âGo! Go! Go, baby!!â Trevor yelled at the TV and then leapt to his feet. âWoohoo!â He did a ridiculous touchdown dance while screaming at the top of his lungs. I looked up from my book and sniffled.
Cara peeked her head out of her room. âKeep it down, you big oaf!â
âHey, Avril Lavigne, why donât you go find an open mic night somewhere?â I looked up from my book and marveled at how casually he teased Cara. Why didnât Trevor and I have that same kind of playful dynamic? In fact, why didnât I have that with anyone? The last person Iâd been that close to was Jase.
Cara came up to the back of the couch and leaned over to look at me, smiling. âI never get his insults.â She paused. âWait a minute, are you crying?â
âNo,â I squeaked.
âTrevor, your woman is sitting here bawling her head off and youâre over there dancing around like a fool?â
I laughed through my tears. âIâm crying because of the dancing.â
In a low voice, Cara said, âSeriously, are you okay? Come talk to me.â Then she shook her head at Trevor and walked away.
Trevor came toward me with a look of faint concern. âWhy are you cryingâfor real, Emi?â
I sat up and he sat down next to me. âI was just thinking about this little girl and these three little boys I was in foster care with.â
âYou were in foster care? I thought your aunt adopted you when your parents died.â
I took a breath. âMy mom and dad arenât dead, Trevor. At least, my dad isnât.â
He looked shocked. Of course he would be. I had been lying to him. âWhere are they now? Whyâd you go to live with Cyndi if your parents are alive?â
I took a deep breath. âMy mom took off when I was ten. I donât know where she is. And my dadâs in jail, I think. At least, he used to be.â
Trevor looked stunned. âFor what?â
âFelony child abuse and neglect,â I said, trying hard not to make eye contact. If I saw pity on Trevorâs face, I would lose it.
âWow, Emi. So he really beat you up?â
âHe did the last time. Jase too, kind of.â I took another deep breath. âYou know what? Maybe itâs not such a bad idea for you to read the book when Iâm done. Itâs fictionalized, but itâll give you a good idea of what I went through as a kid.â
Trevor sank down next to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. âIâm really sorry, Emi. I wish youâd felt like you could have told me this a long time ago. You never talked about your past, and I didnât want to push. I figured your parents were good people and that you were an orphan, not abused and neglected.â
I rested my head against his shoulder. âIâm sorry I lied to you. You really didnât deserve that.â And I meant it. It was despicable that I had lied to him. âWhen we met, I was telling everyone they were dead. It was just easier that way. Itâs hard for me to relive what I went through, but as I read Jaseâs book, Iâm forced to face it all again. Itâs not easy.â I set the book down on the floor. âI think Iâve had enough for tonight.â
He squeezed my shoulder. âYou know whatâll take your mind off that book?â
âWhat?â I asked hopefully.
âA Cal victory.â He jerked a thumb toward the TV. âWanna watch with me?â
My heart sank for a moment. Trevor always took what I said at face value; he wasnât the type to wade into emotional territory if he didnât have to. Just one of the many reasons why it had been so easy to lie to him all those years ago.
I gave him a weak smile. âSure.â
HOURS LATER, AFTER Cal won, we jumped up from the couch and ran through Caraâs door shouting, âGo Bears!â She sat at her desk, watching us with a smile.
I was trying so hard to be in the moment, but as we jumped up and down, I felt like I was outside of my body, watching some girl I barely recognized jumping with joy next to her perfect boyfriend and her perfect friend in her perfect apartment. But it wasnât really me. Jaseâs book had reminded me who I really was.
My smile faded as my mind went exactly where I didnât want it to go. Why didnât he look for me? Do I even want to be found?
âWhat happened, Emi?â Trevor asked.
I took a deep breath and realized I had stopped cheering. âIâm just tired.â
Cara watched me with concern. âTrevor, I think Emi and I need a girlsâ night.â She arched her eyebrows at me.
I took his hand in mine and turned to face him. âThat actually sounds nice. I could use some ice cream and John Hughes movies.â
âI get it, I get it.â He smiled, pecked me on the lips, and then called over his shoulder, âHave fun, ladies.â
The second we heard the front door close behind him, I turned toward Cara. âThank you so much.â
âYou just want to get back to that book, donât you?â
âYeah, I guess.â
Cara smirked. âThen youâre totally going with me to his book event tomorrow to meet him. Itâs in San Diegoâlucky us.â
My heart started racing. âUm, I canât.â
âWhat? Why not? What do you have to do tomorrow?â She watched me cautiously from her desk as I slowly lowered myself to the edge of her bed. âWhy are you acting so weird?â
âBecause . . .â I sighed. I couldnât hide it any longer. âBecause I know him,â I said under my breath. My heart started beating even faster.
âYou know who?â
âThe author. J. Colby.â
âWhat? Are you fucking kidding me?â She stood up from her desk chair, almost knocking it over in the process. âWhat do you mean you know him? You didnât even know about this book until a few days ago.â
âI know him, Cara.â I widened my eyes for emphasis.
âLike, in the biblical sense?â
âThatâs not exactly was I was implying, but . . . yeah. I know him that way too.â
I could see the wheels turning as she tried to put it all together. âYouâre from Ohio . . . and heâs from Ohio.â She stared ahead blankly, like a zombie, then went into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of tequila, and returned. She took a swig and handed the bottle over to me. âTalk,â she demanded.
