He looked at me again. He didn’t say anything but his eyes were easy to read. In them I saw he was calling me a 108
liar without ever saying a word. Laurie would love him.
“It wouldn’t matter if I did,” I said sharply. “It’s not like I can go back.”
“If you could, though? If you could go back and change things a little, make it so Julia would live, would —?”
“You can’t say things like that. You shouldn’t . . . you can’t think like that.” I stood up, shaking. “I don’t think like that.”
“Amy?”
It was Dad. I looked behind me and saw him standing a few feet away, on the lit part of the sidewalk. He looked worried.
I forced myself to smile. His expression relaxed a little, and I knew Patrick was right about one thing. Everyone needed me to be okay.
“You’re right,” Patrick said as I walked away. He was talking quietly but I heard him. “You can’t go back. No matter how much you want to, you never can.”
I didn’t answer him. I didn’t look back. I walked over to Dad and followed him to the car. When I got in I fi ddled with the radio so I could have something to do. So I could pull myself together. I told Dad Patrick was no one when he asked, said he was just a guy in one of my classes who’d asked about homework while I was waiting for Dad to come get me. I said, “No, I’m fine, I’m just not 109
ready to go out yet,” when Dad asked me if I was okay. I said, “I promise, I would tell you if something was bothering me,” when he asked again.
I could see Patrick in the side mirror as we drove away.
He was looking at me. He was just a shadow, dark against dark, but I saw him.
110
114 days
Julia, you—
You knew.
It’s 4:00 a.m., and I’m sitting on the bathroom fl oor. It took me forever to fall asleep because everything Patrick said was rolling around in my head, but I did. I fell asleep and woke up shaking from a dream that wasn’t one, from the memory of your open eyes staring unseeing into mine.
I’m sorry for what I did, and you know that, right? You have to know that. But J, did you—
You knew, didn’t you?
That night, the one where you didn’t want to leave Kevin at that party, you knew what that guy did. I know what you said at the hospital really meant now, J. Why didn’t you say anything that night? Why?
111
No.
You didn’t know.
You couldn’t have known. You were wrapped up in Kevin, desperate to be with him, but you were going to take me home. You said you would. You got rid of that guy for me. You might have seen something, but it wasn’t enough to make you sure of anything, and if you had, you would have said something.
You didn’t know.
Right?
I hate Laurie for this. I want my memory of waking up and seeing you in the hospital unchanged. I don’t want to think there was a shadow in your eyes. I don’t want to think that when you hugged me before I went home and said you were scared, you meant something else. I don’t want to think you meant you were sorry.
But, Julia, I know you, and “sorry” was a word you were never able to say. Did you—is that what you were trying to say?
I don’t want to think about this anymore.
112
E L E V E N
I DIDN’T EVEN MAKE IT to school today.
Well, I did, but only for a little while.
I was pretty tired when I got there this morning. I haven’t been sleeping that well, not since—well, not since I wrote to Julia after Friday night.
I know Julia didn’t know exactly what that guy did, but it just . . . it’s there, in my head, and it won’t go away.
At school, I forgot to take the long way to my locker and ended up passing hers. I tried not to notice it, but of course I did. I hate what they’ve done to it so much.
Mel walked by as I was opening my locker. I pretended I didn’t see him, but he slowed down and said,
“Hey, Amy.” He was with Patrick, who was (as usual) staring at the floor. When I looked over at them Mel waved and then nudged Patrick, who looked up from 113
