“Obviously I have no idea, since five minutes ago I didn’t know the book existed.”
“Well, we need to find out. Pack a bag, we’re going to New York.”
“We are not going anywhere. You can go wherever the hell you want, but I’m staying right here.”
“You can’t just pretend this won’t have consequences, Kiera. Did you forget what happened when we didn’t do what we were told?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice now dripping with sarcasm. “I forgot.”
“You know what I’m talking about. We need to figure this out.”
“Again,” I say, “I didn’t write that book and I have no interest in knowing more. There is no way this book tracks back to me. And I’m not beholden to anyone like you are. So I’m just gonna pretend I never saw it.”
He stares at me for a second. I can practically see his mind working as he untangles my words and fits them back together in some new Connor Arlington way. Then he moves forward, towards my hallway.
“What are you doing?”
He ignores me. Just throws open a closet door and looks inside. He looks the contents over, then closes the door and walks into my bedroom.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
He finds the light switch and by the time I catch up to him, he’s already pulling open my closet door.
“Connor,” I say. “What the hell?”
“Where do you keep your luggage?”
“I’m not going to New York with you.”
“You are, Kiera. And you’ve got five minutes to pack or I’ll just take you out of here with no clothes.”
I cross my arms and lean against the doorjamb. “I’d like to see you try.”
“How do you not understand what happens next? Huh? You know what happens next, Kiera.”
“You don’t even know that book is about us, OK? So just calm down.”
He’s found my suitcases and he’s pulling one down off a shelf. “It is. Now pack.”
“No. I’m not going. Did you even look at the weather today? We’re in the middle of the biggest snowstorm in five years.”
“It’s barely snowing,” he says, bouncing the suitcase on the bed. He starts to unzip it.
“That’s because the storm took a break. But we’re supposed to get a lot more tonight.”
“How would you even know that? You don’t even have a weather app.”
“I have a weather radio. I might be simple but I’m not stupid.”
He looks at the window. It’s just about dark now even though it’s only late afternoon. Then he walks over to it, pulling his phone out of his coat and holding it up as he looks for a signal.
It’s snowing a lot harder than it was when he arrived. “I’m not lying. We’re gonna get dumped on tonight. It’s a five-and-a-half-hour drive to New York and there’s no way Burlington hasn’t cancelled all flights out. Like it or not, we’re not going anywhere.”
He places both hands on the windowsill, arching his back a little as he drops his head to stare at his feet.
“Just… calm down, OK? It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” he snaps, whirling around to face me. “It’s not fucking fine. Why are you lying to yourself? Whoever did this…” He sighs, shaking his head. “Whoever did this knew what would happen.”
“It’s been ten years,” I say. “It’s over.”
He laughs. “It’s not over. It never ended, Kiera. Not for me. Not for Hayes. Not for Bennett.”
“What do you mean? It ended back in school.”
“It. Never. Ended,” he growls.
I just stare at him. Blink a couple times.
“It never ended,” he says again. “It was a trap, don’t you see?”
“No,” I say. “I don’t see. I never got another message. I dropped the book off in the tower that night and walked away. You must know I didn’t stay for graduation. I just packed up my car after finals and drove away that same night.”
“Well, that’s not how it ended for us.”
“Explain,” I say. And I hate to admit it, but my voice is shaky. The fear I remember creeps over me like a thick, dark mist. It starts at the small of my back and climbs up my spine until all those tiny hairs on the back of my neck are tingling.
“What do you mean?” I ask, crossing the room and placing a hand on his arm. “What’s that mean?”
“I mean… it means whoever wrote this book knew what would happened if we ever told that story. It means…” He runs his fingers through his hair. Swallows hard. “I’m not going to get elected to the Senate. And if that was the worst thing that could happen I’d have written and published this book myself a long time ago. But we both know that’s not all that can happen.”
Emily.
Her name is on the tip of my tongue. So many years since I spoke it out loud. And I don’t say it now. I catch myself just in time.