Then You Were Gone (18 page)

“Hi.” She sounded groggy; dreamy.

“You asleep?”

“Sort of.”

“Well can you talk?”

A beat. I heard muffled whispering, laughing. Then: “I’ll call you back.”

“Eves?”

“What?”

“Is someone there?”

“I’ll call you later.”
Click.

I chucked my cell onto the floor and the battery popped out. “Crap.” I got out of bed, forced everything back in its place, jimmied the window open, and dialed Dad.

He picked up. “Snow.”

“I know.” I hammered the window open wider and stuck my head outside.

“How’s my girl?”

“Freezing.” I was inside now. Creeping back into bed. “How’s home?”

“We miss you.” We: Dad. Chicken, the dog.

“Mom’s a real mess, you know.”

“Honey.”

“Have you broken things off with slutty Caroline?”

“Al.”

“Because I’m ready for things to go back how they were.”

“Honey, it’s not that easy.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said. Then, “Gotta go.” I flipped my phone shut and buried myself under piles of covers. I curled my knees to my chest, inspecting a scab on my big toe.

I met Adina the following Monday.

Meadow Marsh High was triple the size of my old school. Stained glass. Brick. Science wing. Student center.

I ate lunch alone at an empty table near the restrooms. French fries and ranch. My fave. I crammed five skinny fries into my mouth and looked up. Hovering overhead? Docksider Fred. With a girl.

“Can we sit?”

The girl wore a tattered black dress with four teensy rosebuds embroidered at the collar. Over that she had on a men’s tweed coat. She was frail and blond and made me feel oversize and mannish.

“Is this your girlfriend?” I asked.

They sat side by side and close. The girl pulled five clementines out of her book bag, frowning. “His sister.”

“Adina,” said Fred, pulling a wad of green gum from his mouth. “Where’s your friend?”

“Who?”

“That girl from the party.”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “Charlotte Kincaid. Yeah, I dunno.”

“Orange?” offered Adina, digging her thumbnail into a clementine rind.

“No. Thanks though.”

Fred pulled a to-go bowl of Cheerios from his blazer pocket. “Awesome table.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Yes,” he said, pulling the paper lid off his cereal bowl. “Seriously—next time, find a spot
away
from the bathrooms.” He smiled. His freckled face made me want to bake a batch of brownies. Down a gallon of milk.

“Hey, what’s your name?” The girl asked.

I redirected my gaze. “Alex.”

“Alex.” She chewed. “You’re from . . . ?”

“Katonah.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded like she knew all about it. “So, Katonah, why are you here?”

“Ah—” I wasn’t sure what to say.
My dad’s a raging slut
? “My parents—Well, my dad—” I stopped, starting again: “My mom’s from here,” I finished.

“Fascinating,” Adina deadpanned, angling away from me. “Eat faster,” she said to Fred.

I winced, watching her nibble at an orange slice. Fred eyed me apologetically. “You settling in okay?”

I shrugged.

“If you need someone to show you around . . .”

Adina laughed, then slapped a hand over her mouth.

“What? What’s so funny?” said Fred.

“No, it’s just—” Who knew a giggle could sound so patronizing? “No, nothing. You’re cute.” She made her eyes into small slits.

“Well, if you’re feeling lost,” Fred said, ignoring her, ripping a piece of loose-leaf from his binder and scribbling something down. “My number.” He smiled, sliding the paper forward.

“Thanks,” I said cautiously, watching Adina. She watched me back. “Hey,” I said softly. “Who’s older?”

Fred took one last bite of cereal and pushed his bowl forward. “We’re twins.”

“Oh.” They looked only vaguely alike. Both blond. Both thin. I wondered briefly what Evie might think of Adina. She’d love her pointy collarbone but would call her names behind her back.
Skeletor. Bobblehead
.

“Hey, Katonah.”

“Yeah?”

“Here.” She tossed a clementine rind across the table. It landed lightly in my lap.

“What’s this for?” I picked it up, inspecting it.

“I just felt like giving you something.”

“I’m touched?”

“You should be. Those things are precious. You think oranges grow on trees?”

“Mommy, it’s three. Have you been downstairs yet?”

The room was a dull black. I pushed back the curtains and cracked the window halfway.

“How was school?”

“Fine.”

“Meet anyone nice?”

I sat down on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know yet.” I shut one eye against the light and watched Mom pull her hair into a tight knot. She used to be pretty. Now she looked worn and pale.

“Did Charlotte show you around?” My mother knew Charlotte Kincaid. She was the daughter of Deirdre Kincaid, Mommy’s oldest friend.

“Sort of.”

“Nice girl, right?”

I shrugged.

I could’ve stayed in Katonah. I
would’ve
stayed, had I thought my mother could survive the additional blow of me choosing Dad over her. “Come downstairs? I’ll make you a snack.”

She smiled. “Have you talked to Dad?”

I nodded. “I’m home with him this weekend.”

Her face fell. She loved Dad, but Dad loved Caroline. I pushed back her covers and tried tugging her out of bed.

“No honey, not yet.” She wasn’t always this way. So screwy. Dad broke her. “Gimme a minute, okay?”

I let go and her hand hit the bed with a bounce.

ALSO BY

LAUREN STRASNICK

Nothing Like You

Her and Me and You

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SIMON PULSE

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

First Simon Pulse hardcover edition January 2013

Copyright © 2013 by Lauren Strasnick

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. SIMON PULSE and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at
www.simonspeakers.com
.

Designed by Hilary Zarycky

The text of this book was set in New Caledonia.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Strasnick, Lauren.

Then you were gone / Lauren Strasnick.—1st Simon Pulse hardcover ed.

p. cm.

Summary: Adrienne and Dakota’s long-term best friendship has been over for two years, but when Dakota goes missing, a presumed suicide, Adrienne is overwhelmed, leading to problems at school and with her boyfriend.

ISBN 978-1-4424-2715-0

[1. Missing persons—Fiction. 2. Conduct of life—Fiction.
3. Bestfriends—Fiction. 4. Friendship—Fiction. 5. High schools—Fiction.
6. Schools—Fiction. 7. Family life—California—Fiction. 8. California—Fiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.S89787The 2013

[Fic]—dc23

2011040175

ISBN 978-1-4424-2717-4 (eBook)