Gone From Me (3 page)

At the top of the stairs is a long hallway, several closed doors on each side. I’m thinking maybe I should forget about cleaning my shirt and go find Gina. Get more
Jungle Juice and maybe try a couch shot after all. But as I’m debating, I’m walking, and open a door.

The room is full of smoke and a strange smell. Two guys are sitting on the lower bed of a set of bunks, holding a python. It must be ten feet long. Its slithery body is trying to coil around one of the guys’
thighs. A couple of girls are in chairs across from them.  They’re laughing. One girl passes a pipe to the guy getting his leg throttled. He takes it, inhales, and holds his breath. The girl across from him stands and places her lips on his. As he exhales, he rubs one of her breasts over her shirt.

They notice me and the guy whose thigh isn’t being strangled says, “Come on in.” He gives me a lopsided grin
, showing off a dimple.

“That’s okay.” I close the door and head down the stairs. My sticky shirt is going to remain sticky—at least until I get back to my room.

This house reminds me of a fun house at a carnival, and it’s exhilarating. Every step, every turn is filled with strange and thrilling horrors.

I carefully make my way back to the living room and search for Gina. She’s talking to a couple of guys. They laugh. A coy smirk flashes across her face a
nd she places a hand on each guy’s chest.

“Gina! Gina!” I wave, but
the party is too loud. Moving past people, I make my way toward my roommate. 

Another set of girls is being couch tipped. It’s like a weird ritual. I can’t help but stare. Which is bad because that means I’m not watching where I’m going.

I walk into a hard body.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low. “Watch it.” He smells like fresh laundry and
beer. The kind my dad used to drink.

Glancing
up, I’m about to utter an apology but the words freeze on my lips. His eyes are brilliant blue. Twin glaciers. Bright. Cold.

“It can’t be.” I step back, falling into someone. My heart is pounding against my ribs, dying to break free, to run like wild horses. It’s in my throat. He’s here. Kyle. Right now.
In front of me. He’s here.

Kyle catches me and pulls me against his chest. I know I should twist out of his arms, ignore the way his warm fingers crackle memories I thought I left
behind. Instead I cling to him. We promised each other all of our firsts. “Kyle,” I whisper, smiling against his shirt. Smiling like I haven’t smiled in seven years.

He pulls me from the stranglehold I have on him. I blink and realize what I’ve done. How long was I holding him like that? He’s grinning. “If you’d care to join us, I’m sure we can make room.” Sexy lips form a bigger smile, showing his straight white teeth. Last
time I saw him he had braces. Kyle glances to his left and I follow his gaze. Two girls, both with perfect chestnut hair and over-done faces, look at me like I’ve slaughtered a lamb.

I
peek at him. Surprised. What is he asking? Doesn’t he remember me? I take in all of him at once. He’s probably two feet taller than the last time I saw him. Dark, wavy hair, a little on the longer side, hangs in his eyes. He keeps flipping it. His body is lean but muscled, like he plays a sport. He always liked basketball and hockey. His skin is tanned, but then it always was. His eyes are the same, as is the way his lips form a smile.

Kyle
,
I think, my heart smashing itself to pieces. Have I really changed so much?

Something like recognition flickers in his eyes. “Or it could just be you and me,” he whispers enticingly.

I blink several times.

The girls to his right let out a string of expletives.

My body is saying
yes, yes, yes
. Another first. With Kyle, the boy I’ve loved since I was nine.

My mind remembers why I haven’t seen him in seven years. Even with all the alcohol, I snap back to reality. And pull myself from his grasp.

“Sorry.” I move away. The smoky air, the stench of sweat and perfume, and the loud music—it twirls my stomach in knots. 

“Hey,” he calls after me, but I don’t turn back.

I can’t.

Kyle

“Shit!”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Baby sulks. “It was supposed to be me and you. And Beth,” she adds, glancing at her girlfriend.

“No kidding. We’re out of here.
” Beth grabs Baby’s arm and starts to drag her away.

