Ashes to Ashes (3 page)

I can totally see Reeve picking on her, that bastard.

Lillia looks at the picture too. “Maybe this means she'll come back here eventually. Her family will want to get their things, right?”

“Maybe,” I say. But I don't believe it. Looking around the rest of the room, I can see that most of it's trashed.

Lil and I make our way upstairs. Eddie's already there, pointing his flashlight up another set of stairs, probably leading to the attic.

We come to a bedroom and linger in the doorway. Unmade bed, closet doors wide open, clothes tossed about. Strangest of all, the entire floor is covered with hundreds of books open to random pages.

“This has to be her aunt's room,” Lillia whispers.

Suddenly there's a hand on my arm. “The house is empty,” Eddie says, pulling me back toward the staircase. “We're getting out of here. Move it!”

“Wait, Kat! Come look at this!”

I shake Eddie off and follow the sound of Lillia's voice into another bedroom.

It's the only one that's been completely emptied out. There's a dresser, a stripped bed, an empty bookshelf, and a bare closet. I walk to the window and look down at the spot where Lillia and I threw rocks to get Mary's attention when we came to visit her once in the middle of the night. That was the first time she told us about Reeve and what he'd done to her.

“She must have packed up her things.” Lillia shakes her head. She can't believe it either. “I guess she really did leave without saying good-bye.”

*  *  *

On our way out, Eddie pulls the back door shut and makes sure it's locked. Then he drives off. Lillia and I get back into her car. We should leave too, but we don't. Not right away.

“The last time I saw Mary, she was happy,” I say. “Singing and dancing about you shutting Reeve down that night we both slept over. You know, she never showed up at Ren's party on New Year's. Maybe by that time she'd already peaced out. She got what she came for; she left on a high note.”

“Maybe . . .” With a sigh Lillia turns on her car and heads to my house.

“Or, you know what? Things have been so crazy with Rennie's death. Maybe Mary came to say good-bye when we
were both at the funeral.” I fiddle with my seat belt. “Or it could be that something happened with her aunt. Like a family intervention and she didn't have time to come find us. Whatever it is, I bet she'll call us soon.”

I can come up with a million excuses. The problem is that I don't buy a single one.

F
ROM THE PEAK OF THE
lighthouse roof, Jar Island looks small, like a play town with play people. That's where I'm perched, a seagull waiting out a storm. I'm as close to the sky as I've ever been, and everything is tiny. A man walking his poodle, a car driving up Main Street, a child crying for his mother. I'm too far away to care. What does it matter? What does any of it matter?

Before, I would have been afraid to be up so high. Now I'm not afraid. I'm not even sad. I'm nothing.

It's funny how my whole life, I never wanted to leave Jar Island, and now in death I can't. I remember when I first came back here, waking up on the ferry once it had reached Jar Island.
Or had I ever left? There was that time, after the first few days of school, when I'd had it with Reeve. I wanted to be back with my mom and dad. I packed up my suitcase and came down to the docks, ready to leave but unable to go. I didn't know why then, but now I do.

For some terrible reason I'm trapped here. I've been trapped here, maybe since the day I killed myself.

What I want to know is why. Why am I still here? Rennie got to leave. Is she in heaven? Or did she go straight to hell? Hopefully my dad is in heaven. He was a good dad. He deserves to be there. I wish I were with him.

It starts to snow. I'm not wearing a coat. I've got no socks, no shoes. Just me in a simple white dress. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel the cold wind whipping around me, I can almost feel the chill of the winter sea spray. Almost.

All those months of pretending, playacting like I was alive, like I was somebody. Only I didn't know it was pretend. I thought it was real. It felt real.

My friendship with Lillia and Kat, that was real. In their eyes I was alive. I never had friends like them before. It was the only time in my whole life when I felt a part of something.

They made me real. For a little while anyway.

If I let go of them, maybe then I can finally move on. To heaven, to hell, to wherever. So long as it's not Jar Island.

S
ATURDAY NIGHT THERE'S A CANDLELIGHT
vigil for Rennie in the courtyard outside the school. It's freezing, and the wind is blowing so hard people's candles keep going out, so they cut it short. Kat comes, but she leaves early.

