Alive (18 page)

There’s a roar as loud as the Pacific Ocean and then, from the gutter openings on the side of the street, water gushes out onto the concrete. The first spray slams my car door. I tighten
my grip on the steering wheel and press on the gas pedal toward the shrinking spot of open asphalt.

Droplets splatter the windshield. I squeeze my eyelids shut and then open them, but nothing changes.

The water sweeps in from all sides.

The next wave crashes into the passenger side and slams me the other way. My temple knocks against the glass, smashing it.

I can’t tell if the crack I hear is my skull or the window. A trail of blood begins sliding down toward my chin just as the wheels lift from the ground and the car tilts over onto its
side.

The car lands with a metal thud; I hear the back window shatter. A Coke can falls out the passenger-side window. I lean into the steering wheel, screaming.

Then, the water starts to seep into the cracks. First in the door and then through the rifts in the window. It’s rising all around and it smells of seaweed and cold and salted fish.

I push at the water with my hands. Slapping it away. Flailing.

Through the boom of the water I hear blaring horns, insistent and shrill. I fight through the water, look back through the broken back windshield. Only it’s not broken at all.

Two angry drivers lay on their horns behind me. I swivel back and find myself stopped dead in the middle of the street. The sun shines impossibly bright and I squint to see that
everything’s exactly as it should be.

I wipe my cheek. No blood. The windows? Unbroken. And my clothes are bone dry.

Another car joins the chorus. The air fills with the noise of honking horns. Shaking, I lift my foot from the brake.

More cautiously this time, I let the Jetta creep forward. My mind feels soggy and my hands tremble like autumn leaves. It’s 5:05 by the time I pull into my driveway. Inside, Mom’s
holding out the pills in her fist, measured for me and warm from her grip. She doesn’t say anything when I tear by her, but she doesn’t have to. I know by the lines around her mouth
that she’s not only worried, but angry at me for treating my gift, the one that cost them ten college educations, with the same level of care as a sweatshirt from Goodwill.

But she doesn’t stop me. By the time I get the pills down and chase them with a couple mouthfuls of water, it’s time. And then—

The next day at school, my chest feels as though it’s recovering from an infected bullet wound. Three more days, I bargain with myself. If it doesn’t stop
I’ll go see Dr. Belkin. The thought of hoisting myself up onto another examination table, of being issued another hospital bracelet, makes my stomach turn sour. Weak and feverish, I
wouldn’t have come to school at all but for Levi. I don’t care that it’s only first period. I need to see him.

The lecture begins with a stuffy drone on the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. History used to be my favorite subject. I did extra credit for it. Now it feels useless and like
I’m being confined in a pen with twenty other students for no reason.

I count the minutes, then the seconds, until I can’t stand it any longer. I slide my phone under my desk, keeping it out of view, and text Levi. The whole point in coming is to see him, so
what am I doing here? I sigh too loudly. Our teacher’s eyes snap to me, but she doesn’t stop talking. It’s as if she’s applying a cheese grater to my ears. I’m antsy.
Agitated. Can’t sit still. I quietly slide my elbows off my desk. My eyes meet Henry’s. Our gazes lock together like magnets. My lips part, but he cuts his glance away with the
sharpness of what may as well be a knife.

I hesitate for a split second before reanimating and excuse myself to use the restroom. But when I slip out of the classroom, I head straight for the glowing red
EXIT
sign at the end of the hallway. I take one look over my shoulder before pushing through into the open air.

Whenever I leave the school building, I get the briefest sensation that I’m entering another world. The effect is double when I leave at a time that I should be in class.

The space behind the school building has the feeling of lawless abandonment while at the same time being peppered with signs that somebody’s been here. Aluminum cans and discarded chip
bags litter the grass, which is dead, permanently blocked from the sun by the colossal brick mass of Duwamish High. Even the air holds onto the shadowy cold.

I cross through the darkest patch into the woods.

When I step into the tree line, the trunks are actually plentiful, but within several paces, I can see that the forest is shallow and that the number of trees quickly thins out within less than
a quarter mile.

My footsteps are soft on the floor of matted pine needles. I’ve never set foot back here. A good girl wouldn’t.

I breathe the smell of tree sap and rain. There’s a snap of a twig. I whirl around to see Levi, picking his way down an overgrown path.

“You made it,” I say, my insides bubbling like soda water.

His grin is wolfish and it takes self-restraint not to throw myself into his arms. The second he’s close, my rib cage unclamps, and I take what feels like my first full breath in two
days.

“In the flesh,” he says, erasing the distance between us. I feel my heart rate spike. A mixture of Levi’s sudden closeness and the fact that I’m cutting class to see
him.

“What did you need?” he asks. Only Levi could make our school uniforms look cutting-edge. He wears his shirt and his pants too tight. A ropy bracelet twists around his wrist and a
guitar pick hangs on a piece of hemp close to this throat. I shiver as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Maybe it’s this electric charge that gives me courage, but before I can stop
myself—

“I needed you.” I stand up on my tippy-toes and press my lips gently against his. And it’s as if a knot in my stomach untangles loop by loop. He tenses. Breath hitches. I feel
the tightness reach his mouth and I pull away, lowering back onto my heels, worried I may have done something wrong.

His eyebrows draw together. I catch the strain in his face. He needs this as much as I do. I try to speak, but his arm wraps around my lower back and he yanks me into him. He holds me roughly
against his chest while he runs his hands down my sides, pulling at the fabric of my shirt.

His tongue forces my lips apart. He mumbles something unintelligible. The hand at my back slides up to the space between my shoulder blades, where he grabs a fistful of my polo. I gasp. His
mouth pushes harder into mine. Hot and salty.

