grip his elbow, leading him forward. “You’ll ruin the surprise if you look, and then you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

“As long as you promise not to walk me off a ledge.”

Even though he can’t tell, I smile back. “I promise.”

Kyle’s already caught a small glimpse of the Forum Shops at Caesars Palace, but the reason I wanted to bring him here, of all places, is still a secret. After Matty and Zoë dropped us off out front, Kyle followed me past a replica of the Trevi Fountain,
inside the ornate, Ancient Rome–inspired entrance and up a curved marble staircase to the second floor. That’s when I ordered his eyes closed.

Shoppers part to give us space as I guide Kyle through the most lavish shopping mall I’ve ever been in. The stores are modern, but the setting is totally old-world imperial. Granite pillars are sculpted in the shapes of striking women, and the tall, rounded ceiling is painted like the one at Le Boulevard, a serene blue with filmy white clouds.

I’m a little sorry that Kyle can’t see any of it yet, but more sorry that Zoë and Matty might not see it at all.

Once we’d said our good-byes at the reception, finding Arm became top priority. I couldn’t believe it when Kyle told me she’d taken off. Arm had been totally obedient this entire trip, and she’d chosen last night to start a rebellious phase? The thought of her out there, tiny and on her own, sent bolts of anxiety through me. But Matty insisted that Kyle and I stay out of it while he and Zoë worked up a plan. He was confident that, between the two of them, they would have Arm back to us in no time. Considering what they’d pulled off this weekend, I couldn’t disagree.

I guide Kyle carefully, steering him into another section of stores.

His eyelids are still shut tight when he stops. “Cloudy, can we talk for a minute?”

Over his shoulder, the pathway opens up to a more expansive space. “We’re almost there.”

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

My pulse pounds as I tow him past a fancy jewelry store
and into a corridor off the main hallway. Despite the matching glossy floor, it lacks the grandeur of the rest of this place, so at least it won’t him give any hints about where we are.

Positioning Kyle against a pale yellow wall, I say, “What’s up?”

His eyes blink open, refocusing in the light. “You brought me to a mall?”

“You interrupted the surprise.” I plant my hands on my hips. “So get on with it.”

He straightens up, his gaze locking on mine. “How I acted yesterday was so out of line.”

“You were upset about Shannon.”

“That’s no reason,” he says, shaking his head. “It was like I was gasping for air. I needed to get out of that moment, and it turned into me shouting at you. I suck.”

It would be easy to change the subject and minimize this, but avoidance has gotten me into too many messes. And Kyle’s already reached out to me on this trip—it’s my opportunity to return the favor. So I inhale deeply and go for it.

“I miss Ashlyn.
Monumentally
. Except it turns out I’ve been doing a pretty crappy job.” I twist my hands behind my back. “I guess what I’m saying is . . . I know what it’s like—doing stuff you don’t mean because it feels like the only way you’ll pull through.”

He nods. “We’ll get better at it, though. Right?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I think so.”

With another nod, Kyle slams his eyes shut again and lifts his arm out. “I had to say that before you do another nice thing for me.”

I purse my lips. “I could be trading you in for cash to pay for an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he says, grinning.

He trusts me. The thrill of it flurries in my belly.

“You can keep them open,” I tell him, walking backward.

Together, we turn the corner, and only a few steps later—finally—we’re here. The Fountain of the Gods.

It stands, imposing, in the middle of a large courtyard, the focal point among more shops. Four separate, rounded archways circle the fountain, supported by pillars. Closest to us, a marble armored soldier holds a shield and a spear, and behind him, the god Neptune stands even taller. Streaming water flows noisily and bubbles around the whole thing. It’s Vegas in a nutshell, straddling the line between lavish and tacky, high-end and gaudy.

Kyle studies the area, searching for some clue as to why I’d bring him here. When his eyes latch on to something, I know it’s clicked.

“Pegasus,” he murmurs, his head tilting in every way to take in the whole structure. “And there’s more than one . . .
Pegasi
.”

Without another word, he takes off for one of the winged horses.