âI donât have to. Youâve just read everything you need to know about me.â
Her eyes widened. âSo itâs you? Youâre Emerson?â
I nodded. âItâs all true. He glosses over some things, but yeah . . . it all happened.â
âJesus. You havenât finished yet, I take it?â
âNo, Iâm at the part when Emerson goes to the Kellersâ. So far itâs all true, except maybe the part about Jaxâs six-pack.â I rolled my eyes.
She was silent for a minute and then she began laughing hysterically, almost psychotically, until I started laughing too. She buckled over, in tears. âThis is insane, Emi. In. Sane. This guy wrote a whole book about you and you didnât even know it until you started reading it?â She laughed even harder and then stopped abruptly. âSo wait . . . does that mean you were in a foster home with four other kids?â
My own laughter died down. âYeah, but not for very long.â
âDo you have any contact with the little girl?â
I shook my head no. I wished Iâd stayed in touch with her. I owed it to her. But like everything else remotely relating to Ohio, I had compartmentalized her away, too afraid to indulge in any memories. âI guess sheâd be in college by now.â My eyes welled up again.
âWas it true what happened to her? What you did?â
âYou mean before I left?â
âYeah.â
âI havenât gotten that far yet, but so far everything that Iâve read really happened.â
Cara stood up and hugged me. âIâm so glad I know you, Emi.â I started crying immediately, giving in to the emotional roller-coaster ride. She pulled me closer toward her. âNone of it was your fault. You know that, right?â
Years of therapy had tried to convince me of the same thing.
âFine, letâs avoid the hard stuff. Tell me more about the guy. Is he as hot as Iâm imagining him to be? Was every girl in love with him in high school?â
I laughed through my tears. âHis name is Jase Colbertson. He and I used to finish each otherâs sentences. He knew me inside and out. We spent so many years together, playing and talking. We wrote hundreds of short stories and spent pretty much every moment together. Up until I went to live with Cyndi and Sharon, he was the only person who ever truly cared about me.â
âHe obviously thought very highly of you,â Cara said soothingly as she rubbed my back.
âI mean, maybe in fiction. In real life, he hasnât reached out to me in twelve years.â I was still heartbroken that he had never looked for me. After I went to college, I had looked for him a few times online, but never got any hits. As more time passed, I figured he had gotten over us and moved on. I could see now that I was right. Jase was living his life in California the way he had dreamed he would, but I wasnât a part of it.
When we were kids heâd say, Iâm gonna publish a book by the time Iâm thirty. And he had done it. He had a bestselling novel and a book tour set up by a publisher, and heâd done it all without me. He was gorgeous and talented and had everything he wanted. Why would he ever come looking for me? That bastard.
Cara pulled back and looked me in the eyes. âYou should finish the book and go with me to see him tomorrow.â
I sniffled. âI donât know. Maybe.â I thought about all those deleted messages I hadnât sent through his website. A part of me still wanted to give him a piece of my mind. âI might be a little curious to see him, but I need to finish the book first.â
She nodded. âOkay, I think you should.â
I nodded. A short while later, after Cara had turned in for the night, I made a pot of coffee and prepared myself to dive back into the past.
From All the Roads Between On the fifth night at the Kellersâ, I snuck down to the kitchen and grabbed the phone again to call Jax.
âHello?â He sounded groggy.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âItâs one a.m. I have to get up early tomorrow.â
His dismissive tone bothered me, leaving me vulnerable. âWhy?â
ââCause they just canceled the bus route down here.â
âWhat? Really? What do you mean?â
âIt means I have to fucking walk, Em.â
My stomach sank. âTo where?â
âTo Carterâs. Cal Junior just started giving me a ride to the bus stop on Fifth.â
I visualized the route in my head. Jax would have to walk two miles each way every day just to get to Carterâs, probably before it was even light out. And he had to hitch a ride with Cal Junior, the thirty-year-old son of Cal Carter, the owner of the egg ranch. Cal Junior was strange and creepy, and there was a story about how he had once exposed himself to two kids who had been riding their bikes past the ranch. We stayed away from him as much as possible.
âOh my god, Jax, Iâm so sorry. What happened to Ms. Beels?â
âThey wonât let her come down this far for one kid.â
Itâs all my fault. âWhy on earth are you getting a ride from Junior?â
âDo I have a choice? My mom arranged it. I guess he was hanging around her work last night and she told him about our problem. He offered, and I caught a ride with him this morning.â
âDid he talk to you?â
âNo, he just smoked cigarettes the whole way into town. I smelled like an ashtray by the time I got to school.â
âIsnât there any other way?â
âI donât know.â Jackson sounded empty, shattered, and distant.
âYou sound depressed.â
âIâm fine. Listen, Iâm tired. Can we talk later in the week?â
âSure. Okay, love you,â I said, feeling awful that we were getting off the phone without exchanging at least a few nice words.
âGood night.â
âI said I love you, Jackson.â
âLove you too, Em.â After we hung up, I stared at the phone, wondering why Jackson seemed distant.
Over the next few weeks, Jax answered only about half of the time, and each time he sounded more and more depressed. He would ask if I was okay and then heâd rush off the phone. Thankfully, I never got caught, and if Mr. and Mrs. Keller knew, they didnât say anything.
When Jaxâs birthday arrived, I called him to see if he had gotten his driverâs license.
