The Truth of Letting Go Read online

  “So what’s your plan? Call them up and ask if Thomas Novak bought a car from them four years ago?”

  Her smile turns into a sneaky grin. “I have a better plan than that.”

  A lead weight drops into my stomach. Cece says, “We’re going to go there and ask personally. It’s only four and a half hours away. Chances are, Thomas lives down there, or he used to. We’ll already be in the area so we can get his address and go find him.”

  I don’t even know what to say to that. Deflect and distract. I take a shaky breath and hope she doesn’t haul off and hit me when I say what I’m about to say. “Are you hungry? Let’s go to the kitchen and make a snack. PB&J?”

  “I’m not hungry.” She holds up her hands. “But I’m also not stupid, Lilah. You were sleeping, I get that. Plus, it’s one in the morning, meaning we’d arrive in El Campo too early anyhow. So, I’m thinking you can go back to sleep and we’ll go in the morning once you’re refreshed.”

  I blink. I am utterly and completely at a loss for words. Mom warned me about the dangers of telling her no. I can’t disagree with her directly. I’ve seen what happens when she’s in a mood like this and she’s told no. It’s not pretty.

  But there’s no way in hell I’m taking her to El Campo, Texas. I don’t even know where that is. So here we are, stuck in this awkward limbo at one in the morning. She’s watching me with eager eyes, those two dimples in her round cheeks because she’s smiling so big. I can see the flash of worry in her gaze, the slight furrow of her auburn brows.

  I mean really, she has to know what I’m going to say.

  But each second I can’t bring myself to say it is a second she’s winning this war, if only in her own head. I clear my throat and look down, trying to summon the courage to tell her there’s no freaking way we’re driving Mom’s car to El Campo.

  “Cece, what you’ve discovered is a random car from years ago that seems like it matches another random car from a photo on Google. Those two things don’t inherently have anything to do with Thomas.”

  A muscle in her jaw twitches. She holds up one finger. “The car in question was Thomas’ dream car.” She holds up another finger. “And the car in question was parked in my driveway. That’s valid. Lawyers would use that stuff in murder cases if they had it. It’s evidence. You can’t deny it.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “We can’t take Mom’s car on a nine hour round trip, Cece. She’d kill us.”

  She sits a little straighter. “I never said we’d take her car. We can find another car. I have money; we can rent one.”

  “I—”

  She stands, her laptop falling to the carpet with a cracking sound that makes me cringe. The screen glows up at us in the dark, so I guess it’s okay. Cece most definitely does not care if it’s okay.

  I prepare myself for a screaming match, but when Cece talks, her voice is calm. “I need you on this, Lilah. I need you to say yes. You know I can’t drive. You know I can’t get out of this stupid house unless you unlock the doors. Don’t let me down.”

  “I’m not trying to let you down,” I say as the word deflect runs through my head on repeat. How would Mom get out of this? “Come on, let’s go make something to eat. I think we have cookie dough in the fridge.”

  “Stop trying to distract me. I’m not crazy. I’m not having an episode, okay?” She makes air quotes over the words crazy and episode. Luckily it’s still pretty dark in my room so she can’t see me blush. Sometimes I forget she’s aware of her situation and not just blissfully ignorant of it.

  I decide to level with her. Maybe all of this therapy stuff from Mom is stupid. I stand up too and look her in the eyes. “Listen, Cece. Here’s the thing. We can’t go to El Campo. My parents gave us rules and we’re still minors and we have to obey them. I know you’re going to be pissed, but it isn’t my fault. I’m not stealing Mom’s car, I’m not illegally renting a car because you have to be twenty-five to rent one, and I’m not going on some stupid trip to chase down an idea that’s only going to prove that you’re wrong and that Thomas is dead.”

