We flopped onto beanbags in front of the TV and Ian clicked it on. The ten o'clock news was in full swing.
A female reporter said, "Calvin Versteeg is being held on four counts of first-degree murder and two counts of attempted murder at the Teton County Detention Center. Sources tell us that Versteeg will most certainly be found incompetent to stand trial. He suffered severe brain damage during an attempted suicide shortly before his arrest and is expected to be committed to a state mental hospital for appropriate treatment."
"Do you want me to turn it off?" Ian asked, with a worried glance at me.
I motioned for him to be quiet and leaned forward, focusing intently on the video feed that the station had briefly switched to. It was airing footage of Calvin being pushed into the detention center in a wheelchair. News reporters and camera crews pushed as close to him as the police would allow, taking photographs and thrusting microphones at him, but my eyes traveled to a man on the outskirts of the crowd.
He was wearing a goose-down parka and dark-wash jeans that appeared brand new. My palms started to sweat. His head was tipped down, shielding him from the cameras, but he almost looked like . . .
The reporter continued, "Versteeg graduated from Pocatello's Highland High School last year and told family and friends that he was attending Stanford University this year. Stanford's admissions office confirmed that Versteeg applied to the school, but was not accepted. Calvin Versteeg's father, a CPA, and mother, an attorney, have not given a public statement on their son's arrest and did not return our phone calls. We interviewed Highland High School senior Rachel Snavely, who attended school with Versteeg since elementary school. She said, 'I can't believe Calvin killed those girls. He wouldn't hurt anyone. He was, like, such a great guy. I went to a pool party at his house last summer. He was the perfect gentleman.'"
"You can turn it off now,” I said, rising to my feet in a daze.
Ian clicked the remote. "Sorry you had to see that. Are you okay?"
I walked to the window. I pressed my hand to the glass, searching the dreary darkness of the street outside, praying I'd see a figure in the shadows gazing intently back at me.
I didn't see him, but he was out there somewhere. Jude was alive.
That night I was either too hot or too cold.
At six I woke up tangled in my blankets. I gave up on sleep and went running. I had too much adrenaline, too much restless energy. The sky was overcast, threatening more rain. It reflected my mood uncannily.
I ran through the park, pumping my arms hard, trying to leave Jude behind. He wasn't coming back. He'd done what he set out to do. His life as Mason was over. Right now he was probably on a plane back to California to resume his life as Jude Van Sant. I was no longer in the picture.
I knew it was illogical to be angry with Jude. He'd kept his promises to me. But my heart was in too deep for me to be logical about Jude. I needed him now. We were a team. I felt cheated knowing we'd never go driving with the windows down, singing to the radio at the top of our lungs. We'd never sneak out to a latenight movie and hold hands in the dark. We'd never get in a snowball fight. After everything we'd been through, didn't I deserve to know him during the good times too?
It wasn't fair. Why did he get to leave on his terms? What about what I wanted? I tore my earbuds angrily from my ears and bent at the waist, catching my breath. I wasn't going to cry over him. I felt nothing. I was certain I felt nothing.
Once I was able to put him out of my head, I'd realize these feelings weren't real. We'd been trapped together in horrific circumstances, and because of this shared experience, I'd formed a powerful attachment to him. One of these days I'd remember that night under the tree and laugh at myself for thinking I cared about him. If I chose to remember that night at all.
I rounded a bend, and a man stepped into my path. I stopped in my tracks. It was early, the morning shadows blotting the treelined trail ahead. He wore a leather bomber jacket and he had a duffel slung over one shoulder, like he was about to board a plane.
My mouth had gone dry and my hands were trembling. He'd cleaned up. New clothes, and a trip to the barber. But despite the fresh shave, he didn't look harmless. Small cuts still nicked his face, and the bruises weren't completely healed. In the low morning light, he looked dangerous.
His jacket fit snugly around his muscled shoulders, and I shivered as I remembered what their smooth contours had felt like. I remembered that night under the tree in vivid detail. I remembered the taste of Jude's kiss, and the way I'd felt warm and safe in his arms.
I wanted to run and fling myself into his arms now, but I held my ground.
"You came back,” I said.
He stepped closer. "It took me four days to get off the mountain. I didn't let myself stop walking, afraid I'd freeze if I rested. I used your coat as a bandage, so thanks for that. At the bottom of the mountain, I found a store with an ATM outside, and got enough cash to hide in a hotel until I was rested. After that, the plan was to get on a plane to California. I was ready to close this chapter of my life and go back to being Jude Van Sant. I didn't think there was anything stopping me." His eyes pierced mine. "But I kept waking up at night, haunted by a familiar face."
"Jude,” I said, choking up.
He came forward and clasped my hands. "You kept my secret. I can't thank you enough."
"I know why you did what you did."
"Lauren deserved justice. So did Kimani and Macie, but not everyone would have agreed with how I went about getting it. Shaun took you and Korbie hostage, shot and wounded a police officer, and killed a game warden-and I was with him when he did it. It would have come out during the trial that I was living a lie, and I was smart enough to get away with it. A normal person has every reason to be scared of someone like me. They'd lock me away."
He was right. I knew he was. I also knew he'd taken a huge risk in coming here. I didn't let myself hope what it meant for me-for us-that that he'd risked discovery and capture to see me.
"What now?" I asked. "What about us?"
Something in Jude's eyes changed. He dropped his gaze. Right away, I knew I had read him wrong. I wasn't going to get the answer I wanted. He was going to break my heart.
"We've been through something intense and now we have to adjust to life going back to normal, even if it is a new normal. You need to be a regular high school student. This is your senior year. It's an important time. You should be celebrating with your friends and planning your future. I have to go home. I need to grieve with my family."