âHello?â
âHappy birthday! So . . . did you get it?â
âYep.â
âCongratulations, stud! Who took you to the DMV?â
âCal Junior.â
âReally? Weird.â
âYeah, well, beggars canât be choosers.â
âOkay, so . . . now what?â
âI guess Iâm gonna work at the ranch every day until I have enough money to get a car.â
âIâm proud of you, Jax. Even if you donât get a car, Iâll be proud of you.â
âYeah?â He sounded down, even though he should have been celebrating.
âYeah. I miss you,â I added.
âThanks.â
âI said I miss you.â
âI miss you too,â he said quietly.
âWill you come and see me?â My voice was shaking. His steely tone and short answers were making me feel sick. I was twirling my hair into a giant dreadlock at the side of my head out of sheer nervousness. I wondered if he was falling out of love with me, or if life was just getting worse and worse for him and he was afraid to burden me with his problems.
âHow am I supposed to do that?â
âAfter school, I go to the library in town. Mrs. Keller doesnât pick me up until four. I can skip my last class and meet you in the town if you can borrow Juniorâs truck or your momâs car.â
âI donât know, Em. That sounds impossible.â
âI just want to see you. I want to put my arms around you and wish you a happy birthday in person . . . and give you a birthday kiss.â
He laughed, but there was a hollow quality to it. âYeah, that would be nice.â
âWhat is it, Jackson? Are you seeing someone at school or something?â
âNo. I donât have time for that. I donât have a fucking life, Emerson, okay? Just stop fucking nagging me about this. I have no control over anything. I canât just take my momâs car when she has to work, and Juniorâs a freak. Iâm not asking to borrow his truck.â
âJesus! Okay. Iâm sorry.â My voice broke, and tears fell from my eyes. âI just miss you.â
âDonât cry. Please donât cry. I will fucking die, Emerson. Please just enjoy your three square meals a day and your warm bed. The only thing thatâs keeping me going is knowing that youâre living in peace, finally.â
But I wasnât. I would have taken the whiskey monster, the violent rages, and the empty refrigerator just to be able to spend time with Jax. I couldnât be selfish, though; I had to let him think there was hope so he could believe it for himself too.
âThank you. Youâre the best person I know, Jackson Fisher.â
He laughed again, a sarcastic huff that made my stomach flip in a bad way. âOkay, Em, I gotta go.â
We hung up without saying good night. I put the phone back in the kitchen and cried myself to sleep.
What felt like five minutes later, I opened my puffy eyes to find Sophia leaning over my bed. âWhatâs wrong with your face?â
âNothing.â
âWere you crying last night?â she asked. She had a look of sympathy in her eyes. âDid Jackson break up with you?â
âNo, I just miss him.â
âYouâll see each other again soon.â
I rolled out of bed and patted the top of her blonde mop. âLittle optimist, arenât you?â
She smiled back at me. âItâs called faith, Emmy.â
LATER, AS I was walking out of fifth period toward my last class, I turned the corner and my eyes immediately shot to a stunning figure leaning against a tree just off the path.
âJax!â I screamed. I ran toward him, jumped into his arms, and straddled his waist. His lips were on mine in a second. He held me to his chest as he kissed me deeply before burying his face in my neck. He sighed, a deep rumbling sound from his chest that gave me goose bumps. I shivered, but my skin was burning like I had a fever. His nose was cold against my cheek.
âFuck, I missed you. You smell so fucking good.â
He set me down. We took each other in. I could have sworn he had gotten taller. âWhat are you doing here?â
âJunior let me borrow his truck. I parked it on the road. Thereâs a fence up there we can climb to get out of here so you donât have to walk out the front gate.â
âOkay. But, shit, theyâll mark me absent in sixth period. I want to go with you so badly, but I donât want the Kellers to find out . . .â
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the ground, defeated. âI donât want to get you in trouble, Em. I just needed to see you.â
Jackson could slay my heart with just a look. âIâm coming with you. I donât care what happens.â
He gave me a huge smile and grabbed my hand. âCâmon.â
He helped me over the short fence and before long we were coasting down the road in the cab of Cal Juniorâs cigarette-stale, beat-up Chevy.
âWhere should we go?â He glanced over at me, but I couldnât speak. I was in awe of him, driving along like he had done it all his life, with confidence and grace. âWhat is it, Em?â
âNothing. You just seem so grown-up . . . different.â
âItâs still me.â
âI know, I know. I just . . . I donât know. God . . . I donât know what to say.â
He laughed. âI might be able to do this, like, once a week. Then it wonât feel so strange.â
âReally?â Those words changed everything. Now I had something to look forward to besides chores and homework.
âYeah, maybe. How about here?â He pointed straight ahead to a parking lot wrapped around New Claytonâs fishing pond.
âPerfect.â It was a warm day and less humid than usual for late spring. We found a spot on a picnic bench and sat side by side, facing the water. I studied Jacksonâs jean-clad legs, spread with confidence. He put his hand on my thigh and rubbed it up and down like it was so natural for us to touch each other that way.
âYou didnât go to school today, I take it. It takes at least an hour to get here.â
âI planned to. On the way into town this morning, I told Junior you were crying last night, and, well . . . he said I could take his truck to come see you.â He fixed his gaze on the road behind me.
âThat was nice of him.â
He huffed. âYeah, I guess.â
I touched my hand to his cheek. âLook at me.â
He turned, his eyes full of pain and longing. I leaned in and we kissed each other slowly. I didnât know what Jax was going through, but everything slipped away when we were together. He was far away but close enough to touch.
