I reached out and closed my hand around the glass. It fit in my hand like it belonged there, and I knew if I drank from it I wouldn’t have to say another word.
272
January 20th
Dear Julia,
I know it’s been a while. I just . . . I had some things to work out. Things I had to do on my own. Things I had to do without you.
I put the glass down, J. I put it down and took Patrick’s hand. Are you surprised? I was. I didn’t think I could do things like that, take chances by myself, for myself. But I did. I did and I’m glad.
I don’t know where we’re going. Neither of us is very good at thinking about what might happen, about the
“future.” We just focus on now and it’s enough, more than enough, because when he touches me I think of all those stupid love songs you used to sing and am glad I know the words. (Don’t tell anyone I told you that.) 273
Your mother moved away about a month ago. She sold your house. No one knows where she went. She called my parents right before she left. She asked to speak to me.
She wanted to know what you said after the crash. She wanted to know your last words. She said I owed her that.
She said I owed you that. She was crying.
You never said anything. You were already gone by the time I opened my eyes.
I told her you asked for her. That day in the cemetery, she said she’d give anything to hear your voice one last time, and I wanted her to have that. I wanted her to know you loved her. She was silent for a moment, and then she hung up. I don’t know if she believed me or not.
Caro and I went to the mall today. We hang out a lot now. Mel asked her out the night of the party. He said he knew what Beth had told him was a lie, that he remembered the night Caro told him she liked him, and that he knew she meant it. He said he never meant to tell Beth about it, and was sorry he ever had. He said he wanted to be with her, not Beth.
She said no.
Beth found out everything, and didn’t care that Caro said no. She trashed her and Mel all over school.
A week after the party, when we were sitting together 274
in the student resource center avoiding lunch, I asked her what she was going to do about Mel, who’d been calling her.
“Nothing,” she said. “I liked him, and he knew it. He always knew it, he even said so—and he still chose to go out with Beth. He picked her, and even though he changed his mind, I want a guy who will pick me fi rst.
Mel can call all he wants, but I deserve better.”
“You do,” I told her, and I meant it. She’s not you, J, but she’s—she’s becoming a friend.
At the mall we looked for a gift for Jane. The wedding is in about a month, on Valentine’s Day. It’s so cheesy it’s sort of sweet. Caro says Jane’s fiance’s cousin, who is in the wedding party, is flying in a few days early. He’s in his freshman year at Cornell, but they met at a shower a few weeks ago and have been talking ever since. She says he’s really nice.
I was asking her about him when we passed a girl with long, honey-colored hair. She was laughing loudly, freely. I stopped and stared. You know who I thought I saw. She smiled at me—it wasn’t your smile—and then turned away.
I hated you for dying. For leaving. I hated you so much. I hated you almost as much as I hated myself. But I 275
can look in the mirror now and face what I see. I’m even happy now, sometimes, and I can think of you and smile.
I won’t lie and say everything’s changed, though. I’m not a better person, a stronger one. I’m still me and I know what I did. Yeah, I wasn’t driving the car, and I see the choices you made now. I even see that I can’t make them mine, but I’ll always remember making sure you saw Kevin.
I’ll always remember taking your hand and telling you that everything would be okay.
Wherever I go, I’ll always see you. You’ll always be with me. And there’s no happy ending coming here, no way a story that started on a night that’s burned into my heart will end the way I wish it could. You’re really gone, no last words, and no matter how many letters I write to you, you’re never going to reply. You’re never going to say good-bye.
So I will.
Good-bye, Julia. Thank you for being my friend.
Thank you for being you.
Love,
Amy
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A C K N O W L E D G M E N T S
Thanks to Tara Weikum for believing in me and this book—and for her incredible heart and talent.
