Page 56 of Evil All Along
“Oh, hi, Keme,” I said in what had to be the least convincing attempt at acting natural in the history of the world.
He planted himself in front of me and folded his arms. “Go away.”
“Um, no?” It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question, butyoutry sounding firm and authoritative when Keme’s bottomless dark eyes are staring back at you. After Indira’s bracing little speech, though—which had mostly consisted ofDon’t be a coward—I felt obligated to add, “I’m glad I caught you. I was hoping you’d come home so we could talk about this.”
He stared at me for five more seconds before he turned and strode back toward the bus stop.
Because I didn’t have any better ideas, I followed him.
“I know you’re, uh, upset,” I said as I trotted along at his heels. “And that’s totally understandable. Totally. I, like, completely get it. I was mad too when—okay, could you slow down? I was mad too when they thought I killed Vivienne, and—and I know it’s different because you grew up here and everyone knows you and it’s so much worse when you realize the people you’ve spent your whole life with believe you’re capable of murder…” I trailed off when I heard myself industriously making this situation so much worse. “But, um, we love you, and we want you to come home. The end. End of speech. Finito.”
He stopped at the little Greyhound sign, shrugged his backpack up again, and stared across the street at an empty office that used to be a dry cleaner. A lone car whizzed past us. In its wake, the buzzing of the security light mounted high above the bus stop seemed louder than before.
“So,” I said, “great talk. Why don’t we get some ice cream and wait—”
“No.”
“Okay, we could get some popcorn from the concession stand in the lobby, I guess. Oh! And Red Hots—”
He rounded on me so abruptly that I rocked back on my heels. “Go. Away.”
“Keme, I know—”
“You don’t know anything! I’m not going back there!” He looked like he tried to stop there, but after a beat, words hot with frustration slipped out of him. “Leave me alone!”
Silence again. And the droning sound of the light overhead.
“What about Indira?” I said. “You’re going to break her heart.”
“She understands,” Keme muttered, but he couldn’t look at me.
“What about Bobby? What about Fox?”
He looked smaller now, huddling against the cold.
“What about Millie?”
He made an ugly noise. And then he spat.
I wasn’t sure why, but that made my brain go red. “That’s really nice, Keme. She’s bawling her eyes out back at Hemlock House because you’re leaving, but I guess that doesn’t matter to you.”
He shook his head.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. “You don’t care that she wants you to stay?”
“Nope.”
“Poppycock.” (I mean, that’skindof what I said.) “I’m supposed to believe that you don’t care that your best friend in the entire world—”
His head came up. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“—the girl you spend every waking minute with—”
Keme’s gaze swung back to me. “Stop talking.”
“—the girl you’re desperately in love—”
“I said shut up!” The scream was so loud it got mangled in his throat. “Shut up!”