âCan you just be here with me and forget about everything else for a little while?â
He glanced at my mouth and then up to my eyes. His chest started to pump in and out and then he looked at my mouth again. There was so much heat and tension between us that I could practically hear it pulsing with currents of electricity. He swallowed and then the restraint was gone as he crushed his mouth to mine. He was more frantic than ever before, stronger, holding my body to his, our tongues teasing each other until his mouth was on my neck, then my ear, and then he was pulling me effortlessly onto his lap. I never resisted him because it was perfectly familiar, like home, to be against his big body that way. He was breathing hard and kissing hard. I took his hand, which was gripping the back of my leg, and I pulled it up to cup my breast through my sweater. He was timid at first, but then he groaned and whispered near my ear, âWhat are you doing to me, Em?â
âI want you, Jackson . . . all of you.â Big words for a fifteen-year-old, but I meant every one of them.
He set me down and pulled away, then turned toward the pond, braced his elbows on his knees, and let his head fall into his hands. âWhat can we do? I mean, we canât be togetherâwe have nowhere to go.â His voice got higher. âThereâs nothing we can do, Em.â
I rubbed my hand up and down his back. âItâs okay. I just meant I want all of you someday.â
âSomeday,â he echoed. âHopefully sooner than later. It seems like everyone is always trying to screw things up for us.â
âEveryone who? What are you talking about? My dad is going to jail. Your mom is busy with her men, and the Kellers will be fine, as long as I donât get caught. This is enough for me, Jackson. Just being near you is enough for me for now.â
He looked up and there were tears in his eyes. âI know, Iâm sorry, Iâm being such a grump. Itâs just that Iâm sixteen, you know?â He laughed finally, and I laughed too as a few tears fell from my eyes. I knew what he meant. We were lovesick. We wanted to connect as deeply as we could. For us, the physical part was innocent. We wouldâve done it out of our love for each other, not out of lust or peer pressure. We were more committed and genuinely in love than most married peopleâat least the ones we knew. Weâd had years to develop our love and respect for each other. Fifteen might have been young for sex for other kids, but for us, it just felt right.
âI get it,â I said. âI feel the same way.â
âI want you so bad, itâs all I think about.â
âJust focus on the future. Remember when we used to dream about growing up? You said you wanted to be a ninja and I could be your sidekick, except you wouldnât let me use the samurai sword because you thought I was too clumsy.â
âI donât think about ninjas anymore, and I donât think youâre clumsy either. I think youâre perfect. Youâre going to stick with me, right?â His tone was serious.
âYes. Of course I am. Always, Jax.â
âI canât live without you. Itâs such fucking hell living with Leila at the end of that dirt road, all alone, with no one else to turn to. Sheâs getting worse. She doesnât even buy food anymore. Iâve been living on Taco Bell and cereal.â
âIâm so sorry, Jax. I wish I could help.â
He looked away like he was too embarrassed to look me in the eye. âWhen I think about you, about us as kids, itâs like some fucking movie. When it was just us, everything was fine.â He started to get choked up, but he was trying to be tough. He was fighting it.
âI knowâitâs the same for me.â
âNow youâre gone and everything is so real and so fucking brutal. Sheâs disgusting. Leila is awful; sheâs losing her mind. Thereâs a different guy at our house every night now, and I can hear her with them. I want to fucking die every time.â
âDonât say that, please. Go to my dadâs. Thereâs no one there. You can sleep there.â
He looked up, shocked. âThey condemned it, Em. The county is tearing it down.â
âWhat? What about my stuff? My clothes, my books, my momâs stuff?â
âItâs all gone.â
I felt a lump forming in my throat. âWhat will my dad do?â
âHeâs going to prison, and then heâll probably go to a halfway house or something. This is it, Em. Everything is changing.â
My chest was heaving. âI better get to the library to meet Sophia.â
âYeah.â He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the truck. But before opening the passenger door, he pushed me against it and rubbed his nose along my jawline. Jackson was only sixteen, but he was a man: strong, athletic, and masculine. âI just want to remember the way you taste and smell.â He kissed me hard, almost biting down on my lip. The pain felt good.
I stopped him and pulled away, breathing hard. âDonât say âremember.â You donât need to remember. Weâll see each other again soon, right?â
He pulled away, panting. âWe have to.â
âWe will.â I touched my hand to his face. We looked at each other for several silent moments, but it wasnât uncomfortable. âWe were so young once. Remember us on that bus with stupid Mikey and . . . who was that other kid?â
âAlex Duncan.â
âYeah, Alex. Remember you guys were so mean to me?â
âWe were mean to each other, Em. We were just kids.â
âLook at us now.â I laughed. âWould you ever have thought weâd be like this? Grown-up and wanting nothing more than to be with each other every second of the day?â
âI always knew.â
I laughed. âYouâre lying.â
He was impassive. âNo. I did. I swear to you. I always knew we would be like this one day. I think you always knew too.â
âMaybe.â My voice shook, and my eyes started to tear up.
He pulled me to his chest and held me.
âJackson?â I asked.
âYeah?â
âWhatâs going to happen?â
I could feel his heart beating fast against my chest. âNobody knows.â
âI hate that,â I said.
âI know, I hate it too, but I guess itâs like reading a good book. The kind where you donât want to skip pages to see what happens at the end. Each moment is a story in itself.â
âWould you say every moment is good? What about my father and your mom?â I sniffled, wiping tears from my eyes.
