A Life, Forward: A Rowan Slone Novel Read online

  There was no point saying that I didn’t think I would love it as much as he thought I would. I wasn’t a crowd-loving type of girl and the university was swarming with students, nearly thirty thousand. I also didn’t say that my dad was back in town, that Trina was acting weird again, or that I felt more like an alien everyday living in his home without him actually being there. So many things simply went unsaid.

  Instead, I muttered, “I’m sure I would love it.” I leaned in and kissed his neck. He didn’t say another word about where I would go to college. Or anything else for that matter.

  THAT NIGHT when Mike came into my room, I didn’t bother to set the alarm on my phone. It was foolish. Irresponsible. Disrespectful. But knowing he was leaving early in the morning made me set my phone on the nightstand and intentionally not think of the consequences.

  I slept in the crook of Mike’s arm, snuggled into his neck. His scent filled my nose each time I inhaled. His chest rose and fell under the warmth of my hand. His leg was heavy as it laid over mine, but I didn’t pull away, even when it made my foot go numb.

  I stayed awake far after his gentle snores began, listening to his breathing, feeling his skin beneath my fingers, relishing the nearness of him. At one point I lifted my hand and held it up for the dim nightlight to catch the gold of the ring. It was so beautiful. I could have never imagined that someone would give me something so beautiful. But it also made me sad, almost like it was a consolation prize. I put my arm back under the covers.

  He was leaving, and he’d help me feel better by giving me jewelry. What he didn’t know, or maybe he did, was that I would trade almost anything to be near him and not have him leave me again. But that hope was futile. Out in the hallway were his bags, packed and ready for a very early departure. He would leave before I even needed to get up for school. And his parents would leave with him. And I’d be all alone in a house that wasn’t my home.

  I could go, too. But for reasons I didn’t completely understand, I wouldn’t. When I clutched his arm, he moaned and pulled away. I laid awake for hours thinking.

  Where did I belong?

  Was there a place in this world for me?

  The thought had me yanking up my shirtsleeve. I stared at the scars, the dozen angry slashes, and the A for Aidan that I’d carved into my arm.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four.

  Five.

  And on. And on. And on.

  I forced myself to count each one. And with each number I forced myself to remember what it was like where I’d come from, and to appreciate where I was now. If I didn’t fit in here with the Andersons, I didn’t fit in back home either.

  A picture of that run-down house popped into my head with its dry, brittle grass and broken shutters; my obese, unkempt mother. I saw my sister, with evil behind those blue eyes, accusing Mike of rape. Dad’s fist. Gran’s smile that hid the truth all those years.

  And then I saw blood. Not dripping blood, but bubbles of blood—spots like those that peppered my skin after I cut. Blood droplets everywhere.

  A cool chill like the embrace of a ghost washed over my skin. Scout’s sweet purr was the only thing that held me tied to the present. I swallowed against the lump in my throat and scooped her up. Sadness was creeping toward me, threatening to surround me and consume me like poison. I had to keep it away. If I allowed it to enter, here in this house, even a slither of it, I would certainly be devoured. I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to deny it. I’d felt too many glimpses of it already.

  Where did I belong?

  I stroked Scout’s head long into the night, struggling, and failing, to find an answer to that question.

  SOMETIME TOWARD dawn, when the world was still cast in black, Mike turned over and wrapped his arms around me. I had finally fallen asleep and his touch felt like a dream. But it was a perfect dream and even as my mind remained foggy, my body was awake.

  Later, I tumbled back to sleep, snuggled safely in Mike’s arms with a smile spread across my face and his heat warming my heart.

  Sunlight poured through the closed curtains, streaming in soft, white light, and I reached over. With eyes still closed, I tried to touch him, to ward off the morning for just a minute more.

  When my hand found nothing but the cool pillowcase and empty space beside me, I sat up and listened for the sound of voices. The clock read six thirty and the house was like a concrete wall of silence—stifling, suffocating, frightening. Where was the noise? Mike and his parents should be bustling to get out the door. Had something changed?

  I jumped out of bed and darted down the hall, stopping myself before I crashed into the window. If I’d jumped off a skyscraper, my heart wouldn’t have plummeted more. There were no cars in the driveway except for my own. They’d left. Mike had left. His parents had left. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

  I fell to my knees, my chest hurting so bad I doubled over and let my forehead hit the carpet. If silence had a sound, it was louder than the whip-like crack of thunder, more jolting than the piercing blare of a siren, more devastating than the rumbling bellow of a catastrophic earthquake.

  SOMETIME LATER I peeled myself off the floor and stumbled back to my room. I grabbed my phone.

  Come stay with me. Andersons are out of town.

  I didn’t expect Jess to answer but at least my message would be waiting for her when she checked her phone. She would come and stay with me. All she wanted was to get away from her dad and his new girlfriend.

  I crawled back into bed. It felt cold and foreign, all the warmth and love gone. I burrowed under as far as I could and lifted onto my elbows. With my small book light turned on, I flipped to a new page in my journal.

  The path is hidden

  Behind a smoky curtain

  So thick with tears

  And pain

  I can’t see.

  Is it there?

  Does it exist?

