Where the Truth Lies (23 page)

What is there to say? Nothing. I’m leaving, and I don’t know when I’m coming back. I’m leaving because I have no other choice; I have to see my baby.

I find a piece of paper and a black felt-tipped pen. On my desk, I leave a note that says:

GOTTA GO

—EMILY

I know my parents will be horrified when they find out that I’m gone, but I don’t care. In fact, there’s a part of me that feels satisfied they’ll be so upset. They’ve lied to me and hidden so much; they
deserve
to be upset.

I tiptoe out of the dark room, into Stephanie’s room again, down the rope ladder again, where the dark is waiting for me. I hurry off campus to the parking lot. Del is waiting in an old green pickup truck.

“Where did you get this?” I ask. God, I hope he didn’t steal it.

“I borrowed it,” he says, starting the truck, “from my sister.”

“Your sister?”

“That’s right. I went to find her. And then I came for you.”

He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

I nod, flinching a little bit at his touch. I realize I don’t feel much of anything for him. But I have to go.

“Del, it’s freezing in here. Turn on the heat.”

“I can’t. The heat doesn’t work.”

I stare at him. “How are we supposed to drive all the way to New Hampshire, in the middle of the winter, with no heat? We’ll freeze.”

“No, we won’t. I brought you something.” And he reaches behind my seat.

It’s the same red blanket we used to lie on together all the time. Carefully, Del unfolds it and spreads it out across my body. It smells like him. He pulls it all the way to my chin. “There,” he says. “Now you’ll be warm.”

I don’t say anything. I only nod.

“Okay, then. Ready?” He puts the truck into drive.

I take a deep breath, stare at the morning sunlight that’s beginning to illuminate campus. “Ready.”

And we pull out of the parking lot, down the road and onto the highway, heading north.

chapter twenty-two

It’s only a few hours to New Hampshire. For a while, I can’t think of anything to say, and the inside of the truck is almost silent, the only noises the whirring of the engine and the murmur of low talk radio, which neither of us is listening to.

Finally, I say, “So you found your sister. That’s great.”

He nods. “It sure is.”

“Where was she? How did you find her?”

He shrugs. “I’ve told you. You got a computer, that’s pretty much all you need to find someone nowadays.” He’s quiet for a minute. “That reminds me. Did you ever find that girl you were looking for? Madeline?”

“No,” I say, “we didn’t.” Renee and I agreed that we wouldn’t tell anyone else what we learned about Madeline; that includes Del.

He shakes his head. “It’s so strange. You girls talked about her all the time, but I’ve never seen her. I’ve never even seen any evidence that she’s real. It’s almost like she’s a figment of your imaginations.” He adds, “You know—like Columbo’s wife.”

I can’t help but smile, thinking of the first night I met him.

“I don’t know why you’re having such a hard time,” he continues. “It’s easy to track people down.”

“Maybe for a boy genius.”

“I’m serious,” he says. “There’s information everywhere, just waiting for people to take it.”

I hesitate. Then I say, “I know that you knew about me when you came here.”

He stares straight ahead. He doesn’t say anything, until finally, “Yeah. So what?”

“So that’s why you liked me, isn’t it? You knew all about the fire. You knew I lost my dad and didn’t even belong to my family the way I thought. You knew, and I didn’t, and you were supposed to love me and you never even told me. You knew that I had nightmares, and you knew what they were about, and you never told me any of it. Why not? Why would you keep that a secret from me when you knew I was suffering?”

“You weren’t ready. I didn’t want to hurt you.” He glances at me. “Trust me, Emily. I know how things like that can hurt.”

“How noble of you,” I say, sarcastic.

He tries to keep his tone casual. “So you found out you were in the fire?”

I nod.

“You were in a fire with your parents,” he repeats. “Right?”

“Del, you already know all of this. Yes.”

“And your father died. And you almost died.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why I have the nightmares, you know—fire and water. I was still in bed when a fireman saved me. There was fire and water everywhere. It all makes perfect sense.”

“Uh-huh,” Del says. “Did your mother tell you that?”

“Yes. Del, why are you being weird?”

“My sister,” he begins, obviously trying to change the subject, “she’s all grown up now. You should have seen the two of us together. I stayed with her for a while, while I looked for the baby. Mel has this boyfriend—guess what his name is?”

I roll my eyes. “What?”

“
Cola
. He’s this big silent black guy named
Cola
. Honest to God.”

“That’s weird.”

He shrugs. “Well, Mellie’s always been attracted to the odd ones. Comes with the territory, I guess.”

We fall into silence again.

“So,” I say, almost afraid to ask. “Tell me about our baby. Where is she in New Hampshire?”

“In this little town called Saltsburg.” He pauses. “I’ve got the address. Something Foster Street. That’s all I know.”

“I knew it was a girl,” I murmur.

“Is that so?” He swings into a highway rest stop. We’ve been driving for about forty minutes. The sun is all the way up. By now, my roommates will realize I’m gone. It’s only a matter of time before my parents put two and two together, and then they’ll be looking for us. I feel terrified, exhilarated, but most of all I feel like I have no choice but to go see my baby. I have to know that she’s all right.

We go into the rest stop to use the bathroom and get some breakfast. It’s one of those new buildings with a food court and souvenir shop and shiny bathrooms.

As I’m washing my hands, a middle-aged woman approaches me. She stands a few feet away, staring, and I start to get paranoid that she’s with the police. But they couldn’t have reported me missing already, could they?

“You look lost, sweetheart,” she says. “Can I help you?”

“Oh.” I smile. “I’m not lost. I know exactly where I’m going.”

She takes a step closer. “Do you? Do you really know, honey? What’s your name?”

