We sat together in silence for a few minutes, sucking in the warm air.
“One of these days, you’re going to lead us all the way into the next town,” he said.
“It’s hardly a bad thing to get out of Birdton every once in a while.”
“True,” he said. “When I graduate, I’m never coming back. I’ll go to any college that takes me as long they give me a scholarship and it’s nowhere near this place. I’ll be done with here forever.”
I stretched my arms above my head and then let them flop back down. “I’m going to head to the East Coast for college. Somewhere where no one knows anything about me.” Where no one knows that I was once a twin. Where the worst thing that ever happened to me isn’t common knowledge.
“Why the East Coast?”
“I don’t know—it sounds nice. In my head, it’s all redbrick buildings, libraries, and perfect windswept beaches.” I hadn’t considered it closely before, but I was pretty sure my vision came half from The Great Gatsby and half from some admissions brochures that had come in the mail.
“Sounds nice,” he said. “Preppy but nice.”
“Yeah,” I said. It was tempting to stay on the topic forever, discussing this perfect future away from Birdton—a beautiful blank slate. I needed to ask him, though. Needed to find out if he knew anything that might help me.
“You didn’t go to the party at the quarry, did you?” I asked. “The one back in November?”
“Yeah, I went,” he said. “Not my usual scene, but I went for a couple hours. I wish I’d just stayed home.”
“Something happened?”
“Nah, I just don’t really enjoy wandering around in the dark. I was already not in the best mood anyway—Brian made a big deal out of wanting me to go, even had the nerve to tell me to look nice for once, when he practically lives in the same shirt all the time. Then, after all that, he forgot to pick me up—I had to borrow my parents’ car and drive over myself. I couldn’t even find him for ages.”
“He wasn’t there?”
“Oh, I found him eventually. He was wandering around at the bottom of the quarry, throwing rocks into the pool of water, drunk off his head. Not exactly the best company.”
“Was he looking for something down there?”
“Something?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “A phone, maybe?”
“He didn’t say anything about a phone,” Nick replied. “Maybe that was what he was doing, but he wasn’t exactly being efficient about it if he was.”
I tried to think of a slick transition to asking about Brian and Anna. When none sprang to mind, I went for a less subtle approach. “Was his, uh, girlfriend with him?”
“His girlfriend?” He frowned. “I don’t think Brian’s dated anyone since Mona.”
“Oh, I thought I’d heard something about him hanging out with someone—maybe some girl on the cross-country team.”
Nick shrugged. “I never heard anything about that. He took it real hard when Mona broke up with him. I think he’s still pretty hung up on her even now.”
I kept my face as neutral as possible, trying not to see an image of Mona unconscious in the middle of a football field, her shirt ripped open. Because I didn’t want to see that. Didn’t want to hear the guy I like championing the guy who in all likelihood had done that to her. Had taken her away from herself. Didn’t want to hear about how sad he was to have lost her. Some people didn’t deserve my pity. Some people didn’t deserve second chances. And I really hoped Anna hadn’t given him one.
Nick propped himself up on his elbows. “What’s with all the questions?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Nice try there, Ace Detective.”
I looked up at the sky and noticed a plane flying above us, almost lost behind a cloud. “I found a phone in the quarry the other day. I wanted to try to give it back.”
He shrugged. “That’s a nice thought, but I doubt it would have been from that night. Even if it was, they’ll have replaced it months ago. No one is going to wait around for their phone to turn up for that long.” Then he paused. “Wait, why were you at the quarry? Were you, uh, hanging out with someone?”
I looked at him blankly for a second and then I remembered Sarah’s comment about why people went to the quarry, the reason I’d first gone to look it over to begin with. And I almost smiled at the idea that he seemed to think I might have other guys in my life.
“No,” I said. “I was just, you know, by myself. Taking it in.”
Taking it in. I had no idea what I might mean by that. And apparently neither did he.
“Is everything okay, Jess?”
He looked so sincere, so sweetly concerned, that for a moment, I considered telling him the truth. Not just about the quarry and the phone—everything. Telling him about Anna and the alcohol and my suspicions about Mr. Matthews and now Brian. I was afraid, though, that going down that road, that telling him any part at all, could lead to my unspooling in front of him until there was nothing left. That said out loud, it wouldn’t sound at all like the straightforward, logical process I liked to think of it as, but like evidence of how desperate and sad and deeply, deeply messed up I was. You think I’m strange already, I thought. I don’t think I can handle your knowing how far it really goes.
I forced a smile onto my face. “I’m fine. I was just curious about the quarry because I’d never gone there.” Then I stared out at the sky. The plane had disappeared, only a faint trail of white left in its wake.
I DIDN’T SEE IT AT first. It was buried among the other mail—obscured by an athletic clothing catalog
