Dead to You - Page 13/48

We meet the principal and the school counselor and then she walks me through my schedule. It’s easy and I’m really just anxious to get away from her. She walks me back to my first period, and thankfully I get a seat without too much staring.

I don’t know anybody in my classes. At lunch, I just sit alone in the middle of the cafeteria and people mostly come and go around me, but some of them say they know me. I tune most of it out and smile when I’m supposed to. Sometimes I pretend to remember something—it’s almost a sport now, after the weekend family disaster.

The teachers are decent enough not to make some big announcement about me being there, although one of them, Ms. Gibbons, gets a little gushy, calls me a hero and a survivor. In the hallways, a few people stop me and say stupid “I thought you were dead” things, but I try to stay low-key. I mean, how do you answer that? “Thank you”? Eyes on the ground or on the map, scowl on my face. Most of them either don’t remember because they were too young, or they don’t really care. Fine by me.

When the bell rings at the end of the day, I manage to find my locker again. I grab my stuff and take off to the bus, stuck behind foot traffic. The crowd shifts and moves as one huge mass. Finally, I bust through the doors to the bus line. My stomach twists when I see her long, black hair.

And the guy who’s touching it.

CHAPTER 14

And then they’re kissing. He’s leaning back against the bus and she’s leaning into him. And I—I’m suddenly doubled up in hysterics, laughing uncontrollably with a crowd all around me, feeling like a total psycho loser and unable to stop it, so I drop down to one knee. Start tying my shoe. Gasping and laugh-crying down at the snow-packed cement as people bang into me, their knees catching my kidneys and shoulders and digging in a little harder than they need to, because I’m there, in their way.

When I finally get it under control, I stand up, take a deep breath and let it out, and move past Cami and the asswipe. I get on the bus and sit up against the window, staring out at them.

I have no idea what to do when she climbs on the bus, alone, and sits with me.

“How was it?” she asks.

“How was what?”

“Your first day, duh.”

“Fine.” The bus chugs out of the lineup and we’re moving, heading toward the middle school, where we pick up the next load of students.

She just looks at me. “Is something wrong?”

I want to yell. Not at her. Just loudly. Scream, so the crap and buildup of everything can get out. I want to hurt somebody. Anybody. Seriously, I could beat the crap out of a little kid right now. I grip my knees and talk myself through it.

The feeling passes.

“Ethan?” She leans in, concerned, and I can smell her. Jesus. Baths together. Fuck.

“I’m fine,” I say, and change the subject. Blurting it out. “Tell me what happened after.”

“After school?”

“After I disappeared.”

She slumps back in the seat. “Oh.” She shakes her head. “Oh, that.” She takes a deep breath. “It was pretty terrible. Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” I say, smiling through gritted teeth. “Please.” We come to a stop in front of the middle school just as the students start streaming out of the building. There is chaos as they load. They are so loud. I want them to shut up. Blake raises an eyebrow as he walks past our seat, but says nothing.

“Well, from what I remember, I guess Blake told your mom that you got into a black car. Then your mom called my mom, all hysterical. She asked if you were at our house. Of course you weren’t. So we all went out and started looking around the neighborhood for you, and Blake kept yelling about you getting into the backseat of the car. Then the cops came and I guess they got the word out to look for a black four-door, but that’s all the information they had.”

I am lost in the description. “It was gray inside,” I say softly, imagining it, but I have no idea where I get that from. I didn’t remember the abduction, but now, it sort of feels like I do, a little. Like hearing the story fills in a little piece of my life.

“The whole neighborhood was looking. We walked for hours, after dark with flashlights, and in shifts for days afterward. Calling out for you. But if you were in a car, I don’t know why we spent so much time in the neighborhood. I think maybe people weren’t sure they could believe Blake. He was really little.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s so pissed,” I say, looking out the window.

Cami shrugs. “I just thought he was so sad about what happened.”

I don’t know what to say.

“We searched for you for, like, three weeks. It was on the news every day.”

We sit in silence. I think about it all. Wonder if they would have found me if they’d just believed Blake.

“Hey, Ethan?” Cami touches my thigh.

“Yeah?” I stare at her hand. I think I can probably take the asswipe, once I get all my strength back and beef up a little. Maybe.

“My mom taped the news. When it happened, I mean. It’s on a video. You want to see? I think our VCR in the minivan still works.”

I nod and focus. “Yes,” I say. “Yes.”

We get off the bus and walk to her house. She gets the key from inside and starts up the minivan. “We used to take this beast on trips when I was little. I have an older brother, you know,” Cami says. “Josh. He’s in college now. We used to fight about what videos to watch.” I like how thoughtful she is, letting me know she has a brother without making me feel stupid about not remembering things. We sit in the middle row of the old minivan in her driveway. The engine is running, but the heat hasn’t choked its way out yet. Our combined breath fogs the windows, and I’m freezing. Cami leans forward and messes with the VCR, trying to get the tape to play. “I used to watch this over and over,” she says simply. “I had a really hard time letting you go.”