  Or will I, little Rowan Slone, get lost in the mist?

  I slammed the journal shut. No one would ever see these poems. They were so stupid. Stupid. I threw the pen across the room.

  When my phone started to ring, I lunged for it so fast, I knocked it off the nightstand and had to crawl under the bed to get it. By the time I fished it out it had gone to voice mail. But I could see who called—my grandmother. The voicemail box lit up to tell me she’d left a message.

  Hi, Rowan. It’s Gran. Trina told me that you know your dad is back in town. Can you come over for dinner tonight? I think it would be good if you could see him. Being as stubborn as he is, he may not call you. But I know he wants to see you. He keeps asking if you’re coming home. I don’t think he believes me when I tell him that you haven’t been here since last May.

  She released a heavy sigh, her breath bristling through the phone. I miss you. I wonder if you’ve spent any time with Trina. Something seems to be going on with her. I’m just not sure what. But I trust you’ll tell me if there’s anything I need to know.

  Please come to dinner tonight. I’ll make chicken and dumplings. I hope they’re still your favorite. If you can’t come over, at least call me. Her voice cracked. I love you, sweetheart.

  My Gran had known that my mom was the one who killed Aidan. She’d known it the day after he died. And she’d kept the secret all that time.

  Part of me could understand. How difficult would it be to turn your own child in for murder? And for me, I was only ten and she didn’t think anything would come of it. His death was a natural cause. Putting the blanket on him was not a criminal offense.

  But she couldn’t know how devastating the past years had been. Aidan’s death had shaped every single part of my life. It had formed my relationships with Mom, Dad, Trina, even myself. I failed the fifth grade because I couldn’t cope. The guilt that had weighed down my thin shoulders was so much it was amazing I could hold myself up.

  I deleted the message. Almost immediately there was a text. It was from Jess.
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br />   Where are they?

  At Mike’s game. I don’t want to stay here alone.

  That’s right. I forgot. Let me see if Paul is around tonight. I’ll definitely come over tomorrow if not today.

  K.

  You ok?

  But I flipped the phone closed. Beside my bed sat my earbuds. I shoved them into my ears and turned the volume all the way up on my iPod. Within a beat, the music was too loud for any thought to take hold—exactly what I wanted.

  I lay there with my brain pulsing. Outside the window the sky was a dark gray, like it was so many winter days in this area. It wasn’t snowing, though, and I was glad for Mrs. Anderson. She was always worried about the snow.

  After an hour or so, I turned off the music, my ears still ringing long after I pulled the buds out. I crept out of bed and grabbed the pen I’d thrown. I pulled out my journal. I’d write in it for me, even if the poems were stupid.

  Will winter be gone,

  Or will it always reside?

  Will the darkness flitter away,

  Or will it never subside?

  I stared out the window until the cap of the pen was chewed flat. I lifted Scout off the bed and went downstairs to check on the dogs. Levi bounded toward the door, pawing at the white wood. Delilah snorted at me from the couch but didn’t move.

  My phone dinged a new message, and I flipped it open.

  Miss you already.

  Just as I started to write miss you too something stopped me. Aggravation that he’d left again? Hurt that he hadn’t said goodbye?

  It wasn’t right to hold his leaving against him. He didn’t have a choice. Having been given a soccer scholarship, he had to do what the coaches wanted. But he didn’t have to leave without waking me up and telling me goodbye.

  The world beneath my feet was shaking, and I knew it would take everything I had to stay upright.

  I STOOD at the window watching Levi try to get Delilah to wrestle in the backyard. It had been two hours since I had sent a text to Jess about coming over, and she couldn’t get here fast enough. The silence in this large house was so heavy it was suffocating.

  When the phone dinged again, I hurried to open it. It was from Jess.

  Be over in an hour. How long can I stay?

  Andersons back in two days. You can stay till then.

  Good. I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.

  JESS SHOWED up sooner than I expected. Her eyes were red-rimmed, swollen, and glassy. It was hard to tell if she was just tired or had been crying. My instincts told me it was the latter but when I asked if everything was okay, she said it was and walked away.

  Later that evening when we were making spaghetti for dinner, I asked her again. She’d been quiet and moody all day. Between the two of us, you’d think our lives were ending. I knew my friend and knew she was pregnant, but was there something more?

  I was thawing frozen meatballs in marinara sauce while Jess stared out the window. A heavy snow had started to fall, but I didn’t think it was the fluffy flakes that held her attention. Her shoulders were slumped and every now and then she wiped at her eyes.

  “Okay, Jess. Spill it.” I stood at the counter with a hand on my hip.

  “Huh?” She wiped her eyes again and looked at me over her shoulder.

  “Jess, what’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Tell me. I’m not going to quit asking.”

  She didn’t face me as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Paul’s gone.”

  I dumped the pasta into the colander. “Gone? Back to Colorado? I thought he just got home.”

  I pulled two plates out of the cabinet and placed them on the table, stopping near her side.

  “He never came back.”

  My hands stopped mid-air. “What do you mean he never came back?”

  Jess walked toward the counter and stirred the marinara sauce. “When he went to Colorado he never came back.”

