“I wonder how long it’s been gone,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve been back here since I was ten or eleven.” The summer after Jack had moved across town.
“You came without me?” Jack raised his eyebrows in mock disapproval.
“Not much,” I said honestly, thinking how dull it had been sitting up there without Jack to play chess or pirates or I Spy with. “It wasn’t the same.”
He nodded, swinging our bookbags to the ground and sitting on the big flat rock a few feet away. I walked over to join him.
We were quiet for a minute, then he said, “That’s how I felt this summer, you know.”
I looked at him and he flashed me a small smile before looking back at our tree.
“What do you mean?”
“It wasn’t the same with you gone,” Jack said.
My breath caught. I wanted so much to believe it, but Jack and I hadn’t been close since the summer we found the fort. Eight years ago. I told him that.
“I know. But …” He looked over at me, serious and a little uncertain. “I’ve always felt … I don’t know, still … connected?” He gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “That probably doesn’t make any sense.”
“No,” I said quietly. “It does.”
He scratched at the rock as he spoke, his voice soft but steady. “At first I didn’t even realize you’d left. It sounds terrible. I mean, what kind of friend am I or how much connection can there be if I don’t even know you’re gone, right?” He glanced up and I shrugged, thinking that’s exactly what I’d expected. That he wouldn’t even notice. “But one day I realized that I kept looking for you,” Jack continued. “In the stands at games, at parties, at the pool. I don’t think I knew it before, but it was something I’d always done. Just kind of … keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were around.” He glanced down at his hands, absently rubbing at a finger, then back up at me. “I always felt better when you were.”
It was my turn to look down, a little overwhelmed by Jack’s description of things I’d always felt and done myself, never imagining he might be doing them too.
“When it hit me that you just … weren’t here, I couldn’t believe it. Even after Tasha told me what happened. I went by your apartment, eventually found myself here.”
“You did?”
He nodded. “I’m not even sure how to describe how I felt … sad is the closest, I guess. Like things weren’t quite right. Like …” He hesitated, searching my face, holding my eyes as he said, “Like I missed out on something important.”
I couldn’t speak, feeling such a rush of hope and happiness and fear all together.
“And then I saw you in Kansas. I mean, what are the chances of that happening? And you were with a guy. Your boyfriend. And I …” Jack took a deep breath. “I tried to be cool and everything, but I realized that all this time I’ve kept track of you not just because we were friends, but because deep down, I thought someday we’d be more. I realized I wanted us to be more. And it hit me that you might go away. Like you did.” He was watching me. “Or find someone else. Like you did. It hit me that I might have already missed my chance.”
“You didn’t.” I said it so quietly he might not have heard, except for the silence of the preserve, the wind still as if to be sure neither of us would miss out this time.
Jack didn’t say anything and what we’d just admitted hung between us, delicate and scary. Then he reached over, his hand warm, grazing my cheek, lifting my chin. He leaned close, my heart thudding as he whispered in my ear, “Then let’s make sure”—his lips brushed my skin—“we don’t.” I felt the slight scratchiness of his cheek as he drew back, his lips just barely apart from mine. We hesitated, savoring the seconds that had taken us so long to get to. The closeness of him was almost unbearable. I couldn’t think, speak, breathe. I could only want.
And then we kissed. Soft and sweet and hot and tender and as brilliant as the flame-colored leaves we used to play in. Like it was meant to be: fated, destined.
Only maybe it wasn’t. Because I was here, seven hundred miles away, in the break room of a funeral home. And Jack was still where I’d left him.
Mr. Ludwig called me to the chapel finally, after the family and mourners had gone. Mechanically, I folded the chairs and tables, hoping work could push away the memories and let me refocus on what I’d seen and heard in the chapel today. The reason I was here and not with Jack.
I forced myself to stand by the now-closed coffin of James Killiam and think of how he’d looked the last time I saw him, whatever part of him still remained. Caked in makeup, wearing a suit he probably hated while alive—clothed in now for eternity. Or at least until bugs ate it away.
If I had seen him with the mark, would I have told? Given him a chance to save himself ? Of course. He was a good man and citizen. He had a family who loved him. He was a doctor and probably saved lives. And there was that tantalizing research.
He shouldn’t have died.
For every soul extended days, another is cut short.
Except the letter made the whole equation different.
I texted Jack on the bus ride home, yearning for that day in the preserve, wishing I could go back and live in it forever, far from the mark and its uncertain responsibilities.
“made a new friend at work today. how r u?”
As usual, there was no response.
Chapter 6
Liv was waiting for me outside calc. She had Algebra II that same period, right next door.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Meh.” I’d studied a little the night before, until Petra convinced me to play Scrabble. I was pretty sure I’d passed the test, but probably not by much. “Not great.”
“I don’t know why you signed up for calc, Cassie.”
“Masochism?”
“Must be.” Liv and I began walking down the hall. Usually, she’d start in right away on the crazy-cool outfit Mrs. Steingartner was wearing or what they were working on in art, or at least what she’d done the night before, but today Liv was quiet. And frowning.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Huh?” She glanced over, still lost in thought. “Yeah.” Liv scratched her ear, pushed up her glasses, then asked not quite offhandedly, “Hey, you think the restaurant you work at is hiring?”