“No. I want him.” Baby
clutches my arm. “Come on, Kyle. Let’s get out of here. We’ll make you forget all about that girl.”

I hear Beth and Baby talking. Know Baby is pulling on my arm, but I can’t take my eyes off Maddie.

“Fuck!” She looks great. Better than great. Hot. Gorgeous. Amazing. My resolve is gone. I want Maddie. I’ve always only wanted her. And that makes me a complete and total ass. Because she doesn’t want me.

“Are we going to do this or not?” Beth asks, getting in my face. She’s definitely the more
masculine of the two, but still beautiful. The girls look more like sisters than girlfriends.

“
Damn right. Let’s go.” I grab her hand.

4

Maddie

Remembering

I don’t tell Gina I’m leaving. I hope she doesn’t get mad, but I won’t stay a second longer. My mind is reeling with thoughts.
Of him. Kyle Hadley. I knew there was a chance he’d be here. This is his hometown. It used to be mine. Part of me is glad. We were best friends and neighbors for the first eleven years of our lives. He was born a year before me. Our parents were good friends too. At least I thought so, until the night my mom and dad died.

I walk home from a friend’s house. It’s late, and I’m worried my parents will be mad. As I come around the corner heading into my backyard, I see two men leave my house by the back door. The light from the back porch is on. I hide, worried it might be my dad talking to one of his coworkers. I don’t want him to yell at me.

From my spot behind the butterfly bushes I quickly realize it isn’t my dad, but two other men. One carries a gun and whispers furiously at the other.

“We need to find her.”

“Fine. I’ll go.”

Kyle Hadley’s dad is the one holding the gun. He taps the other guy in the chest with it. “I’m counting on you.”

Hatred pinches his face.

When they are gone I run in the house. A fierce tightening clenches my chest and I don’t know why.

“Mom! Dad!
” I shout, searching for them. I pass through the kitchen and into the family room. My feet slide to a stop. Mom is on the floor, blood pooling under her. Dad is lying on the floor beside her, his arm draped over her waist. They look like they’re sleeping, except for all the blood. So much blood.

My mind shuts down. I’m not prepared for the scene in front of me. It can’t be right. Nothing’s happened. Nothing happened. It’s a mistake. I’m dreaming.

I run back to my friend’s and hide in her pool house. I tell myself everything will be fine in the morning, back to normal. After a while I fall asleep. 

I wake to the sound of barking German Shep
herds. With swollen eyes I peek through the glass walls. The police are searching around the pool and heading toward the place where I’m hiding. I open the door, and a hard whiff of chlorine stings my nose. A female police officer sees me and comes over.

“Are you Maddelena Martin?” she asks tenderly.

I nod.

“My name is Mary. I need to speak with you. It’s about your parents. Will you come with me?”

Any hope I had leaves my body. They are dead. My parents are dead. Kyle’s dad was there with a gun. He killed my parents. I feel a scream well up inside. I keep my teeth clenched in my mouth.

Two other police officers join her, as well as a lady in a gray suit. She sinks down to her knees so I can see her face. Her features are kind, filled with tenderness. “Do you go by Maddelena or something else?” There’s a light in her eyes, like she knows I hate my name and doesn’t blame me.

“Maddie,” I say, blinking rapidly.

“May I hold your hand?” she asks quietly.

I nod.

They take me to the police station, and I stay there until my aunt and uncle come.

Two distinct aromas are scorched onto my brain: chlorine and the smell of donuts. A lady at the police station gave me a custard-filled donut. I ate it, and then puked it up later.

The police say my parents were killed in a robbery. I tell them they’re wrong, that I saw Kyle Hadley’s dad leave my house. That he had a gun. Their eyes get wide. One says, “You mean Chief Hadley?”

I glance around the room. It’s obvious no one believes me. I can understand. He’s handsome and has a charming smile. I used to think he was so cool, until the first time I saw him hit Kyle. Since then I’ve steered clear. Even my parents told me never to go over to Kyle’s if his dad was home. And my parents were his friends—at least I thought so, until last night. I didn’t see him shoot my parents, but I saw the gun. I know what he did. 

