Page 61 of What You Left Me

Flat on my back, Daniel’s hoodie soaked by dew and freezing my skin, I can only half remember how I arrived here. It started with a nightmare and a need for air. Now the light of a new day lifts the veil off the sleeping world, and I’m lying in the middle of the football field. I’ve woken up in some odd places this weekend, but none stranger than here.

• • •

Petra pulled me back to the masquerade, but this time without all the bad things. It was just her and me dancing, alone on the football field, dressed in our finest. Her dream lasted for its own eternity, then faded out like a movie you could watch over and over, letting it play all the way through the end credits. The beauty of the way she looked, the way we moved together, the quiet of the night—it was exactly what I needed to know I’m not alone.

• • •

It’s coming back to me. Martin and I dancing on the football field, dressed in our finest. He kept asking questions, but I didn’t answer. I asked him to exist with me. Be patient for once. He listened. He let me dance with him.

I clutch my chest, pulling the perfect night in close. Whenever I need to, I can transport myself back to the star-covered football field, rest my head on Martin’s shoulder, and let the warmth of the memory lift my feet off the ground.

• • •

Petra asked me to be patient. I reminded myself of that as I came back to the scene of the accident. Being patient there meant putting up with the pain of pushing against the invisible fortress of Spitty’s memory. Knowing that moving the steering wheel wouldn’t be enough, but it would be a start. Small changes.

I almost stopped it all from happening.

Almost.

• • •

With a thud, I come crashing down. Someone is dead.

Then panic shoots through every vertebra of my spine. It’s Monday.

The exam is today.

• • •

It might be a coincidence, or it might be a result of the small change, but things are shifting again, like they did the first time I died. If I squeeze my eyes, which seem to somehow be back in the head I sort of have again, there is something like sound. White noise. I’m not remembering it. I’m hearing it, like it’s really there.

It should scare me, but it doesn’t. I have a safe place. A mind I can trust, even when everything turns to chaos. Someone who can find me when I think I might be lost forever.

I have Petra.

34

Slipping in as I slipped out, I find everything the way I left it. I’ve felt an overwhelming sense of nausea since I left the school. Among many other things, I remembered that I left Daniel’s door unlocked and I didn’t bring my cell phone. Seeing the peaceful sleeping faces of my three best friends helps settle my nerves a bit. The little night trip was just for me, and I’m the only one who will ever know. I tiptoe up the staircase and back into Daniel’s room. My cell phone sits on the nightstand beside Daniel’s bed. I grab it to check the time.

It’s still so early. I have hours before I need to be at the school for my final.

I clear out all my voicemails so that I never have to listen to my parents’ pleading messages or Ryan’s incessant begging for a chance to talk. Feeling emboldened, I send him my own message.

I owe you nothing. I don’t have to speak to you if I don’t want to. And I don’t want to. There’s nothing more to say than that. Please leave me alone. Goodbye.

I block his number.

It’s so simple, yet so powerful. One small step toward a bigger change.

I glance at the rest of my unread texts and notice one from my sister Jessica.

I’m sorry that I didn’t tell M&D where you were. Mom said Dad threatened to kick you out and then you actually left. When I got home last night, Dad was crying in the kitchen. It was the weirdest thing. I don’t know if that helps, but I know he feels bad. We all do. Please come home. Or call me. You could call Caroline too I guess, but we all know I’m your favoritest sister ;) I love you, Petty. And I’m sooo proud of you! Eleventh in the class is only two lower than my rank. Screw Caroline and her valedictorian crown! Haha! But really, a little secret. In college, none of what you did in high school will matter.

My parents still haven’t told my sisters about the whole not officially graduating thing. Maybe they’ll never have to. That would be nice.

I take a shower.

With a towel wrapped around my head and not a stitch of makeup on my face, I throw on whatever clothes I can scrounge together. I can’t believe it was only three days ago I stood in front of my mirror getting ready for Martin’s party, making sure my makeup portrayed my casual coolness and my hair showed my effort without screaming it. Now I’m grateful Aminah grabbed clean underwear.