âOur story is great. Maybe not all the other shit, but the story of us is perfect, Em.â
âYeah, I like that. You have a way with words, Jackson Fisher.â
His chest rumbled. âA regular wordsmith, huh?â
âYou better keep writing. Youâre an awesome writer, and if you stop, I will personally kick your ass.â
âAll five foot four of you. Iâm so scared.â
I pulled out of his arms. âStill teasing me?â
âFlirtingâit was always flirting. Come on.â He opened my door and helped me in.
We didnât speak as he drove through town. At the library, Sophia was already sitting on the steps when we drove up. I watched her eyes grow wide as we approached. From fifteen feet away, I could see her blushing. I looked back at Jackson walking behind me from the parking lot. I smiled. He looked past me to Sophia and smirked his cocky, teenage man-boy smirk. Sophia jumped up and held her hand out to him.
âSophia Lyle. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.â
He shook her hand. âJackson Fisher. Itâs nice to meet you as well.â
âWhat a great name. So, um, did you pick Emerson up from school?â
âI did.â
âCool.â Sophia was nodding nervously.
âJax has to get going,â I said.
âOkay, well, Jaxâyou donât mind if I call you that, right?â
âOf course not, Sophie.â
I thought she was literally going to faint.
âOkay, well, um, any time you want to see Emerson, I can totally cover for you guys.â
âNo, Soph,â I said. âIâm not going to let you get in trouble with the Kellers.â
âWell, I just mean, I wonât tell,â she said.
âOkay,â I told her.
Jackson leaned down and pecked me on the lips. ââBye, Em.â
I grabbed his face and leaned in close to his ear. âLove you.â
Iâll always have trouble remembering the first time we said, I love you, because by the time we said it freely, we had been feeling it for years. It was as natural as saying, See you later.
âLove you,â he said, before turning and leaving a captivated Sophia and a longing Emerson behind on the library steps.
âOh my god, heâs such a dreamboat.â
I laughed. âPeople donât use that expression anymore, Sophie. That was, like, way before your time.â
âI know, but I like it and it suits him.â
âYeah, youâre right, it does. Come on, letâs get some books.â
WHEN I REALIZED that no one had noticed I was missing from sixth period, I was relieved but I knew I couldnât let it become a habit. Later in the week, at the breakfast table, I mentioned to Mrs. Keller that the library was open until five thirty on Mondays.
She didnât hesitate. âThatâs fine. You girls can stay there until closing time.â
Sophia looked up from her oatmeal and smiled. I looked away. Before we left for school, Sophia went up to Mrs. Keller as she was doing the dishes. She hugged her from behind like she was thanking her for me, but Mrs. Keller remained rigid and didnât return the gesture; she simply waited for Sophia to let go and then she went back to doing the dishes. When Sophia turned back to face me, she looked as happy as a clam.
I called Jax that night and confirmed that he would borrow Juniorâs truck the following Monday to come and see me.
I counted down the minutes until then. I couldnât sleep at night, I couldnât focus at school, and at church I fell asleep from exhaustion. Mrs. Keller elbowed me. âEmerson, sit up, girl. What is with you?â
I yawned. âThis is boring.â
âYou might want to strengthen your connection to Jesus. You certainly could use a little divine intervention.â
âWhy do you say that?â
She put her finger to her mouth. âShhh. Iâll pray for you.â
I shrugged it off.
ON MONDAY, JACKSON picked me up after school and we went to the fishing pond. He seemed distant as he drove. When we pulled into the parking lot, he rested his forehead on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. I scooted across the truck bench and put my hand on his thigh.
âYou okay?â
âYeah.â
I let my hand roam up his leg until he jerked his head up. âI donât want to touch you in here,â he said.
âWhy?â
âI just donât. I brought a blanket. We can go sit by the shore.â
âAre you okay, Jax?â
âYeah, I will be.â
We got out of the truck and walked close to the waterâs edge and laid the blanket out. We flopped down and lay on our backs, my head resting on his shoulder. âItâs nice today.â
âYeah.â
âHey, why do you seem so faraway?â
âIâm here,â he said.
I turned and propped my head on my elbow. I used my free hand to caress his face. âIn here, you seem distant.â
He cupped my neck and drew my face toward his until our mouths met. We kissed and kissed. His hands went everywhere. I kept looking up to make sure there was no one around.
âItâs just us. Let me feel you,â he said.
Touching me through my clothes, he gripped my bottom and ran his other hand up and down my waist, lifting my shirt in the process. He kissed and sucked at my neck until he was trailing a path down to my chest. He pulled the top of my T-shirt down and kissed the swells of my breasts. I arched my back. âAh, Jackson, donât,â I said, but I wanted nothing more than for him to keep going.
Through my T-shirt, he circled my nipple with his thumb. âLet me kiss you here.â His eyes had that dreamy, lazy look of desire.
âOkay,â I said breathlessly.
He undid my bra through my T-shirt and rolled me over onto my back, covering part of my body with his. His hand traveled over my bare skin from the bottom of my shirt, up to my neck, until my breast was in his hand and he was touching me gently. I closed my eyes and whimpered. His hand slipped away, and I sucked in a quick breath when I felt him take my nipple into his mouth. I held his head to my chest as he kissed and sucked and teased me. His hand roamed down the outside of my jeans between my legs. I pulled his head up to kiss my lips again. I could feel him hard on my hip.
His fingers continued stroking and rubbing until I was writhing under his touch. He moved his hand up to the button of my jeans. âNo. Iâm on my period.â
âI donât care,â he said, his voice strained.
