Luna (26 page)

“Hi.”

Before Luna or I could react — however we were supposed to react — Aly waltzed over to the PCs and picked up a joystick. “We have a game to finish,” she said. “I need to figure out how to get out of that fucking alley.” She flopped on the floor at Luna’s feet.

Luna widened her eyes at me. I shrugged. Was that hope surging through my veins? It was filling Luna, too. She seemed to grow taller; her skin less sallow, eyes more focused.

Aly gripped the joystick in her lap with both hands and let out a long breath. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to be okay with this.” She spoke to the empty space between us. “It’s hard. You know?”

Luna lowered herself slowly to the floor beside Aly. “I know,” she said quietly. “Take however long you need.”

Aly heaved a tremulous breath. “Could we finish this game, please?” She jammed her joystick into Luna’s middle and snared another one for herself. “It’s giving me nightmares.”

Luna switched to Play mode, then settled more comfortably on the rug. She smoothed her skirt over her bent legs. Aly said, “Start us when we’re nine. I want to play that birthday again.” She turned her head to look at Luna, for the first time, eye-toeye contact. “You can’t be serious about that outfit,” she said.

Luna’s back stiffened. “What. What’s wrong with it?”

“A sweater set? Please.” Aly refocused on the screen. She pressed a button and her clone’s scream split the air —
Aaah!
In its echo, Aly added, “I hope you’re not getting fashion advice from Regan.”

“Hey!” I cried.

Aly didn’t acknowledge, but I could sense her smile. My heart burst apart with song. I loved Aly. I loved her more than I ever had. I loved her like a sister.

We were sitting in the movie theater, Chris’s arm snaking across my shoulders, when the last conversation I’d had with Luna replayed in my mind. Aly was gone after having finally won a game of Aly Oops. I think Luna let her win. Luna was hunched on the floor, screwing together the casing on a mother board, and I asked if she’d help me pick out something to wear.

“I can’t, Re,” she’d answered. “I have to finish this. There isn’t much time left.”

What did she mean by that — there isn’t much time left? For who? Why?

“Where are you, Regan?” Chris tapped my shoulder.

“What?” I jerked to the moment.

“You really go away sometimes, you know that?” His voice was a whisper in my ear. The movie had begun. When had the movie begun? “Is anything wrong?” Chris asked. “You don’t really seem like you want to be here tonight.”

Perceptive. All that had happened today with Dad and Mom and Aly weighed on my mind. It preyed on me. I couldn’t get Luna out of my head, out from under my skin. I never would. She wasn’t as happy about Aly’s acceptance as I thought she’d be. I expected her to be dancing on the ceiling, singing Dana International. Instead she was moody, uncommunicative, distant.

“Regan?”

What? God. “I’m sorry,” I said to Chris, lowering my head. “It . . . it isn’t you. I do want to be here with you.”

The couple behind shushed us and Chris removed his arm from my shoulders. He stood, jammed our tub of popcorn in the crook of his arm, and took my hand. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t resist.

Out in the car, Chris said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Yes, more than anything in the world I wanted to talk about it. I wanted to tell him what was going on, reveal the truth about Liam. I wanted to get it out there, get it out of me, deal with it, see how he would deal.

My brain said, “Speak,” but my mouth wouldn’t work. I couldn’t do it. This secret had been with me so long, it was a part of me now. If I let it out, I’d be opening myself. To hurt, ridicule, loss.

Chris said, “I have an uncle who’s gay.”

“So?” I whirled on him. Liam’s not gay! I wanted to cry. I wish he was. It’d be easier, more acceptable. Better understood, at least.

“I’m just saying, I don’t have a problem with ... you know.”

He didn’t know. How could he know? I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t form the words.

This was too new to me. Trusting someone. I wasn’t ready. I was scared. If I told him the truth, I might lose him, and I’d only just found him.

Chris was watching me, waiting.

I wondered how long he’d wait. Letting out a long breath, I said the only words I could manage, “I ... can’t ... yet.”

“Okay,” he said quickly. “No problem. I’m cool.”

He was. He was so cool. If we sat here another minute, though, I wasn’t going to be. “Could we go?” I asked.

“Whatever you want, Regan.” He cranked up the car and drove me home.