My aunt
touches my arm and whispers, “Don’t say another word. Not one. You hear me?” She pats my knee and gives me a stern look.

A sick terror
races up my spine at the urgency in her voice. I give her a look. It seems so unfair. I know what I saw.

“I mean it,” she adds.

At that moment Kyle Hadley’s dad walks in, wearing his uniform. His features appear concerned. But I know the look. He’s arrogant, daring me to say something.

I want to reach over and rip the smug look off Chief Hadley’s face. But my aunt is like a second mother, so I listen.

I will not cry
, I think, even as tears leak from my eyes. And I wish there was some way I could make him pay.  

One of the officers asks, “Is this the man you saw leaving your parent’s house last night?”

I shake my head.

“Is that a no?” t
he female asks.

“No,” I say firmly. I give my aunt a sideways look. She nods. “I must’ve been mistaken
. It was dark,” I continue in a whisper.

Chief Hadley
smiles. His large black and white mustache rises into his nose, and I wish it would suffocate him. “You’ve had a rough night, kiddo. I’m so sorry.”

I cringe, pressing my body
to my aunt’s side.

A while later we leave. My aunt and uncle take me to live with them in Sugar River, Wyoming
, a small town twenty minutes from my home in Bellam Springs. We bury my parents in a cemetery about a mile from my aunt and uncle’s house.

I don’t get to tell
Kyle or my friends from school good-bye. We just pack up a few of my favorite things and leave.

Kyle
calls my aunt and uncle’s house, of course. He’s my best friend, after all. But I can’t talk to him. I don’t know how to wrap my brain around his father killing my parents and getting away with it. My aunt tells me the chief is a dangerous man. That the world is full of scary people and Daniel Hadley is one of them.

My aunt says, “Know this, Maddie. Bad men raise bad kids. It’s a fact, I tell you. Do not talk to Kyle or you’ll be sorry. That’s a promise.”

I am beyond sick with grief at losing my parents, so I accept what she says.

After a
while I become angry and throw raging fits, breaking anything I get my hands on. When I shatter every piece of my aunt’s favorite china, I know for sure they’ll send me away, and that’s what I want. A gaping crater replaces the space where my heart used to be, and I don’t care what happens.

Instead, they take me to see Abigail, my shrink, and they buy a black baby grand piano. They force me to take lessons
five days a week from Mrs. Nelson, an older woman. She was a concert pianist years ago. She loves music. Mrs. Nelson kindly and tenderly pours all of that love into me. It helps fill the hole, patches it up, and slowly I’m able to live again.

Until tonight.

Kyle doesn’t remember me. I recognized him immediately. 

It feels as though my body is being torn in half.

Seeing Kyle has brought back every
moment we shared. He’s the boy I loved. The boy I used to dream of marrying. The boy I made a pact with. First kiss. First time. And I secretly believed he’d be more. My first and only husband. I dreamed of our wedding, what I’d wear, what he’d wear. The colors. The words we’d say to each other. I used to make myself cry at how touching his words were, almost like a poem or lyrics to a beautiful song. Then he would confess his everlasting love. And kiss me.

He was all I ever wanted.

But seeing him also brings back fresh wounds, stabbing, ripping my heart to shreds. His father killed my parents. Shot them dead, and got away with it.

My hands shake and tears spill onto my cheeks. Hurriedly I wipe them away, hoping no one notices as I make my way to my room.

“This can’t be happening.” I rip off my shirt and toss the smelly thing into my hamper. My bra is stained too and I unhook it, throwing it into the hamper as well. Pulling off my jeans, I kick them near the hamper and put on an oversized t-shirt. It was my dad’s. Across the front are the words:
Bellam Sprints Police Force
.

I curl into bed, pulling my comforter around me for warmth and protection. I lay there crying for a long time, until the sun comes up and I finally sleep.