Ashes to Ashes (20 page)

I couldn't do it. After all this time, after all he's done to me, I couldn't do it. Through his eyes I saw everything. I felt
everything. Pain. Joy. Despair. Regret. Everything. All the things I've forgotten how to feel.

Love.

I know now that I'll never be able to kill Reeve. That's why I haven't done it already, when I've had so many chances. I've been holding back. I'm never going to be able to kill him.

But he still has to pay for what he did. Otherwise I'll never be free. But if not me . . .

And then I remember.

Reeve was the one who tormented me into doing the unthinkable. Taking my own life. He's got to be the one to do it. There's no other way.

I
PUSH THROUGH THE POOL
door, and the first thing I notice is how quiet it is. How eerily quiet. Then I let out a scream that bounces off every wall. Reeve's body is floating in the center of the pool, facedown.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.

“Help! Somebody help!” I scream. Then I jump into the pool, thrash over to him, and drag him to the side.

As soon as the air hits his face, Reeve takes a guttural, bubbling breath. His skin is white. I try to hoist him out of the water, but he's too heavy, plus I am crying my eyes out. I'm
just holding on to the edge of the pool, trying to keep us both afloat.

He takes another breath, and then another, and the color in his face slowly returns. He looks at me and starts coughing and wheezing and trying to get air into his lungs. He launches into a coughing fit. I push myself out of the water and drag him up with all my might. He helps hoist himself up, but he barely has any strength. He sits bent over, his legs dangling in the water, trying to get a good breath.

I scramble to my feet and run over to the bleachers, grab his towel, and drape it over his shoulders. He's shaking; he won't stop shaking. “I'm fine, I'm fine. I just—need a minute—to catch—my breath.”

I let out a choked sob and sink down beside him on the ground. I thought he was dead. “Oh my God,” I say, and then I'm crying so hard, I can't see.

“Cho, don't cry,” he begs. “I'm okay. I'm fine.”

Through my tears I ask him, “Wh-what
happened
?”

Dazedly he says, “I don't know. I—I must have passed out in the water.”

I wrap his towel tighter around his shoulders. Last night's dream comes into focus. I remember Reeve in the water. Mary.

I dreamed that this would happen.

My eyes dart around the room. I can't shake this feeling
of unease. I rise to my feet; my legs feel weak and unsteady. “Can you stand up?”

“You're soaking wet,” he says, touching my heavy sweatshirt hem.

I help him to his feet. I collect my shoes, his gym bag, my towel. We go out to the parking lot and climb into his truck, and Reeve looks at me and says, “Why don't you get changed first? You're freezing. Do you have any dry clothes?” He starts rummaging around in the back for my towel.

“Reeve, I'm fine! You're the one who almost drowned.” I just want to get out of here.

Reeve starts up the truck. “Where are we going? Your house?”

Suddenly my home, my room, doesn't exactly feel safe. I spot the ring of keys in his console. “Take me to one of your dad's rentals,” I say, and I grab his hand and don't let go.

*  *  *

We drive to the other side of the island, to Canobie Bluffs. It's starting to rain, and Reeve is driving one-handed because I won't let go of his other hand. I keep twisting in my seat, looking out the back, to the side, every direction. I don't know what I'm looking for.

Yes, I do. Mary. I keep expecting to see Mary, even though I know she isn't here, and it was only a dream, and there's no way she had anything to do with what happened at the pool.
But still. I'm afraid. More than afraid. I'm terrified.

We drive down an empty-looking street, all vacant rental properties with signs out front. Reeve pulls into the driveway of a gray Cape Cod cottage that faces the water. He has a grimace on his face. “Let's get you inside where you can warm up and dry off.”

I look out the window. “Park the car in the garage.”

Reeve obeys. We get out of the truck and walk into the house. It's dark. Reeve starts turning on lights, and I pull all the curtains closed. He goes over to the fireplace and starts stacking logs. “Go dry off. I'll have a fire going in no time.”