After, Paige goes around telling everybody to come over to her place, that she cleaned out the gallery and found the leftover liquor and beer from Rennie's party. She says she wants to get rid of it. She says, “We can cry and drink and tell Rennie stories. Everyone can just camp out afterward and sleep there.”

I've already slept over twice this week because Paige doesn't
like to be alone on the nights when her boyfriend has to get back to his restaurant on the mainland. She makes me stay up all night with her, and it's a roller-coaster ride of her laughing one minute and then sobbing the next. But that's not the hard part. The hard part is sleeping in Ren's bed, because when I wake up, I still expect to see her there next to me.

When I get to the apartment, everyone's already there. Ash is sitting in Derek's lap in the armchair; PJ is lying on the floor with his hat over his face; a few girls from the squad are in the kitchen. Alex sits on the radiator flipping through a photo album. Reeve is next to Paige on the couch. She has a big shoe box in her lap, and she's passing around trinkets she's kept, like the tiny white dress Rennie was christened in. I can tell she's already drunk. Reeve barely looks at the stuff, just quick cursory glances. I go to the kitchen and fix Paige a turkey sandwich, because I'm sure she hasn't had anything to eat. From the couch I feel Reeve's eyes on me, but when I look up, he's already looking away.

I put the sandwich on a plate and bring it to Paige. “Try to eat a little.”

Paige kisses me on the cheek. Her breath smells like whiskey and something sour. “You're my angel,” she says, setting the plate down on the coffee table. “I planned on getting some snacks and things for you kids today, but when I went to the store, I felt everybody's judging eyes on me, so I left.”

Frowning, Alex asks, “What do you mean?”

“All these Jar Island parents are convinced that I'm a terrible mother,” she spits out. “They think Rennie got into that accident because she was drinking and driving. I have the police report. That had nothing to do with it. It was some kind of malfunction with the Jeep.”

“My father said you could sue the car company,” Ashlin says. “You definitely have a case.”

Paige barely notices, and says, “Plus, you know Ren could hold her liquor. She's her father's daughter. But people would rather make up stories than believe the truth. They want to make me out to be an unfit parent. These people never liked me. They never accepted me.”

I swallow and look at my lap. My mom has made a few comments just like that. Wanting to know if Paige regularly got us alcohol. I told her no, of course not. And it wasn't a lie. Rennie had her own connections. But Paige didn't exactly discourage us either. Still, she always made sure we were being safe, that no one would drive if they'd been drinking.

Paige glances at Alex. “Sweetie, I'm not trying to be a bitch, but your mother is a perfect example. I know she's let you kids drink at your house. But it happens at my gallery and suddenly I'm a lowlife?”

“I'm so sorry,” Alex mumbles, his face red.

“No, no, no, no, sweetie. Please. It's fine. You kids know the truth, and that's all I care about. So let's have a good time tonight, okay? For Rennie.” She pats the seat next to her. “Reevie, scoot over for Lil,” Paige commands.

Reeve moves as far away as he can, and I sit down. “Take a look at this,” Paige says, and she hands me a picture of Reeve and Rennie from kindergarten. They are both dressed up because it's the first day of school. Her curly hair is in pigtails, and he has on a plaid button-down shirt and is missing a front tooth. I can't help but smile.

“It's so cute,” I say. I pass it to him, careful not to let my fingers touch his.

Reeve stares at the photo, swallows hard, and then hands it back to Paige. “Keep it,” she says. Then, taking a sip of her drink, she continues, “You know, I always thought you two would get married one day.”

He freezes. I see the pain in his face, the guilt. I see everything he's trying to hide.

Ash pipes up, “Rennie used to say that if you guys got married, she wanted to get a picture with you and all your brothers throwing her into the ocean in her wedding dress.”

Paige chokes back a sob, and Reeve shoots Ash a look.

Sitting next to him on the couch, I'm too aware of everything. Every time he shifts his weight, or speaks, my heart beats
double and it's hard to breathe, or concentrate. When Ash suggests we watch an old cheering video we made, I jump up to go find it on Rennie's laptop, and it's a relief not to be in the same room as him.