As we pulled into the driveway next to the Spyder, Chris turned off the ignition and shifted to face me.

“I’m sorry,” I said before he could blast me. Before he could tell me how sorry he was he’d ever met me. How he decided I wasn’t worth the wait. “I’m sorry.” Why was I always apologizing? For me, for Luna, for everything wrong in the world.

The basement lights were out, which spooked me. Liam wouldn’t be in bed already. Chris reached over and took my hand. “It’s just family stuff,” I mumbled. “It’s not you.”

“Hey,” he said. “Family shit can wear you down.”

That was an understatement. I was suddenly angry. Here I was with this incredible guy who made me feel special and bought me dinner and took me to a movie and wanted to spend time with me and all I could think about was what my brother was doing, what he was thinking and feeling. How I shouldn’t have left him alone on his birthday, not tonight. Not the way he was acting. “There isn’t much time left,” he’d said.

“I’m a good listener.” Chris cocked his head and tried to engage my eyes. “You tell me your shit and I’ll tell you mine. My family’s so dysfunctional, I bet it beats yours any day.”

I snorted. “How big a bet can you make?”

His eyebrows arched. He wasn’t pressuring me, but I felt pressured. I wasn’t ready. “I have to go.” I had to get out — now.

Chris scrambled to open his door and catch up with me on my dash to the porch, to Liam. My eyes drifted to the sky in search of the moon, the stars. Nothing. No lights shone. An eternity of darkness. Chris touched my hand. If he tries to kiss me, I thought, I’ll burst into tears.

He didn’t. Only laced his fingers through mine and squeezed gently. “Call you tomorrow about next weekend?”

He still wanted to see me? He
is
a masochist, I thought. If I nodded, it was only because my head felt so heavy I couldn’t hold it up.

The first thing that struck me was the disassembly, the expansion of space. Objects had been moved, rearranged. Liam’s PCs were on, all four of them, blinking screensavers. Not skyscrapers this time. Numbers. A string of them, scrolling across the monitors. The coffee table where he usually kept his laptop had been cleared; in fact, the whole room looked like Supermom had swept through. Somebody else’s Supermom.

Liam — Luna — must’ve spent all evening cleaning. Cleaning. As in clearing out? Leaving this world?

I barged into his bedroom. He lay curled on the mattress, snoring. Still had on the skirt and sweater. The digital clock on his dresser glowed 9:02. I eased the door shut, breathing a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately Luna’s cleaning bug hadn’t extended to my room. It was a slum, as usual.

I dropped into a chasm. Deep and dark and jagged-edged. My body felt as if it’d been pushed off a cliff and hit every outcropping of rock on the way down. Bruised and beaten, so exhausted. I lay on my bed and closed my eyes.

Chapter 26

F
lash!

My eyelids flew open and I shielded my eyes from the blinding light.

“Wake up, Re.” A hand touched my shoulder. “I need you to do me a favor.”

I squinted at the blurry figure looming over me. Luna. “What time is it?”

She checked her watch. “Four-thirty.”

“In the morning?” I dragged myself to a sitting position. The bleak night seeped in through my window. No moonlight still. Only the harsh glare from my overhead globe.

“I need you to come with me.” Luna handed me a stack of neatly folded clothes.
My
clothes, apparently for me to put on.

She was dressed to a T. Suit jacket, matching skirt, heels.

I yawned. “The mall doesn’t open for a few hours yet,” I grumbled.

She pulled back my comforter. “Hurry. We should leave in ten minutes.”

She left me alone to dress. When I emerged from my room, she was waiting for me by the stairs. “We’re going to have to sneak out. Dad’s been up watching TV all night.”

“I know,” I said. We’d evil-eyed each other when I came in from my date. Shortest date in history. Dad and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms. He wasn’t actually watching TV, either. Just lying on the couch, arms folded, stiff as a corpse.

“He finally fell asleep,” Luna said. “I don’t want him to wake up and catch us.” She shouldered her purse. “Or stop us.”

“Where are we going?” I tiptoed behind her up the stairs. No creaking. She must’ve disengaged the sound effects.

We slipped past Dad, no problem. He was out cold, an empty beer on the rug by his hand.

Luna punched in the Spyder’s security code and we climbed in, easing the doors shut. At the roar of the engine we both cringed, but no lights came on. No doors flew open. Luna backed to the street.

