Page 62 of Hidden Lies

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I powered my phone on when the plane landed, and immediately realized my mistake. I’d told the guys I’d text when I arrived, but I hadn’t considered that it would take a hell of a lot longer to get to L.A. than it would have to Chicago. My phone lit up with missed texts.

Garrett: Are you there?

Micah: I miss you already. It’s going to be hard to sleep tonight. I can still smell your scent on my pillow.

I squirmed in my seat, my lips curving in a smile.

Garrett: You promised you’d text. Let me know you’re safe.

My smile faded as Garrett’s messages kept coming.

Garrett: I should have asked for your flight number.

Garrett: Please answer as soon as you can.

Garrett: Camilla.

And the last message—

Devan: Why did the flight attendant prevent the vulture from boarding the plane? …Because he had too much carrion!

This was punctuated with a smiley emoji, and I found myself chuckling quietly, the barrage of messages helping to calm the nervous butterflies swarming in my stomach.

I’d barely had a second without at least one of the guys around since things had started to change between us, but the quantity of messages still seemed like complete overkill, especially from Garrett. I would see them all again in less than four days, and I couldn’t imagine what had them so worked up and seemingly concerned for my safety. As far as they knew I was in for a quiet long weekend with my aunt.

I fired off a quick message to the three of them, letting them know I had arrived safely, then tucked my phone into my pocket and rose to make my way off the plane and through the airport.

The second I stepped outside it was like a crushing weight lifted off my shoulders. Everything was so familiar. The temperature was in the low seventies, a beautiful change from Maine, and I tucked my coat under my arm, reveling in the feel of the dry air and the sight of palm trees and endless black pavement. I was home.

And having finally arrived, I realized I had no idea what to do. Go straight to the tattoo shop? Find a hotel room? Go to the beach?

It was early evening, so finding a place to stay for the night was likely the best choice. But at the same time…

I hadn’t planned to visit my old house. The last time I’d seen it there had been flames flickering in the windows and black smoke billowing from the roof. I didn’t know if it had been reduced to rubble or if the damage had been repaired, but there was nothing left for me there either way. Yet as soon as I was settled in the cab, the driver impatiently waiting for instructions, that was the address that spilled out of my mouth. And once the words were out, I found myself too frozen to take them back.

It took nearly forty-five minutes to reach the quiet neighborhood where I’d been raised, and the cab let me out right in front of a cheery-looking two-story house with a tall red brick chimney and sandstone colored stucco. At first glance, I wondered if I was at the right place. I stood on the sidewalk and stared hard.

The house was nearly unrecognizable as the one where I’d spent my entire childhood and adolescence. The house I remembered from not even a year earlier had had siding rather than stucco, a different color roof—even some of the windows were shaped differently. The hedges lining the driveway that my parents had let run wild were carefully landscaped now, and an unfamiliar car was parked in the drive.

And yet the little details were the same. There was the tree I’d planted in first grade. There was the second-story window that led to my bedroom. There was the mailbox, still slightly dented from where I’d dinged it with my car when I’d been learning to drive.

It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing your own reflection. The same house, and yet utterly different. I couldn’t even look at this place and pretend my parents were inside. My throat grew tight. I knew I shouldn’t have come here; this wasn’t their house—wasn’t my house—and there was no closure to be found here.

For half a second I considered walking down the block and knocking on the door to my old friend Jessica’s house, but I quickly dismissed that idea. There was little left in me that resembled the person she’d expect to see, and I hadn’t the slightest clue what I’d say to her if she was even home.

Tears stung my eyes and I blinked them away, determined not to lose my shit here on the sidewalk. Instead I turned away from the house I no longer recognized and walked away. I didn’t look back.

33

I ended up at a cheap motel walking distance from both the beach and the tattoo shop. I didn’t have it in me to deal with anything else that night, so I ordered in Chinese takeout and sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, eating it out of the carton. The guys had each texted me again, but my emotions were still on overdrive, so I added them all to a group text and told them I was going to bed, then proceeded to do just that.

Despite the unfamiliar room and the emotional day, somehow I managed to fall asleep quickly and sleep like the dead, not even awakening until the morning sun was high in the sky. I felt calmer, more well-rested than I had been in ages.

The tattoo studio didn’t open until early afternoon, so after eating cold leftovers I made my way down to the beach. The weather was perfect and the waves were dotted with surfers, perfect clear blue ocean as far as the eye could see under a cloudless sky, and for a moment it was like I’d never left. I could just pick an empty spot, set up my easel, and paint to my heart’s content, and so long as I didn’t glance to the side, I’d never even know my dad wasn’t there painting next to me.

I didn’t have any painting supplies in my bag though, and no desire to sit on the beach and lie to myself, so instead I took off my shoes and socks and shoved them into my backpack, then turned and made my way down the beach. The sand was warm under my feet and the roar of the waves loud in my ears, and the longer I walked the more peaceful I felt, the calmer my thoughts became, the more sure I felt that coming here hadn’t been a bad idea after all, but something I had needed to do.

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