“I found it by accident,” I say, following him up to the fountain’s base. Pegasus looks ferocious—way different from the Disney version I grew up on. He’s rearing up on his hind legs, his mane wild and his wings outstretched. “When I was Googling things to do in Vegas last night, this popped up in one of my searches.”

He reaches out to stroke Pegasus’s granite muzzle. “And you wanted to bring me here.”

“You mentioned it in Bedrock City. You said—”

“I remember.”

My head pulls back. “You do?”

“It’s foggy,” he says, sitting below Pegasus on the lip of the fountain, “but yeah.”

“What else do you remember?”

The uplighting is dim and has turned the faux sky above us a dusky blue. Nevertheless, Kyle squints up at me. “More than you think, probably.”

I sit beside him so I won’t have to raise my voice over the fountain. “So you know that we . . . kissed.”

“Oh,” he says, his face blank. That’s it.
Oh.

I’d panic if my body wasn’t flooding with adrenaline.

I drop my phone onto my lap, knotting my fingers together. “It must be something about illegal substances. One of us gets intoxicated and the other is suddenly irresistible.”

Kyle’s expression sharpens. “But I wasn’t intoxicated.”

I choke and cover it with a laugh. “What are you talking about? You couldn’t even stand up on your own.”

“The cookies didn’t kick in until after we left the jailhouse.” His lips part slightly. “Everything before that . . . I was sober. It was me, Cloudy.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

He smiles, bashfully, at a spot between his feet. “So you really were that irresistible.”

“I wasn’t exactly resisting, either.”

“I do also remember that.”

I blush fiercely.

We sit there, quietly staring straight ahead. A family with two small girls stops beside us. Turning their backs to the fountain, they each toss something over their shoulders, into the water. I swivel to peer inside and only then notice the glinting of hundreds of coins resting at the bottom.

When I spin around, Kyle is holding out two pennies. I grin and pick one, before closing my fingers into a fist around it. I guess I was mistaken about not being the wishing type.

And there’s so much to wish for.

But only one thing I want: the chance to get it right. To live without all the heaviness and guilt I’ve been carrying since Ashlyn died. To make sure her memory is a comfort I keep nearby, not something I hide from.

I press the coin into my palm, then fling it into the fountain.

A second later, Kyle does the same. “You know what I wished for at Bedrock City? When we set those lanterns loose?”

“No,” I say.

“That things won’t go back to what they used to be between us. That we’ll be more than ex–lab partners when we go home.” He ducks his head. “I still want that, whatever it means for us.”

He said as much to me on the ground outside of the jailhouse—or something close to it. I figured it was the pot twisting his brain, making him repeat what I’d said to him earlier that night. But I was wrong.

I have never, ever been so relieved to be so wrong.

“So do I,” I tell him. “But isn’t there a rule about wishes? If you tell someone about them, they won’t come true?”

Kyle’s hand slides a microscopic amount along the fountain’s base. As his pinkie wraps around mine, he says, “I think this one will.”

I TUCK MYSELF into a tighter ball so I’ll fit in the armchair, then go back to explaining why I kick ass at cheerleading.

Well, not exactly. So far, most of the preliminary questions for the
Cheer Insider
interview are basic: my GPA, my favorite stunts, any individual honors I’ve received, things like that. The tougher questions, the ones that ask for my favorite competition stories and how I started cheering, they all include Ashlyn. While I’m certain I’ll be able to face those, I assure myself not everything has to be done tonight.

Across the room, Zoë snuggles under the bedsheets, fast asleep. Unfortunately, she and Matty had no success finding Arm this afternoon, so all four of us kept at it until it got too dark outside. After hitting the buffet at the Cosmopolitan, Zoë passed out, but not before claiming she’ll implement Plan B in the morning. Whatever that is.

Folding my legs underneath me, I close out of my phone’s email app and tap on the text message icon. The Claudia Marlowe Apology Tour, as Matty so sympathetically called it, rolls on. But I have things to own up to, and I don’t want to waste a minute.

And Jade is at the top of my list.

You were right. I was pushing everyone away, including you
, I type out to her.
Let’s talk sometime?