I waited until we were on the Interstate before speaking. “Wherever we’re going, you’re bound to get noticed in that getup. Wow.”

She beamed. It was true. She looked gorgeous. Her suit was tailored, expensive, white wool, with a navy blue blouse and matching pumps. She had a new blonde wig, shoulder-length with bangs, which made her look totally glam. This must’ve been her birthday present to herself.

Her eyes reflected the streetlamps along the highway as she concentrated on the road. But the sparkle seemed to originate within.

Something else sparkled. “Hey, do you like them?” I indicated my ear. I’d forgotten about my birthday present to her.

She touched her right earlobe. “I love them.” She turned and smiled. “Thank you. They’re perfect.”

I’d chosen a pair of gold earrings, half moons. Opposing halves that formed a whole when pieced together.

Past the city limits, we picked up speed. Traffic was sparse this time of morning. Plus, it was Sunday. Wasn’t it? Last night seemed a lifetime ago. I wanted to talk to Luna about Mom and Dad, but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Or what there was to say. They’d been tested as parents and failed. Zero percent.

We flew by so fast I almost missed it. The sign. “We’re going to the airport?” My head swiveled all the way around to confirm.

Luna’s expression didn’t change.

My heart raced. It hammered against my chest.

We veered up the ramp for departing passengers and Luna located a parking space in the short-term lot. Opening her door, she swung out both legs and stood.

“What are we doing here?” I said, following her out my side.

She opened the trunk and reached in, extracting a bulging suitcase and a carry-on bag, then her laptop in a leather brief-case I’d never seen before. She handed me the carry-on and laptop.

My heart was breaking ribs. “Clue me in. What’s going on?”

Her high heels clicked on the pavement as she headed for the elevators.

“Luna —”

“Oh, shoot.” She spun in place. “I forgot my coat. Will you run back?” She handed me her keys. “The door code is 6940128. Can you remember it?”

No, I thought. I can’t think.

“Re?”

“Say it again.”

“6940128.”

Replaying the numbers in my head gave them a rhythm — 694, 0128. 694, 01, 28. The coat was in the back seat covering an envelope. On the front of the envelope was written, “Mom and Dad,” in Luna’s pink ink. My throat constricted. Next to the envelope was a box from Nordstrom’s and a card attached with my name on it.

I slammed the door shut. This was not happening.

She was standing at the ticket counter, to the side, being questioned by a security guard. Oh God. She was nodding her head at him, looking freaked. As I hurried toward her, the guard motioned another official over and talked to him a moment. They both turned away from Luna and sniggered into their chests. An arrow pierced my heart.

As I reached the counter, the first guard handed back Luna’s driver’s license and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t let you board.”

Luna snatched up her laptop and luggage and hustled toward me. “What a hassle,” she said under her breath. “I have to change back.”

She scanned the area, then took off down the corridor toward the restrooms. I jogged behind her, eventually snagging her suit jacket. “Would you please tell me what the hell you’re doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she said, barely looking at me. “Would you guard my stuff until I get back?”

She dumped her briefcase and carry-on at my feet, then ducked her head and disappeared in the women’s restroom with the suitcase. I decided to kill her when she returned. A ticketing agent approached and I said, “One of the toilets just overflowed in there.”

She made a face and scurried away.

A few minutes later Luna came out dressed in slacks and a blouse, without the bra, without the wig. She’d wiped the lip-stick clean, but the eye makeup remained. As she bent to retrieve her briefcase from the end of my limp arm, she said, “It took me forty-five minutes to get this eyeliner on straight and I’m not taking it off.”

She stormed back to the ticket counter and checked in. This time they let her through.

Rendezvousing with me again, she eyed her coat that I was dragging on the floor and removed it from my hand, brushing it off. She stuck her boarding pass in the pocket of her briefcase and checked her watch. “There’s still an hour before my flight. Do you want to get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“No.” I seethed. “I want you to tell me what you think you’re doing.”

Surveying the vicinity over my head, she replied, “I’m going to Seattle. Teri Lynn has an extra room where I can stay until I get settled. She’s going to speak to her therapist on Monday to see if he can take me right away.”

“For what?” I fairly screeched.