âI do, Jackson. Stop. Not now, not like this, please.â
âOkay, okay.â He took a deep breath. âIâm sorry.â He pulled my shirt down but continued kissing me, only his kisses were lighter, just gentle little pecks up my neck.
I pressed my hand to the outside of his jeans, and his eyes shot open. âDonât! Iâll either die or totally embarrass myself.â
We laughed. He lay back on the blanket.
âYou okay?â I asked.
âJust let me catch my breath.â
I snuggled up into his body. The wind picked up, giving us some reprieve from the humidity. With my head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeats even out, I watched the breeze ripple the waterâs surface. Jacksonâs breaths lulled me to sleep.
Around four thirty, I startled awake.
âWelcome back,â Jax said with a wink.
âI canât believe I fell asleep.â
âI canât believe what you were saying in your sleep, Em.â His smile was teasing.
âOh my god, what did I say?â
âJust incoherent babbling at first and lots of drooling. Then you went on and on about how much you wanted me.â
I sat up and socked him in the chest. âWell, thatâs no secret, doofus.â
He grabbed my hand and pulled me back down on top of him. âSoon,â was all he said, and then he kissed me, slowly, sweetly.
âWe better go. I need to make sure I get to the library before Mrs. Keller.â
We drove toward the library, and even though the day had gone perfectly, I had an unsettled feeling. As we approached the tall brick building, two figures waiting on the steps came into my view. It was Mrs. Keller, standing with her arms crossed over her plump belly, watching us drive past. Our eyes met, and she followed my gaze as we passed, but there was nothing in her expression that I could read. Not anger, not disappointment, and certainly not sadness. And then there was poor, sweet Sophia staring down at her shoes, her shoulders sagging, her body listless.
âOh shit,â I said, and then laughed hysterically. âThat was Mrs. Keller.â
As Jax pulled into the parking lot of the library, he kept glancing over at me in disbelief. âWhat are you laughing about?â
âOh, just how fucked up this is going to get.â
âWhat will she do?â
âI have no idea,â I said.
He parked the car. We both looked out the back window to where Sophia and a glaring Mrs. Keller stood.
âEm, if itâs gonna get ugly, just come with me. Iâll take you back to my house.â
âLeila would never go for it.â
âYou can stay in the fort until we figure things out. Leila is hardly there; it wonât be that bad.â
Scooting across the truck bench, I took his face in my hands and kissed him. âI have to do this. I canât run. I need a place to live.â
âYou wouldnât be running. Youâd be with me, and I could stop borrowing this stupid truck.â
âOh Jesus, what would I do, Jax? Drop out of school and live in your backyard?â
He squinted and then dropped his head onto the steering wheel. âShould I at least go meet her? Maybe sheâll like me.â
âI guess it canât hurt.â I scanned his attire. He was wearing a blue Radiohead T-shirt, dark jeans, and Vans. His brown eyes were as light as they could be without being green or yellow, making him look like a celestial being in the sunlight. But it was his long hair that worried me. His hair had grown out to his shoulders, but he wore it tucked behind his ears. I stared at him, thinking idly that he would fit in perfectly in California once we got there. But I was also wondering if it was a good idea to introduce him to Mrs. Keller.
While I was looking at him and wishing we could both disappear, he lifted his head, looked me in the eye, and smiled. Fucking adorable. What woman wouldnât think so?
âWhatcha lookinâ at?â
âYou. Now . . . give her a big smile, just like that. Really lay on the charm, okay? I know you can do itâIâve seen you in action.â
âIâll do my best.â
As we made our way to the library steps, Mrs. Keller grabbed Sophiaâs hand and pulled her along. She didnât stop or make eye contact with me.
âCome along, Emerson. We have some work to do.â
âWait a second. I want you to meet Jackson.â
She passed us and didnât look back. âCome along, I said.â
Sophia glanced back over her shoulder and jerked her head at me, urging me to follow. I leaned up on my toes and gave Jax a peck on the lips. âIâll call you and let you know what happens.â
âOkay.â He was staring at Mrs. Keller and Sophia in disbelief. âAre you sure youâre gonna be okay? She seems weirded out.â
âI think Iâll be fine. I mean, what did I really do wrong?â
In the van, on the way home, neither Mrs. Keller nor Sophia spoke. Sophia stared out the passenger window while the boys pinched each other in the second row. As for me, I just waited with bated breath for someone to say something.
It wasnât until after dinner that Mrs. Keller came up to my room, along with Sophia. I was standing near the dresser brushing out my hair. âYou girls will need to pack up tonight. Your social workers will be here in the morning.â
My stomach dropped. âWait, what? What are you talking about?â
Sophia looked up at me with wide eyes. âWe broke the rules, Emmy. Remember, zero tolerance?â
âNo, youâre kidding. Wait . . .â Mrs. Keller wouldnât look at me. She turned on her heel and left the room.
âWhat the fuck?â I yelled.
âShhh!â Sophia said.
âWho cares about being quiet if weâre out of here?! This is insane. What the hell did you do to deserve this?â
âI lied.â
âWhat? What are you talking about?â
Sophia sat on my purple bedspread looking down at her fidgeting hands clasped in her lap. âShe asked me where you were, and I said you were studying at school.â
âWhat if I was? Iâll tell her Jax gave me a ride so I wouldnât be late. What the hell? Why are you getting sent away?â
âThatâs the thing. She saw you at the fishing pond, kissing him by his truck.â She looked up finally with tears in her eyes and a sad smile on her lips.
