The Last Boy and Girl in the World (40 page)

It was another lie. I remembered everything. The fight with Morgan, and Jesse, and then finding out that my parents were separating.

I needed my best friend.

I brought my phone into the shower with me. It rang as I was mid-shampoo. I squinted away the soap and checked the screen. I didn't recognize the number, it wasn't one programmed into my contacts.

Principal Bundy.

I felt my entire body squeeze in on itself. I hit Ignore and hoped she wouldn't leave me a voice mail. But of course she did.

“Keeley. It's Teresa Bundy. Look. I don't care about the pictures you sent, I don't care about the house. But please call me back and let me know if you saw Freckles and if he looked”—her voice broke—“okay. Please, Keeley.”

I was shaking. I set the phone down.

I got dressed and went downstairs. Mom had not come home, and Dad was on the couch, watching television. I sat quietly down next to him.

Mayor Aversano was on the steps of City Hall, flanked by Sheriff Hamrick and other officials. “I wish I had better news, but we're facing another storm,” said Aversano. “And because of Aberdeen's already compromised state, we are anticipating very unsafe conditions, even more so than the storm earlier this month. We need to get as many people out as possible, and as quickly as possible.”

I glanced at Dad.

Aversano continued. “Police and fire crews will be driving through neighborhoods today, directing people to leave, offering assistance. The adjusters will continue to be available to meet with residents, but at a new location outside of Aberdeen, which will be announced shortly. Many homes are likely to suffer serious damage from flooding. I would suggest leaving with all you can, under the assumption that there won't be much to come back to on Tuesday.”

Dad shut off the TV. “Was this what Charlie and his friend came over to tell you last night?” I asked.

“Yes. And also that they were going to accept the offers being made to them.”

“I bet Mom's at Mrs. Dorsey's. You should go get her, Dad.” I suddenly wanted him to do all the things Mom had been saying. To channel his energy into taking care of us.

“I'm sure she'll be home soon. Anyway, I've got people on the way over. We need to discuss our next move.”

•  •  •

Dad called an emergency meeting at our house. Where the first meeting had packed our living room, there were now plenty of seats. Maybe half of the people Dad had gotten to sign his petition to stay in Aberdeen showed up.

I hoped Dad would finally share his plan. The thing that would save us, the thing he'd been hinting at to Mom the night before.

“I can't sugarcoat it,” Dad began. “This new evacuation puts us all in a tough spot. But not an impossible one.”

Uneasy murmurs went through the room.

A voice said, “If we don't go in the next twenty-four hours, we'll be stuck here. I heard they're permanently closing the roads into town for any vehicles that aren't part of the construction efforts after this evacuation. Once someone leaves, you won't be able to come back in.”

“You know what'll be next? The Internet.”

“And the power. They'll shut that off.”

Dad raised his hands to try and quiet the room. “Here's what I'm proposing. We're all going to pool our resources. I'm sure everyone's got a stocked pantry, and we'll keep each other fed. My house is on the highest ground. We can take cover here and—”

“What about my job? How am I going to get to work?”

“There will be ways. Get you through the woods and have someone pick you up on the other side . . .”

People looked around the room skeptically. One man actually said, “You're not making sense, Jim.”

Bess raised her hand. “Jim, I don't know what you've heard, but a few of my neighbors told me what they got in settlements. They might not be speaking truthfully, but it sounded generous. Maybe we should cut our losses.”

I'd never seen Dad looked so desperate. “But you all signed my petition. You promised me you wouldn't make a deal.”

Bess stood up and placed a hand on Dad's shoulder. “We're sad to see Aberdeen go, but our lives will go on. They have to.”

The others nodded like they agreed. All except for my dad.

I sat there with my arms folded, thinking,
How is this going to last?
even though I knew the answer. It wouldn't. It was already over.

•  •  •

I still hadn't heard anything from Morgan and I was getting nervous. She didn't even respond to a series of sad frowny-face pictures I'd taken of myself.

I was starting to panic. I had screwed up so monumentally last night. Everything I had tried to use to make things better—everything from Jesse to those awful texts I'd sent to Bundy—could have cost me her friendship. If I lost Morgan, I would be truly devastated.

Mom arrived home later that afternoon. I wanted to ask about Morgan, when she came home this morning, had she said anything about me, but I didn't have the chance.

“Where's your father?”

It hurt to say, “He's sleeping.” I left out what he'd said to me when he walked up the stairs after everyone had left our house. Which was “Let Sheriff Hamrick drag me out.”

She nodded, like things were affirmed. She handed me a box. I figured she was going to ask me to start packing, but by the way she looked when she lifted it, I knew there was already stuff inside.

I opened the flap.

It was my dress from Spring Formal. Or it used to be. Now it was a rag, a wrinkled mess, because I'd balled it up after the dance, shoved it under Morgan's bed, and forgotten about it.

“Keeley.”

“Mom, let me explain. I—”

“I've never owned something so nice.” She held the dress up to the light. “I imagined you'd wear this in college sometime. Maybe to a special party. Or an interview. Or a conference.”

She got up and went to the kitchen. I followed her.

“Mom, please.”

She leaned forward at the sink, rubbing her temples. “Keeley, I don't know how else to say this except to just come out with it.” She stood up straight and turned to face me. “I put a deposit down on an apartment this morning. It's between here and Baird. I'm packing up my stuff today and I want you to do the same.”

“But what about Dad?”

“I can't worry about him anymore.”

“How could you say that? He's been trying so hard for us.” I knew that in fighting for Dad, I was fighting for myself, too.