I sit at Rennie's desk and open up her computer. There's a memory stick already in the USB port. I open it and scroll for her videos, and then I see the file called “Homecoming,” and my whole body goes hot. I click on it, and there they are—magnified pictures of me, drugging Reeve's drink. Quickly I drag the whole file over to the trash, which I then empty.

“Did you find it, Lil?” Ash calls out from the other room.

“Not yet,” I say back, trying to make my voice sound normal and not guilty and disgusted with myself.

“Hurrrrrry!”

I do a search on her computer for “Homecoming,” in case she has it saved there, too, but there's nothing, and my heart rate finally starts to slow down.

I go back to the living room. “I can't find it,” I say.

Ash makes a sad face. Wistfully she says, “I guess we'll never see it again.”

Then it's quiet. Paige goes into her room to lie down, and the rest of us just sit around in awkward, sad silence.

“Hey. Why don't we play a drinking game,” Alex finally says. “It can be called . . . ‘Remember When.' And everybody
has to tell a memory of Rennie, and if you remember it, then you drink. Or . . . if you don't remember it, you drink.”

“That's a great idea,” I say, standing up. I get cups for everyone, and Ash grabs a bottle of cinnamon-flavored vodka from the cardboard box on the kitchen table.

Alex goes first. He raises his cup and says, “Remember when Rennie tried to convince me to get my eyebrows waxed?” He starts laughing. We all do.

“Didn't she make you an appointment somewhere?” Ash says, snorting with laughter.

“Yup. She totally did. At a nail salon, I think.” Alex shakes his head. “Thank God I figured out she was joking before it was too late.”

We raise our cups and swallow, and then I refill everyone's glasses.

“Remember when Rennie broke into the teachers' lounge and stole Mrs. Penfeld's precious coffee mug? The one with the cat in the argyle sweater?” Ash says. I raise my glass and sip, along with almost everybody else.

Not PJ, though. His mouth drops open. “She did not.”

“Oh, yes she did,” Ash says. “Don't you remember her bringing it to parties sometimes?”

PJ shakes his head. “Dude. Holtz was fearless.”

I'm smiling, but all the while my mind is racing, because it
will be my turn soon, and I can't think of anything. I have so many stories about Rennie, it feels like my whole life on Jar Island has been about Rennie, and yet I can't think of even one thing. I'm so panicky, I could cry.

Alex nudges his chin toward Reeve. “You're up.”

Reeve shrugs his shoulders. “Pass.”

Ash tries to sweet-talk him into sharing something, but he won't. She's persistent, but it only makes Reeve shut down even more. The muscles in his shoulders are bunched up, and he's two seconds from getting up and walking out of here, I know it. I throw Ash a warning look so she'll stop.

“PJ, you go,” I say, and PJ launches into a story about Rennie sneaking into the boys' bathroom, and everyone starts to laugh, and the tension of the moment before fades away. Our eyes meet, and I can tell Reeve is grateful. Right before it's my turn, I get up and go to the bathroom, and I don't come out until I'm sure they've moved on to the next person.

*  *  *

After midnight some people have left and some are passed out in the living room and in Rennie's bedroom, I guess because everybody started drinking so early. I am on Paige's bed with Paige and Ash. They are both asleep, but I'm just lying here. I finally get up and open the bedroom door.

In the living room the TV is on and Reeve is cleaning, tying
up a big recycling bag. I watch him for a few seconds, and I suddenly feel such longing for him in my heart, I ache. I'm about to say something when Alex comes out of the kitchen. I step back into Paige's room before they notice me.

I hear Alex say, “How are you holding up?”

I can hear the surprise in Reeve's voice when he says, “I'm all right.”

“Come on, man. I know how much you cared about her.” Alex pauses. “I'm still pissed at you for going after Lillia—”

“That's over.”

It hurts to hear him say it, but it's time.

Then Alex says, “If you ever want to talk—I'm here for you.”

There's this long beat, and I'm holding my breath, hoping. Hoping that Reeve will let him in. Alex has always known how to talk to Reeve. His opinion is the only one Reeve has ever really cared about besides Rennie's.