For once there’s nothing but pleasure. Outside in the broad daylight, we kiss. The pain and sickness that drag at me like cement blocks are less than a memory. I want more. He gropes at my
arms, my neck, my waist. Each touch sends my heart pounding so hard I’m sure it’ll burst through my chest.

I kiss him harder and he returns it voraciously. I run my hand over his stomach. His abs tighten. We both pant. Quick breaths. Shallow.

His teeth softly bite my lip. I rock my hips into his. He murmurs. I don’t want this to end. The breeze blows through the trees. Goose bumps erupt over my skin.
This
. More of
this
, is all I can think, my thoughts muddled and heady. I slide my hands over his hips. He runs his fingers through my short hair, playing with the strands. He holds me to him. And
there’s this moment again, the feeling of standing above-water with toes hanging off the pier, of doing the one thing that no one expects of me. And I wonder what else I will do and how much
further I will go to chase this rush.

If I keep pushing for the next high, will I eventually fall?

It’s Thursday. The throbbing in my chest is raw as I pace the living room floor with Elsie on my hip. My parents have a dinner thing tonight. They’re sucking up to
me since I agreed I’d go see Dr. Belkin. After giving me a twenty-minute lecture on the dangers of underage sex, they said I could have Levi over while I watched Elsie. Naturally,
Elsie’s chosen this moment to be fussy. Her tiny face is pinched into a raisin. I know this face. It’s the one that comes right before the screaming.

“Come on, Elsie.” I tickle her tummy. “Just this once, please?” I beg, and in response she balls her hands into fists.

“No! No! No!” She tosses her head into my shoulder.

“Elsieeee,” I whine. “I’m your big sister. Trust me, when you’re in high school, you’ll understand.” My tone is singsongy.

A new whimper escapes and I pace faster, bobbing her up and down, up and down. I glance at the door. He should be here.

As if knowing, Elsie grabs at my breast and together we stare at her tiny hand, pressed into my bra. “’Ella.” Spit bubbles crop up on her lips, but, for the moment, she’s
quiet. I try not to move, my heart thumping against her, when the doorbell rings.

Elsie breaks out screaming like I’m ripping out her toenails. “Christ, Elsie!” My blood pressure spikes as I hurry to the door. The last thing I need is for Levi to think I
make a habit of torturing small children.

I jiggle the doorknob and Levi’s standing there looking painfully beautiful. “Whatcha doing in there?” he asks, stepping over the threshold.

Elsie wails.

“God, I know, right?” I try pressing Elsie’s head to my chest and rocking her. “And to think we hadn’t even started the Chinese waterboarding.”

Levi laughs. Our eyes catch. I blush and look away. I rub the back of my neck, prickling from the memory of the two of us in the woods. “What, um…” The words stick in my
throat. “What’d you bring?”

He flashes a DVD. “
Live at Reading
. Your education continues,” he says, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Live at who?” I battle Elsie to be heard. Her flimsy baby nails scratch at my arms.

“The ‘who’ is Nirvana. The ‘where’ is Reading. Full concert feature. Get with the program, Cross.” He nudges me.

“Whyyyyy?”
Elsie howls, her face now tomato red.
“Whyyyy?”
Tears slide down her cheeks and into her mouth.

“Want me to try?” Levi asks, holding out his arms for Elsie.

“Seriously?”

His fingers twitch, gesturing me to hand her over. I bite my lip and do what he says. As soon as he scoops Elsie up, she stops crying. It’s as if someone’s flipped a switch. On, then
off. Me, then Levi. He smiles at her, white teeth gleaming, and she grins back with her fingers hanging half out of her mouth.

“That’s better,” Levi whispers. “I’m Levi.” He points to himself. “Levi.” He bops her nose. “Elsie.”

She giggles. “Eevi,” she repeats. I can’t help but giggle right along with her.

“Okay, how did you do that?” I fold my arms over my chest. No way is that the same kid I was holding two seconds earlier.

Levi winks and starts walking Elsie around the room, gently bouncing her as she watches him like he’s a slice of chocolate cake. It must run in the family.

“Is that your sister?” Levi asks in his best baby talk, pointing to a photograph of me with my parents pre-Elsie. “Yeah? It is?” he answers for her and continues down the
line. “Who’s that? Is that you?” She hides her face in his shoulder. “But you look so pretty, Miss Elsie. Why are you hiding?”

Elsie peeks again, sniffling, and, mimicking Levi, finally points at the framed picture.

“Hey, you guys have a hot tub.” Levi peers through the blinds, looking out at our backyard.

I stand at a distance from Levi, on the other side of the room, watching him with Elsie, who shakes her brown curls and sneezes. “Well, it’s certainly not our bathtub.”

Levi looks at the window a second longer. “Shall we?” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Shall we what?”

“Go in the Jacuzzi. It works, doesn’t it?” His grin is devilish.

My mouth goes dry. I asked a boy to my house while my parents aren’t home. What did I expect? And besides, it’s not that I don’t want to, but the thought of putting on a
bathing suit in front of Levi makes my throat practically close up.

“We’ve got Elsie, though. We can’t just leave her in here by herself.” My parents would kill me.

Elsie clutches one of Levi’s fingers. Her bright green eyes are the exact same color as mine. “Jeez, I’m not that irresponsible.” His eyes cover the length of me.
“Not that I wouldn’t like to be.” He pauses for that to sink in. “I meant that she’d come with us. We can hold her. It’ll be fun and Elsie will love it,
won’t you, Elsie?”