“Keeley, I'm the one who's been here, day after day, for the last two years, trying hard for us. Not him.”

“So what? He can't make up for it now?”

I desperately, desperately wanted her to say yes. But she said, “I'm going to stay at Annie's tonight. We're having a little good-bye sleepover and they could use the help packing up.”

“They're leaving too. Where?”

“Honey. You should talk to Morgan.”

I was trying to. But Morgan wouldn't take my calls.

I took my box upstairs. Inside it was every last possession I'd left at Morgan's house. A pair of Christmas pajamas I hadn't seen in months. My copy of
Mockingjay
, which I'd loaned her but she'd avoided reading because I said it was a letdown. She was returning everything that made us friends.

I kicked the box into my closet.

If Morgan wouldn't take my calls, I'd have to do something else to get her attention. Something big, before it was too late.

Sunday, May 29

EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM ALERT
: As of 1:00 PM, Governor Ward has issued an evacuation order for Aberdeen County. All residents are being asked to relocate in advance of the coming storm system. Please stay tuned for additional information.

I knew there was only one person who could help me get back into Morgan's good graces. Jesse Ford. So I borrowed Dad's pickup truck and drove over.

There was a moving van outside his house. I tried to make sense of the timeline. We'd just gotten the evacuation order. So why was Jesse already packed?

And then it all made sense. His caginess about his mom signing our petition. The way he'd avoided me at Secret Prom.

Jesse was coming through the front door with a box in his hand. He looked embarrassed. Julia came running up to me, squeezing me at the legs.

“You were just going to leave.” My chest was closing in on itself.

“Ahh, Keeley. I was going to tell you last night. When the time was right.”

He might have believed that, but I knew better. The way he was pushing me off all night, the way he didn't want to be close to me. It was because he didn't want to tell me the truth. He was leaving.

He tried to hug me but I scooted out from under his arms. “I would not have left without telling you. I would not.”

I wiped my eyes. “Your mom was never considering supporting us, was she?”

He sighed and tipped his head back. “I mean, I told her about it. But my mom has a crap job at Walmart. We live in a trailer. And Julia's dad is a piece of shit who's always lurking around. This is going to be good for us.”

These things were true. I knew they were. “Do you know where you're going?”

“About an hour away. Sharpsburgh. Not far.” He finally looked at me. “I hope we can still be friends.”

Maybe Jesse was easy for me to forgive because we were so alike. And I did know, deep down, that he was a good guy. But Morgan had been right. Jesse and I weren't good for each other. I was as broken as he was. We were never fully honest with each other, not completely. And so the loss of him was strangely muted. Especially when stacked up against what was happening with me and Morgan.

“I hope so too. Because as of this moment, you're basically the only one I have.”

“Wait. Why? Did something happen between you and Morgan?”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “I need your help. I need to come up with something big to get Morgan to forgive me. I really, really screwed up bad with her last night.” I felt my lip tremble. “Actually, no. That's not even true. I've had a lot of little screwups, little breaks. I tried to ignore them, hoping they'd go away. And now everything is in pieces.”

Jesse tried hugging me again and this time I let him. “Don't worry, Keeley. We can fix this. Everything can be fixed.” I nodded, rubbing tears all over his shirt, because it had to be true. “Of course I'll help you. What's the plan? What are you thinking?”

“I need to prove to her how much she means to me. That what we have is worth saving.”

“Hmm. Try this. If you close your eyes and think of the best time in your friendship, when everything was as perfect as can be, what do you think of?”

And that's when it hit me.

•  •  •

I drove us to Viola's.

The whole time, he was looking at me.

“What?”

“You caught me off-guard before, Keeley. Showing up at my house like that. I . . . I just want to make sure you know that I'm honestly going to miss you.” He sounded genuine. And genuinely surprised.

I couldn't believe I was almost going to have sex with him. “Never mind that now, okay?”

I parked and ran for the door. It was padlocked closed, an
X
already spray-painted on the door.

I cupped my hands to the glass and peered inside. There wasn't much to see. Bare shelves, the empty cash register stands. I ran down the sidewalk, looked inside another window. But near the booth where Mr. Viola used to watch over things, just as it had always been, was the sticker machine.

I started to kick at the glass door.

Jesse came up behind me, scooped me around the waist, and pulled me away. “Whoa, whoa. Wait a second. What are you up to?”

I bit my lip. “I need that sticker machine.”

He laughed, until he realized I wasn't joking. And then he said, “Okay.”

In that moment, I was grateful not to be with Levi. I would have had to explain things, I would have had to corrupt him to do it for me. I didn't have to betray him on this.

Jesse ran around the building, casing the area. I was hoping some side door would be unlocked. But when he came back, he had a brick in his hands.

“Step back.”

To his credit, Jesse never asked me to record it. It would have made a crazy video for sure. Us smashing the glass, dragging that sticker machine out, loading it in the back of the truck. When I told Jesse I needed him, he simply came through. It made me feel better about everything. I loved him for a reason. And hopefully, I'd be able to come through for Morgan, and she'd remember the same thing about me.

•  •  •

We took the machine to Jesse's house. He tried for nearly an hour to pop it open. “How is this stupid thing harder to get into than a vending machine?”

I used all the quarters from the console in my dad's truck. And when that ran out, Jesse broke open a glass jar where he'd been saving change for years. We did it assembly line style. Jesse loaded the two quarters, I pushed in the metal latch, and Julia pulled out the white cardboard sleeve and checked to see if we'd hit double unicorn jackpot.