Page 29 of When We Were Magic
“What’s this?” I call out, even though it’s totally obviouswhat “this” is. At the same time, Nico barrels out of his bedroom, headphones draped around his neck, backpack swinging from one shoulder.
“What’s what?” he asks, and then he stops short next to me.
I sniff the air. “Why do you smell like Pop?”
He flushes. “Meredith didn’t like the way my cologne smelled, so I’m trying his. Are those … lunches?”
I peer into the bag with my name on it. There’s a ham sandwich, a banana, and a granola bar. Nico shows me his—he has the dubious yogurt instead of the granola bar.
“Why is Dad packing us lunches? He’s never packed us lunches before.”
“Just take it,” I whisper. “You’ll hurt his feelings if you don’t.”
Nico shoves the bag into his backpack. He looks indignant. “I know,” he mutters. “I’m not a total idiot.”
“Hey,” I start to say—but he’s already gone, walking out to the garage to wait for Dad in the car. I sigh and drop my own bag lunch into my backpack. I catch Dad doing his tie in the hall mirror. I give him a hug, a long one.
“What’s this for?” he asks.
“Just … thanks for the lunch,” I say. He rests his scratchy chin on top of my head and gives me an extra squeeze, and I know that my life is better than I’ll ever deserve. Because of my friends. Because of my brother. Because of my dads.
I wish there was some way for me to be good enough for them.
When I get to school, almost no one is there. I walk to my locker to drop off my sad bag lunch, and I don’t see a single person on my way. The school feels so liminal when it’s empty—there are scuff marks on the linoleum but no sneakers leaving new ones. Rows of empty desks in every dark classroom I pass. Half the lights in the halls are still turned off. There’s gumeverywhere. I get distracted by how haunted and strange the school is, and I almost walk right by the flowers without noticing them.
The senior lockers are all in the same hallway, so it stands to reason that Josh’s locker would be near mine. I’ve probably passed him standing by his locker a dozen times without noticing him. I’ve probably bumped into him on his way to class.
It shouldn’t surprise me, is what I’m saying.
And yet it does. The third locker from the end of the hallway. It must be his, because it’s been turned into a kind of altar. Someone put his yearbook photo on it. Drugstore carnations are heaped against the base of the locker, and notes stick out through the ventilation slits in the door. Someone duct-taped a teddy bear to the metal. I stare at it. It’s a little white bear, and it’s holding a heart. The duct tape covers its arms, so it’s hard to tell if the heart says anything on it. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” probably. I wonder, briefly, what the bear is supposed to be for. Is it supposed to be a gift to comfort Josh when he comes back from whatever ordeal has madehim disappear? Is it an offering, a hope that he’ll be able to get back whatever childhood is taken from him while he’s gone?
If Josh came back and saw that white bear, what would he do with it? What use would a traumatized eighteen-year-old have for that little plush toy?
I stroke the bear’s paw with my fingers, vividly remembering how Roya’s skin felt when I did the same thing just yesterday. Remembering her fingers brushing that sudden bruise away from my leg.
I wish I could have had a dream about that. I didn’t realize how much I missed dreaming about Roya, until I stopped.
“You must really miss him.”
I snatch my hand back as though the bear has burned me. “What?”
When I turn around, Gina Tarlucci is standing behind me with her arms folded over her camera. I almost never see her when we’re not in class or at the soccer field making awkward small talk. She’s wearing a pink-and-gray floral dress that makes her look like something out of a 1950s movie about surfers. She looks down at me with sad, sympathetic eyes. “I just meant, this is probably really hard for you.” She gestures at the locker. “You guys were a thing, right?”
My reaction is immediate and visceral. “What? No. No, we—no, we werenota thing. I barely even knew him.” I wince. “Know him. I don’t evenknowhim.”
Gina’s eyebrows shoot up. She plants a hand on one ample hip and purses her lips. “Um, okay, well, that’s interesting.”
My phone is buzzing in my pocket again, but I ignore it. I don’t like the way she says “interesting.”
“I don’t think there’s anything interesting about it,” I snap. “It’s just the truth. Ask anybody.”
“So, I guess what I saw at prom was just some friendly making-out between strangers?” she hisses. I glance up and down the hallway—thank goodness, we’re alone. When I look back at her, I can tell that checking to see if anyone could hear her was the wrong move. A triumphant smile is spreading across her face. She starts fidgeting with her shiny brown braid. I fight the sudden impulse to give it a sharp yank and run away as fast as my legs can take me. “What, was it supposed to be a secret?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have mixed me up with someone else,” I say, gritting my teeth.
“Um, no. You two almost sat on me,” she says. “I’m still finding glitter from your dress on all my stuff. Trust me, I know who I saw.” She looks at his locker, and her brows draw together. “Why don’t you want people to know that you were a couple? I won’t tell anyone, but … I mean, it’s weird. Everyone would probably want to support you.”
Two freshmen walk through the hall. Gina and I stand silently, trying not to look like we’re waiting for the freshmen to be gone before we finish talking. My mind is racing.Gina saw. A knot of terror forms in my gut.
