“Don’t wake up,” I tell myself. “Please don’t wake up.”
I gasp awake, the light outside the window set at dusk. For a moment, I can still see Harlin, still remember my face. But as I sit up, turn on my light—the dream slips away, leaving only a vague sense of loneliness. The house is still quiet when I walk out into the living room, and I’m perplexed as to where my family is. We don’t have a house phone, haven’t needed it since we all have cell phones. Or at least we did.
Ezra’s probably wondering where I am right now. Even though I doubt they’re still at the pool, I go back to my room to grab my swimsuit and then head out the door. The incident with Miriam seems far off now, like it happened to someone else. As the fear tries to creep back in, I decide not to let it. If I act normal, then I’ll be normal.
I’m going to find my boyfriend. I’m going to spend time with my best friend. I’m going to work my job at the Costas Bakery. That’s how I’ll make all this craziness go away.
I drive over to Ezra’s and immediately notice that Soleil’s car is gone. I park and knock on Ezra’s front door, the sky quickly darkening into night. No one answers, so I knock again, wondering if he and Soleil went for dinner.
Uneasy thoughts are itching at the back of my mind, wanting to call up the moments with Tanner and Miriam, so I move quickly and get back in the Jeep. I consider dropping by the bakery to see if my family is still there, prepping for tomorrow. It’s weird that they’d still be at the shop, but I can’t imagine where they’d go out and not tell me.
I start driving aimlessly, turning up the radio to distract myself. I take a right on Sycamore Road and realize that I’m near the movie theater. Maybe Lucy’s still there. Or if she’s done, maybe she’ll want to hang out for a while.
I park in the no-man’s-land section of the lot and start my trek toward the theater. When I push open the glass door, the smell of popcorn offers immediate comfort. I love the movies, especially this theater. It’s old and the seats are kind of uncomfortable, but there’s charm in the lack of updating. Vintage posters and old projectors are part of the decor.
The concession stand is in the front before the ticket office, and I notice Lucy right away. She’s wearing a red-and-white-striped shirt with a visor. It’s hysterical. I’m going to tease her about it when she looks up and sees me. I expect her to laugh, but instead she presses her lips together, looking concerned. She whispers to the boy next to her, and he leaves to go in the back.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” Lucy says, sounding pained. “I called the bakery a few times. Your brother said he hadn’t seen you.”
“I fell asleep. Why? Are you okay?”
Lucy’s expression is so foreboding that my stomach starts to knot. She reaches across the glass to take my hand, startling me. An aching sort of sickness floods me.
“Ezra’s here,” she says in a low voice. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, Claire. But he’s here with that friend of yours. What’s her name?”
I swallow down the acidic taste that crawls up my throat, anger starting to rise inside of me. “Are you talking about Soleil?”
Lucy’s eyes narrow slightly. “Yes. He’s here with Soleil. I spoke to them when they came in.” She tilts her head, examining my eyes. “I’m not sure they remembered me from last night, because if they did—they sure didn’t try to hide it.”
My breath catches. “Hide what?”
Lucy shakes her head like she can’t go on and releases her grip on my hand. I step back, upset. “Lucy,” I say loudly, “hide what?”
She shrugs sadly. “They’re in theater four.”
I glance down the hallway, and then back at her. Is she . . . is Lucy saying that Ezra and Soleil are here together together? Is my boyfriend cheating on me with my best friend? My eyes begin to sting with tears, and I can barely hear Lucy call my name as I start toward the theater. It’s not true. I refuse to believe it’s true.
Yanking open the door, I’m momentarily blinded in the darkness. When my eyes adjust, I notice them halfway up the aisle on the right. They’re sitting next to each other. Are they too close?
Fury builds under my skin, and I think about yesterday when Soleil called. When she called Ezra’s phone. Was she even looking for me? How long has this been going on? I choke on an angry cry and head down the aisle. Lucy was right. They aren’t even trying to hide it.
When I stop at the end of their row, it takes a minute for Soleil to look over. Her eyes widen when she sees me, and she immediately passes the bucket of popcorn to Ezra, startling him from the movie.
“Where have you been?” she whispers to me, seeming shocked. As if she has the right to ask when she’s here with my boyfriend. Ezra looks over, but he doesn’t say anything right away. Instead he just seems to take in my appearance. A person in the row behind them tells me to sit down, and I shoot him a dirty look. I’m so . . . angry. I feel like I could tear this place apart.
“You’re cheating on me?” I ask Ezra. Soleil turns to him accusingly, but it takes a second for her to realize she’s included in the equation.
“Claire,” she starts. “What? No. We were waiting for you and—”
“Shut up,” I snap at her. “I can see what’s going on here.”
Ezra stands, and I feel the entire theater watching us. I just don’t care. “You’re freaking out,” he says, reaching to take my arms. But I won’t let him touch me.
“Go to hell,” I growl. “Both of you.”
Without waiting for another word, I storm up the aisle, tears racing down my cheeks. I can barely get my mind around what’s happening, and I break into a run, needing to escape. As I pass the concession stand, Lucy leans her elbows on the counter, her chin in her palms.
“Night, Claire,” she calls after me. I glance back, confused by her calm appearance when everything is falling apart. But I’m too upset to respond.
I burst out of the theater doors and run for the Jeep. The minute I lock myself inside, I sob and let the grief fill me. My life has just imploded.
Chapter 6
The anger fades slightly as I drive through the darkened streets. To be honest, I’ve never felt that sort of venom before. Right now all I want is to curl up and cry. I’m . . . heartbroken.
I don’t want to go home, not when my eyes are swollen and my cheeks stiff with dried tears. I’m suddenly so alone—so crushingly alone that it feels like my insides are being hollowed out. I stop at a red light, sniffling back the next round of tears, and look to the side to see the beach parking lot.