âOh my god, Sophia, Iâm so sorry.â I started to cry. âBut what will they do? Where will you go?â
âAnother foster home, I guess.â
I sat down and took her in my arms as we both sobbed. âBut youâve been here practically your whole life. This is insane!â
âItâs okay, Emmy. Iâll be okay.â
âNo, I wonât have it. Iâll do whatever. Iâll say whatever, I donât care. Theyâre sending you away for this? I canât believe it.â
âYou know why, though, right?â She sniffled.
âWhy?â
âThey donât actually love us. I donât even think they really like us. Trust me, I didnât just discover this information today. Iâve had seven years to work all this out in my head.â
âBut you said you wanted to be here!â My mind was racing. Where would I go? Where would Sophia go? Would I ever see Jackson again?
Sophia pulled out of my embrace and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her flannel pajamas. âI do want to stay here. Status quo and all that, you know?â I nodded. âItâs comfortable for me, but I can be a big girl about it. They would have found a reason to get rid of me eventually.â
People like Sophia and I had to grow up fast. We knew things about people that most adults hadnât even figured out. The thing was that I knew Mrs. Keller was closer to Sophia than either one of them realized. I stood from the bed, wiped my eyes, and squared my shoulders. âStay here, Soph. Iâm gonna go downstairs for a bit.â
I found Mr. Keller sitting on the sofa in the living room, reading a book. âHello, Mr. Keller.â
âHello.â He looked up over his bifocals.
âI need to use the phone to call my social worker and my family friend Jackson Fisher, who Iâve known my whole life.â My voice was unemotional, pragmatic.
âGo ahead,â he said, and went right back to reading his book.
I walked into the kitchen and dialed Paula first. As the phone rang, I watched the boys as they ate pie and shoved each other. Mrs. Keller was nowhere to be seen or heard. I wondered if she was hiding from me and Sophia. The coward.
âHello?â
âPaula, I need to talk to you.â
âListen, before you say anything, I actually have some good news. I know things went terribly wrong today, but I have some information that I think will change everything.
For a minute, I forgot about the awful predicament I was in. âWhat? Tell me.â
âDo you know of your aunt Becky?â
âI donât have an aunt Becky. I donât have an aunt anyone.â
âActually, you do have an aunt Becky. Everything has been checked out. Sheâs your fatherâs half sister, ten years his junior.â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â To my knowledge, no one from CPS could find my mother, and I had no other living relatives, as far as I knew.
âItâs true.â
âDid my father know about her?â
âHeâs the one who gave us her information. We contacted her in San Francisco, where she lives, and asked her if she would take over guardianship.â
âWhat?!â I shouted. The boys went silent, all three of them staring at me as I leaned against the counter. âIâll have to move to San Francisco?â
âYes.â
âNo, I canât. I canât leave Jackson. Whatâs going to happen to Sophia? Why didnât my father tell me I had an aunt? I donât even know her. Iâll never fit in there. This is going to ruin my life!â
âSlow down.â
I started feeling woozy. Mr. Keller came into the kitchen and braced me by the elbow. I swayed. Quietly, he said, âCome on, sit on the couch.â
When I sat, he left the room. âTheyâre kicking me out because I spent a few hours with Jackson?â
Paulaâs voice became low and soothing. âI know youâve been through a lot. Please hear me out. Sophia is going to a new foster home nearby. Itâs a decent place, but they donât take teenagers, and anyway, believe it or not, your aunt Becky sounds like a very intelligent and warm person. She has no children of her own, and get this . . . Sheâs a creative writing professor at Berkeley.â
âNone of this information is helping. Why didnât my father ever tell me about my aunt?â
âWell, because your aunt is . . . how do I put this? Well, sheâs the product of an affair that your grandfather had, and they had to keep it all hush-hush to avoid a scandal. But apparently your father knew about her. I donât know if they were ever truly in contact, but he wrote to her from prison, and being a very kind and generous person, sheâs agreed to let you come and live with her and her partner, Trina.â
My mouth was open in disbelief. I couldnât even process what she was telling me. I was going to live with my lesbian aunt in California? No fucking way. I wasnât going to leave OhioâI didnât care if the president himself gave me a room at the White House.
âHow much time do I have to disappear?â
She chuckled. âDonât worry, I have a feeling youâll be very happy in this new arrangement. Iâll be there tomorrow at ten a.m. to pick you up.â
We said our good-byes, and then I stormed up the stairs to the second floor and barged through the door of Mrs. Kellerâs bedroom, where I found her sitting on the edge of the bed, crying.
âHow could you do this? I donât care anymore about me, but how could you do this to Sophia? Sheâs been here for seven years. My god, youâre like parents to her. What is wrong with you?â She hung her head silently as I continued. âListen, please. She did nothing wrong. For all she knew, Jax and I were studying. And who cares if she told a little white lie anyway? Please, youâll fuck up that little girl if you send her away. Sheâs so good. Sheâs so innocent.â
Mrs. Keller looked up, her eyes swollen and bloodshot. âI have to. She has to learn that her behavior has consequences.â
âBut your consequences are too extreme. I know you love her. Please donât send her away.â
Mr. Keller walked in behind me. âWhatâs going on?â
âJust hear me out. Youâre all that little girl has. I just discovered I have an aunt, and Iâm almost sixteen. Iâll figure things out. But Sophia is eight and doesnât have another person in this world she can rely on. She loves you and you love her. Youâre good people. You have crazy-ass rules, but youâre good people. Donât do this to her.â I urged, my eyes pleading.