“Emily,” I say, without thinking. I should walk away, but she’s got me cornered. She holds out a pamphlet. “Emily, my name is Mary. I’m from the Church of the Open Door, and I have a gift for recognizing people who are in trouble. I can see people who need guidance.”

“That’s okay—really,” I tell her, trying to edge around her body. “I’m not from around here. I couldn’t come to your church, anyway.”

As I’m rushing out of the bathroom, she
shouts
after me, “God is watching you! He can help you, Emily!”

When I jump back into the truck, I’m shaking. “Oh my God,” I tell Del, “that was so bizarre.”

“What?”

And I tell him all about the woman in the bathroom—how she seemed to know that something was going on, that something was wrong with me. Del only laughs.

“There was a guy in the men’s bathroom, too! Here.” He hands me a muffin and coffee. “He was from the same church. I think they follow a script or something, because he said almost exactly the same thing to me.”

“He did?” I’m still shaking. I force myself to sip my coffee and take a bite of my muffin. “What did you say?”

Del grins. “I said, ‘You’re from the Church of the Open Door?’ And he goes, ‘Yes, Robert, I am.’ I told him my name was Robert, by the way.”

I nod.

“And so I go, ‘Well, sir, I’m from the Church of the Closed Door.’ And I crumple up the pamphlet and toss it in the trash and walk away.”

We’re on our way again. I gasp. “No, you didn’t!”

“I did. What business does he have, coming up to me in the bathroom? It’s crazy.” He glances at me. “I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about you.”

“Okay. What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Tell me what you’ve been up to since I left.”

I shrug. “Oh, you know. It’s been a totally normal senior year. Friends, homecoming, that kind of thing.” And then I add—just to hurt him, to let him know that I don’t belong to him—“I have a boyfriend, too.”

“Boyfriend,” he says, frowning. “Let me guess. Ethan Prince.”

I nod. “Until about six hours ago.”

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

I give him a brief synopsis of the circumstances surrounding our breakup. Considering what Del and I are doing, the fact that I’ve just run away, that we’re going to find our
child
, and how empty I feel when it comes to Del, the whole situation with Stephanie and Ethan—the watch, the cake, all the stupid rules—seems incredibly petty and mundane.

“So right now, your roommates are in your dad’s office, getting work details for eating cake.” He snorts. “That’s freaking hilarious.”

I pause. “Actually, they’re probably in his office, showing him the note I left. He’s probably calling the police right now.”

Del gives me a sideways glance. “You’re eighteen, Emily. The police can’t declare you missing for twenty-four hours.”

“Maybe not officially. But my dad knows them. Stonybrook is a tiny town. Trust me, if they’re not looking for us now, they will be soon.”

“We’ll be crossing the state line,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.” Then, in a tone that’s way too casual for the question, he says, “So tell me more about you and Ethan. Do you love him?”

I close my eyes for a second. Just for a moment, I imagine that, when I open them, I’ll be back at the dorm, waking up to find the whole previous night was only a dream.

But I’m not so lucky. “Yes,” I say, “I think so.”

“Oh, really? So you’re sleeping with him, then?”

I shake my head. “Del, just because you love a person doesn’t mean you have to sleep with them.” I add, “And no. I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because of you. Because of the baby.” I swallow. “It just felt wrong. But, Del, you and I, it doesn’t feel right. Not anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter if it feels right, it
is
right,” he insists. “Emily, don’t you understand? We’re the same. Look at what we’re doing. We’ve run away together, and we’re on our way to find the baby that we
made
together. From the first time I saw you, knowing what I knew, I was positive that we should be together. Now, whether you stay or go is up to you, but we’re going to go look at that baby together. We’re going to see her. And then you’ll realize.”

“Realize what?” I ask.

“You’ll realize how things should be. Some things are meant to be.”

I shake my head. “Del, no. It’s over.”

“Ethan doesn’t care about you the way I do. Nobody will ever care about you the way I do. What do you think Ethan would do if he knew about your dad? You think he’d be head over heels for you? I guarantee, he’d be running for the closest debutante in a second.”

“This isn’t about Ethan. It’s about me. Besides, that’s not true. You don’t know him.”

“It isn’t true? He dumped you when he found out about the baby, didn’t he?”

“He was shocked. Who wouldn’t be? He felt betrayed, and rightly so. I’m not going to talk about this with you. You don’t have any right to tell me how to live my life.” It feels exhilarating to stand up to him. I should have done it a long time ago.

He shakes his head. “You just don’t want to see. You aren’t like them. You might look like them and know how to act like them—hell, so do I. But deep down we’re the same. You’ve gotta understand that, Emily.”

But I don’t. And I don’t think I ever will.

“Just drive,” I tell him.

“I think we need to talk,” he says.

“Oh yeah? About what?”

“We’re going to make more than one stop. We’ll drive up to New Hampshire, and then we’ll drive to Rhode Island. There’s someone there I want you to meet.”

“God,” I murmur, rolling my eyes.

He grins. “Nope. Not God.”

In the short time we’ve been in the truck together, I’ve become almost homesick for my old life. I don’t care anymore if my dad isn’t technically my dad; my parents just did what they thought was best, didn’t they? I figure we’re stopping to see Melody in Rhode Island—who else could it be?—and I don’t want to. I want to see my baby and make sure she’s all right. Then I want to go home. I want to tell everything to Stephanie and Ethan—to get rid of all the secrets and have everything out in the open.

I want to see our baby. There’s a part of me that feels like I have to see her. But after today, I think, I never want to see Del Sugar again. He’s like poison, like a cancer that I can feel growing inside me. I may never be able to get rid of the memories we have—and I’m not sure that I want to—yet I know that, if I stay with him, nothing good will come of it. But as I look at him, so focused as he drives, his fingers probably numb around the steering wheel, his breath visible in the cold air inside the truck, I don’t get the feeling that he has any plans to calmly walk away.