Once We Were

She fought for it, and maybe I should have given it to her, but I couldn’t. Everything in me screamed against it. I wrapped our arms around our body. He hung by the light switch, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

“Addie was telling me you guys were practicing going under more and more.” He gave me a hesitant smile. “Obviously, you haven’t quite got a handle on timing yet. You’ll get it. Everybody goes through a sort of transition period. Once Katy came back right in the middle of Cordelia—”

“Stop,” I said. Our voice was hoarse. He stopped. I finally managed to look away from him, toward the door.

<Eva!>

“I’ve got to go,” I said.

“Right, okay.” Jackson hesitated, as if he might say more, but finally just shut his mouth and gestured to the door as if I couldn’t see it.

<Eva!> There was another, enormous wrench for control, so strong I froze midstep, trapped in Addie’s screaming. <Eva, let go!>

<No> I said. <No. No—>

I shoved her aside. I hardly had to think about it—I couldn’t think about it. All I knew was I had to get out. Had to get away from this room, this apartment, this building. This boy.

Our legs started moving again. I didn’t look back, and Jackson didn’t speak again. Everything from his bedroom door to the building lobby was a blur.

<Eva> Addie said. My name had never been spoken so caustically. <What the hell are you freaking out about?>

<What am I freaking out about?> My voice squeaked. <I’m sorry. Did I just misinterpret what was going on in there?>

<We were kissing> she said. I flinched. <You know, that thing involving mouths that people do with people they like—>

<People they like—>

<—which I happen to know you and Ryan aren’t exactly unfamiliar with— >

<You don’t even like him> I shouted.

Her voice turned deathly cold. <And how do you know, Eva?>

I faltered. <Because I would know. If you liked him. I—I would know.>

I felt so many of Addie’s other emotions, didn’t I? I knew when she was angry or sad or happy or frustrated or frightened. I would know it if she loved or even just especially liked Jackson, and she didn’t.

She didn’t.

Addie laughed. <Right. Because you’ve been paying so much attention to who and what I like, Eva.>

<I—>

<It’s not like you haven’t been too busy focusing on what you want.> Her voice had gone shrill. Her entire presence next to me was so tight and sharp and hard I didn’t dare go anywhere near her. <You want Ryan to love you. You want—you want Sabine and Cordelia and Christoph to think you’re so amazing. You’ve been so wrapped up in trying to get what you want—> She shuddered. <And you know what? I’ve taken it. Because I felt bad. But what about me, Eva? You always wanted your freedom. What about mine?>

<You have your freedom> I protested.

Somehow, I’d made it out onto the street. I could hardly remember how I’d gotten there. It was evening. Warm and darkening quickly. Cars zoomed past. Where was I? Right. Jackson’s apartment. Where was that?

<I have my freedom?> Addie said. <Because what just happened in there—that didn’t feel like freedom.>

In the very last second, I scrambled to reach out for her. I tried to grab on to her—

But she cut away from me. The nothingness dropped, sharp and sudden and painful as a guillotine.

I was left stumbling on the sidewalk, on a street I didn’t recognize, in front of an apartment building I didn’t remember entering, in a city that suddenly felt incredibly hostile and empty and vast.

TWENTY-FOUR

I had to ask for directions to get home. There was no way I was going back to Jackson, and it took several minutes to dredge up the nerve to approach someone else—several more to find the right words to say.

Finally, I picked a middle-aged woman with a kind face. My voice was surprisingly steady. I tried to smile when she finished explaining.

She’d moved on half a block before I realized I hadn’t taken in a single word.

I picked another person, a young man. I managed to follow his instructions this time.

It didn’t take very long to make it back to Emalia’s apartment building. I lingered in the ground-floor lobby.

<Addie?> I whispered.

Of course, she didn’t respond. She was gone, lost in dreams.

Was what she’d said right?

I took a sharp breath, pressed the heels of our—my—hands to my forehead. Had I been ignoring what Addie wanted? I hadn’t.

Had I?

Maybe I had.

But she should have told me about Jackson. It was my body, too. I deserved to know. I had to know, or it wasn’t right, was it? It was too confusing—and hurt too much—to think about. I kept feeling phantom hands on me. Kept tasting Jackson. Kept feeling—

The front door opened, ramming into me from behind. I cried out.

“Addie!” Dr. Lyanne said. Surprise bleached the usual dignity from her body. But the shock only lasted a few seconds. She shut the front door behind her. “What’s wrong? What were you doing outside?”

Her eyes swept over me. I didn’t even know what to hide—how to hide. I tried to school my expression into something blander, but I couldn’t.

Addie. Addie, Addie.

“Come on.” Dr. Lyanne grabbed my arm and swept me up the stairs. I didn’t resist. I had Emalia’s spare key in my pocket, but I let Dr. Lyanne knock on our door. Kitty answered with round eyes.

“I just went outside for a walk,” I said before Dr. Lyanne could ask again. “I got tired of being inside and I went out. Nothing happened. The sun didn’t explode.”

“Just going outside wouldn’t leave you a mess like this.” Dr. Lyanne tried to steer me toward the dining- room table. Like how she’d steered me back at Nornand. But that girl in Nornand’s blue uniform felt like a different person. A child who could be directed and handled and frightened into obeying.

I was suddenly furious. Being angry was so much easier than being confused, or scared, or guilty. I let it fill me up, occupying the space where Addie should have been, shoving away everything I didn’t want to think about, didn’t want to feel.

“I’m a mess,” I snapped, “because I can’t remember where my own body was for the last few hours. I can’t remember because I wasn’t there. And now Addie’s gone, and I think she hates me, and I have no idea when she’s coming back, or what we’ll do then. Have you ever been in a fight with someone in your own head?”

Dr. Lyanne was silent, but only for a second. When she spoke again, her voice was sharp, her words blunt. “Eva, tell me what’s going on.”

But I couldn’t.