I don't want to let him out of my sight, so I just take off my wet sweatshirt and wrap myself in the throw from the couch.

After the fire's going, he sits down on the couch next to me. He starts drying my hair with the edge of the blanket. “I don't want you to catch a cold,” he says, with so much tenderness I start to cry again.

I have to tell him. About Mary, about the revenge, about everything. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Just a sob.

“I'm fine,” he says. “I'm fine.” Reeve wipes my eyes with his sleeve.

Sniffling, I say, “You always take such good care of me, Reeve.” Why can't Mary see how good he is? He's not the monster she makes him out to be.

He takes off his sweatshirt. “Put this on.”

I push it away and start kissing him. His cheeks are cool to the touch. I could have lost him today. That's what I keep thinking. And once I tell him what we did, what I did, I'll lose him for good. There's no way he'll still love me once he knows the truth. What we have now, it will be over. Because it's not just the drugs—that part he knows about, even if he's never let me say the actual words out loud. It's not just that I'm responsible for him losing his football scholarships and not finishing out the season. It's the fact that the only reason I went after him in the first place was to pull a prank on him. And that all this time I've known his worst, darkest, most horrible secret, the secret he's guarded so carefully.

I lean back against the couch so that I'm lying down, and I pull him with me. “I love you so much,” I tell him, over and over. I run my hands over his back, down his spine. His back muscles flex against my hands. I feel frenzied with wanting him near. Proof he's here with me. I keep pulling him closer, closer. Our arms and legs are entwined, and we're both breathing hard.

“Lil,” he groans. He tries to push away from me and sit up, but I won't let him. I cling more tightly.

I whisper, “Don't stop.”

“Let's take a break for a second.”

I shake my head. “I don't want to take a break.” This could be it for us. Once I tell him the truth, who knows what will happen next.

“Are you—are you sure?”

“Yes.”

I push the blanket away, and it drops to the floor. His head jerks up. “Wait—are you
sure
sure? Because I don't want to do anything if you're not sure. You're still upset from what happened at the pool.”

I reach up and smooth his damp hair. “I've never been surer about anything in my life,” I tell him. “Do you have—do you have a condom?”

He hesitates and then says, “There might be some in my truck. I've put them in there before because my mom cleans my room and sometimes she snoops in my drawers. But sometimes Tommy uses my truck too. I definitely wasn't assuming that you and I—I mean, they're from before—” His face is reddening, and he's starting to stutter. “They're from before we ever got together. They might even be expired.”

It's sweet, how nervous he is. I'm not mad, not one bit. I'm glad he's prepared. “Can you just stop talking and hurry up and get it?”

Reeve jumps up and runs out the front door. He's back in, like, two seconds and is hovering above me.

And then he's kissing down my throat, my chest, my breasts. His breath is warm and it feels good. I close my eyes and hold on to his forearms. I can hear the rain falling into the ocean. I feel like I am in a boat, safe and sound at sea, where no one can hurt us. That's what I'm pretending right now. We are miles away from here, Reeve and me.

I feel him untying my bikini bottoms. “Is this okay?”

I'm nervous, my heart is racing, but I don't want him to stop, so I keep my eyes closed and say, “Mm-hm.”

Then he's touching me, and my eyes fly open, and I jerk against his hand. For the first time I'm glad about how many other girls he's been with, because he's so good at this. At making me feel good. Nothing has ever felt better than this. I press my face into his shoulder so I don't gasp out loud. And then I feel him against me, and he asks one more time. “Are you sure? Because I love you and I'll wait as long as you want.”

I look right into his eyes. With my eyes I tell him how much I trust him. How glad I am that it's him. “Yes. I want you to be the first. My real first.”

He kisses me on the mouth, so sweetly, and he pushes inside me, and it hurts, just a little. I bite my lip. He kisses me again, and he's moving, and I'm moving with him, and the pain is starting to fade away, and I just feel joyous. So this is what it feels like to give yourself to someone you love. My
eyes well up and I wipe them on Reeve's shoulder.