  “Well…have you heard from him? Is everything okay?” Was he dead in a ditch somewhere?

  Several seconds passed and I walked around the counter, moving toward her on heavy feet. I placed my hand on her shoulder. She stopped stirring.

  “He’s not coming back. He is staying in Colorado. Without me.”

  Levi padded into the room. He licked Jess’ hand, and her fingers brushed over his fur. Finally she turned to me, tears filling her blue eyes.

  “It’s over. He’s not coming back, and I’m not going out to be with him.” She yanked off her glasses and wiped at her eyes.

  “What happened?”

  She inhaled a shaky breath. “He’s just done. He doesn’t want me…us.”

  “Does he know you’re pregnant?” My voice was hushed like I didn’t want to give away a secret.

  She slumped over the counter, her head in her hands.

  My hand rubbed her back sympathetically. The question lingered in the air like a menacing buzz.

  “He knows,” she sobbed.

  “He knows you’re pregnant and he’s not coming back? Jess, that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s going to find a job?” My head tilted to the side—like that would help rebalance my brain.

  Her tears fell onto the counter in tiny droplets. “He told me that he wasn’t ready to be a father. That I should take care of it, and he didn’t mean take care of a baby.”

  “He wants you to have an abortion?”

  She nodded, running her hands through her greasy hair. “That’s his answer.” She stood and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “He said that he wanted to break things off for a while. That he had been planning to go to Colorado alone for weeks; he just wasn’t sure how to tell me. So when I told him I was pregnant—poof—he’s off to Colorado for good.”

  Nausea and fury erupted in waves, tearing through my stomach. My fingers shook with rage. How dare he?

  But I had to bite my tongue. She seemed so sad, like a little girl lost in a meadow of tall grass where she couldn’t see a way out, where there was no way out.

  I pulled out a kitchen chair and lightly pushed her toward it until she sat down. I gently grasped her hands in mine, and we talked long into the night.

  MY ALARM went off early the next morning, but Jess and I were still awake. We had never gone to sleep. We were lying on my bed still talking—about Mike, Paul, pregnancy, parents, what she was going to do.

  “Guess we’d better get ready.” I rolled over and scooped Scout into my arms. She lay on my chest, warm and purring, her wet nose nudging my chin any time I stopped petting her.

  “Are you awake?” I expected Jess to start moaning—we’d just been talking not five minutes ago. But her breath had deepened. I leaned over her. The circles under her eyes had grown darker over the past weeks like little black half-moons against a pale sky.

  I laid Scout down beside her and went to take a quick shower. When I went back to my bedroom she was snoring softly. Scout was curled into a small, furry ball in the pillow by her head. I didn’t know if I should wake her or not so as I got ready, I made more noise than I needed to, keeping an eye on her. She didn’t budge, though, even when I accidentally knocked a box of shoes off a shelf in the closet.

  It felt so good to wear my old boots the other day that I rummaged through my things until I found an old pair of jeans. When I moved in with the Andersons, I’d put on weight and these jeans had become too tight—the first time I’d ever put on clothes that were too tight. Now they fit like a well-worn glove. Guess those eight pounds were gone.

  I found my hoodie and pushed my feet into my old boots. I put in the earrings Mike gave me and slid the ring on my finger. Except it didn’t feel right. It felt too heavy and awkward against my skin even though it was a perfect fit. I put it back in its box and went to wake Jess.

  “Time to get up.” I pushed her shoulder. “Jess? Get up.” Still no answer. “Jess!”

  “Huh?” Her voice was muffled in the pillow.

  �
�It’s time for school. You know that place you go to learn.”

  “I’m not going. Too tired.” Scout pawed at Jess’ hair.

  “Come on, Jess. You can’t miss the first day back.”

  “I can do whatever I want. I’m eighteen.”

  “You’re not eighteen.”

  “Close enough.”

  “I’ll make breakfast. Go shower, and I’ll get something ready.”

  “Okay. But then I’m coming back to bed.” She flipped to her side, putting her back to me.

  I sighed as she yanked the covers over her head.

  “Fine.” I left the room. I didn’t make her breakfast. She could fend for herself when she got up. I let Levi outside and was hit with a blast of freezing air.

  “Come on, Delilah. Go outside. I have to leave.”

  The bulldog barely cracked open one eye before promptly shutting it again.

  “Fine. Jess can let you out.”

  I grabbed my empty backpack and pulled on the winter coat Tabitha had given me. It was a designer coat—one of those that had the label on the chest, the same coat all the popular girls wore to school. It really wasn’t my style, but it did keep me warm. I found my keys and left through the front door, locking it behind me.

  TWO BLOCKS away I realized I didn’t have gas, and I pulled into the nearest station. I had remembered my phone today and checked it one more time to see if Jess had changed her mind but the screen was blank.

  After putting the nozzle in the car, I went into the food mart to get a coffee. I walked out the door and was halfway through my first sip when I jolted to a stop in the middle of the parking lot, spilling coffee down the front of my jacket. My car sat before me, the gas line snaking out of the side like a black, ominous reptile. But it was the person standing beside it that sent tremors through my blood like an earthquake.