Mr. Keller sat next to Mrs. Keller on the bed. âEmerson, youâre excused. Mrs. Keller and I need to discuss some things. Please go up to your room and gather your things. Your social worker will be here in the morning.â
Before I went to my room, I ran back downstairs, grabbed the phone, and took two stairs at a time until I was in my bedroom. I dialed Jax.
âHey.â
âTheyâre sending me to San Francisco to live with my aunt.â
âWhat? Really?â
âYeah, really.â
âYouâre gonna leave?â His voice was empty, shocked. It wasnât a question. He was trying to process what I had just said.
âYou have to come get me. Iâm not going anywhere.â
âWhere do the Kellers live?â He sounded preoccupied, like he was trying to figure everything out.
âTwo thirty South Primrose.â
âIâll be there, Em, I promise. But it probably wonât be until around one a.m.â
âIâll meet you on the road at one.â
I packed up my clothes, left everything the Kellers had given to me in a neat pile on the bed, and waited. Before lights-out, I walked down to Sophiaâs room. She was reading in a wicker chair near the window. I leaned against the doorjamb.
She looked up and smiled. âWhatever you said worked.â
I was stunned. âReally?â I walked toward her.
She stood up and hugged me. âItâs true. Theyâre letting me stay. They said I would only get this one chance, though.â
âOh my god, you have no idea how happy this makes me. I know you wonât mess up, Soph. Look out for yourself, okay, kid? You donât need to do anything for anyone ever again. Just take care of yourself.â I hugged her again.
âYeah, I guess whatever you said really got to Mrs. Keller. Thanks, friend.â
âIt wasnât me. They love you, okay? They just have a hard time showing it. Mrs. Keller was crying when I went in to confront her. I promise you, it was nothing I said. They want you to be here with them. They just have too much pride in their rules.â
She shrugged. âMaybe. But what about you?â
âIâm San Franciscoâbound.â I smiled, even though I knew it was a lie. I had to play the part.
âWow, thatâs fantastic!â
âYeah, I have an aunt there and sheâs some big-time college professor. Probably loaded. Iâm sure Iâll get a car and stuff.â
âThatâs great, Emmy. We are so lucky.â
âWe are lucky, arenât we?â Sophia was too young to understand the irony. It was better that way.
I said good night to Sophia, and we hugged. I didnât let her know it would be for the last time.
At twelve fifty, I took my small suitcase, left through the back door, and wheeled it a half mile down the road to the main highway. Jackson pulled up in Juniorâs truck right on time, and I hopped in.
âHi,â I said.
He looked exhausted, but he smiled anyway. âHi, beautiful.â
âHardly. I feel like Iâve been run over.â
âYouâre with me. Youâre okay now. We have to go by Carterâs and then Cal Junior will take us home. My momâs working tonight.â
âDoes she know?â
He pulled up to a stop sign and looked over at me. âNo, Em, she canât know. Sheâs crazy. She thinks youâre going to ruin my life. Pretty bold coming from her, huh?â
I still remembered the pain we all felt when Brian died. How could Leila think I would do anything to hurt Jax? âHow would I ruin your life?â It hurt me to say those words.
âShe doesnât want anyone taking her meal ticket from her.â
âWhat does that even mean?â
âSheâs knows Iâll get a scholarship. She knows Iâll do something with my life. My grades are perfect. Iâve already gotten a near-perfect score on the PSAT. Sheâs going to want me to take care of her.â
It occurred to me that asking Jax to help me run away could jeopardize everything for him. Maybe Leila wasnât being as selfish as he thought. Maybe she was looking out for him. Maybe I should too.
âSomeone will catch on. Paula will go to your house . . .â I told him.
âYou really think Paula is gonna go searching past the tree line for you?â
âWhy do you say it like that?â
âItâs just that teenagers go missing all the time and people stop looking. Remember my brotherâs girlfriend? She lived in a fucking storm drain.â He reached over and grabbed my hand. âEverything is going to be fine.â
âI donât want to live in a storm drain, Jackson.â
âNot even with me?â He laughed.
âItâs not funny, and no, not even with you!â
âYou wonât, and we wonât. Everything will be fine. You are too fucking smart, Em. Hell, Iâm too fucking smart, and we work too fucking hard for this shitty life. It wonât happen.â
âSwear to me.â My voice was tiny.
âI swear on your life,â he said, and I believed him. âBut right now Iâm kidnapping you in some loserâs truck so I can hide you in my backyard. Letâs just hope we can get past this part. I donât think colleges will look too fondly at a juvenile record.â
I didnât say anything, but the weight of what we were doing struck me. There was no way to quantify the impact of our actions at that point. It seemed like if I went to San Francisco I would die without himâliterally wilt and turn into dust. But if I stayed, I could be putting his future on the line, and my own. How could I measure the consequences of choosing love at fifteen?
People call teenage relationships puppy love, but what Jackson and I had was far beyond that. We had a lifetime of moments that were meaningful, spiritual, and transcendent. We refused to reduce our love to some flippant expression based on our age. We were mature enough to know that our actions, in that moment, were selfish. He didnât say it, but the impending doom was palpable for both of us. And he was right: we were smart for our age. We both knew that one of us would have to make a sacrifice.
Jax glanced over at me, as if he knew what I was thinking. He grabbed my hand. âEm, just be here in the moment with me for now, okay?â
I smiled back at him, my eyes already watering. âDonât make me cry, please. We were laughing just two minutes ago.â
We rode the rest of the way in silence.