After, he rests his cheek on my chest and closes his eyes. I know what he's doing. He's listening to my heartbeat. “I want to be with you forever, Lillia.”

*  *  *

On the way home Reeve keeps asking if I'm okay. I tell him yes, yes, I'm fine. With every second that passes, I lose my nerve to tell him the truth.

When I get inside, there's a note from my mom on the fridge saying she and my dad and Nadia went out for dinner and a movie, which makes me feel relieved. This sounds so silly, but what if they're able to sense that something is different about me? I heard that after you lose your virginity, you look different.

I feel different. When I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the foyer mirror, I see it. Flushed cheeks, shiny eyes. I look like a girl in love.

My lip starts to quiver. I am a girl in love. And I'm afraid of what that means for us.

I run upstairs to my room, my phone in my hand. It suddenly buzzes with a text from Reeve.

Home safe and sound. You?

I'm ready to text him back, just like he asked. I flip on the light switch, and then I let out a scream.

My room is completely trashed. Clothes are everywhere. My down pillows have been slashed open and feathers float through the air. The belly of my stuffed rabbit has been slashed too, and his beany insides spill out onto the carpet. My perfume bottle is shattered on the vanity table; glass is everywhere. My dollhouse is smashed.

And there is Mary, sitting cross-legged on my floor in the middle of it all.

Oh my God.

I back away from her, my whole body trembling. Taking deep, gulping breaths of air, I manage to get out the words “Why did you do this?”

“Why? Because Reeve killed me. He killed me, Lillia. You're in love with a murderer.”

I reel backward. “Get out! Get out right now!”

“And go where? Reeve Tabatsky took everything from me.” She lifts her head and looks at me and says, “I hung myself that day, just like I told you. But I didn't survive. I'm dead. You can go to the cemetery and see my gravestone. Elizabeth Mary Donovan Zane.” And then she stumbles to her feet, walks through my bedroom wall, and walks back in.

I scream and scream and scream. I put my hands over my ears. “Stop! This isn't real. It isn't real.” I'm dreaming. This is just another nightmare. This isn't happening. I clench my
hands into the tightest fists, my fingernails piercing my palms.
Please wake up,
I tell myself.
Wake up, wake up.

When I open my eyes, Mary is standing right in front of me. “Touch me,” she says. “Think about it. You never have. You've never once touched me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head.

And then I feel something, some force pushing my arm up. I try to pull my arm back down, but I can't; the force is too strong. “Touch me,” she says again. This time it's an order, one I can't refuse.

Even though she looks as alive as the day I met her, I reach out to her, my fingers trembling—and my hand slips right through her like she's made of mist. I scream.

My phone rings. It's Reeve.

I try to hide my phone behind my back, but in an instant Mary's next to me, looking down at the screen. “We made a pact. We said we'd see it through till the end, but you didn't, did you? No, you broke your word. You said you'd break up with him.”

Dread seeps into my bones like a cold fog. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Mary stares at me for so long, I get chills all over. “So here's what you're going to do. You're going to tell him it's over. You're going to tell him you know what he did to me, that
you could never love a person who would do something like that. You're going to say what you should have said in the first place. And Reeve will know it's because of me.”

I shake my head. “No. No. I can't do that.”

“Then I'll kill him.”

“You wouldn't do that, Mary. I know you!”

“No, you don't. You don't know me at all. I could have done it at the pool today. Do you want to know why I didn't? It would've been too easy. Too merciful. I'd rather see him suffer.”

The phone is ringing again.

“It's up to you,” she says.

“I'll do it!” I cry out. “I'll tell him. I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't hurt him.” I try to grab her arms, but my fingers slip right through.

A strange smile lights up her face. “Then answer the phone.”

I let out a huge sob and swipe my finger across the screen. “Hello.”

“Hey. What's wrong? Why do you sound like that?”

Tears pour down my cheeks. “I can't be with you anymore.”