  Cece is silent for a long time. To her credit, she doesn’t ignite and try to kill me, which is what the look in her eyes tells me she’s probably thinking of doing. She opens her mouth, then closes it. Then she bursts into tears. Real, huge, heartbreaking tears. She doesn’t even wipe them off her face, she just lets them slide down her cheeks and splash onto the carpet.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she says. “I’m a burden. I’m crazy and I’m bipolar and I get too excited over things that are too small.” She gazes around my room while she talks. It’s almost like she’s taking to herself, not me. But I hear every word and it cuts into me like a searing blade. “I’m an embarrassment. I have been since Thomas disappeared and they put me in that nut house for two weeks. I know you think I’m annoying. I know your friends think I’m annoying. I see how you turn the other way when I walk toward you in the cafeteria. I know people call me annoying behind my back. I know you’ve said it, too. You think I don’t see, or you think I’m too stupid to notice, but I do.”

  My eyes fill with tears as her epic confession unfolds. I can’t help it, seeing her cry is making me cry. I can feel her pain, radiating from her chest and into mine. Guilt claws up my spine, digging into my heart. The worst part is that she’s right. About all of it.

  She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand but it doesn’t do much to help. With a shaky breath, she says, “We used to be best friends, Lilah. You’re still my best friend. You’re all I’ve got and yet you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you,” I say, wishing I had the words to tell her how sorry I am for being this way all these years.

  She lifts her shoulders. “You have a life and friends and you have your sanity all the time. I know I’m not like you and I never will be, but Lilah, you’re all I’ve got. Please, I’m begging you. Please do this with me. Just one trip and if it doesn’t lead me to Thomas then we’ll come right home and I’ll shut up about it.” She blinks and tears keep pouring down her cheeks. “Please, Lilah.”

  Somewhere deep down, I’m wondering what it would be like to break all of the rules for someone who needs me. Maybe I’m even a little curious about why that mysterious Jeep was parked at their old house. But the last thing I’m going to do is put our lives in danger because I’m too reckless to be trusted with the responsibility my parents have given me.

  The lump in my throat burns, but I hold my ground. “We can’t go.”

  Cece exhales. “Fine. Guess I’ll go alone.”

  I wake up to the smell of bacon and the sound of Mom’s ringtone on my phone. My body is not ready to take on the day, but since Mom won’t stand for an unanswered call, I force myself up and pry open my eyes with what little willpower I have. It’s seven in the morning.

  “Good morning,” Mom says all cheerfully. “You weren’t still sleeping, were you?”

  “Uh, no,” I say, even though it comes out like a question.

  Mom tsks. “You can’t sleep away your entire summer, Lilah. You should prepare for becoming an adult. How are your studies going?”

  “Really well,” I lie over a yawn. Mom wanted me to study all her old teacher textbooks so that I can go to college to also be a teacher. I’m not entirely sure I want that as a career choice, but until I come up with something better, Mom won’t relent on the importance of being prepared.

  The smell of coffee drifts into my room, urging my senses to wake up. As I stare at the stack of old textbooks, the coffee aroma blesses me with an idea that might solve Cece’s problem. I refuse to take her on a road trip without permission but…what if we had permission?

  “Hey, Mom? I was thinking of something that would really help with my future career,” I say, making this up as I go along. I sit up straighter and try to sound like I’ve thought this through. “I think this week would be really fun to travel around and visit some colleges. They do tours in the summer, so maybe I could go visit U of H
, UT, and possibly A&M?”

  I’m making guestimates in my head as I talk, and all three of those colleges together would put enough miles on the car to make it look like that’s where we went instead of El Campo.

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Mom says and my heart leaps up into my chest along with a huge dose of anxiety. Can we really pull this off? Mom sighs. “But you can’t leave Cece home alone.”

  “I would take her with me,” I say, gripping the phone to my ear. “She’s interested in college, too.”

  Mom makes this hesitant sound. “No, I’m sorry. That’s not a good idea.”

  As much as I don’t want to leave the house, Cece’s words have haunted me since last night. I know I owe it to her to at least try to give her this road trip. So I keep lying through my teeth. “We’d be really safe. I’ll bring the pepper spray and everything. We can visit one school each day so it won’t be much traveling at all.”

  “Maybe when I get back we can all go,” Mom says. “For now, you study the textbooks and keep Cece under control. How’s she doing?”

  I’m pretty sure she hasn’t slept in twenty-four hours. But it smells like she’s cooking breakfast so at least she’s eating. I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “She’s fine.”

  “Great. I’m heading to class now. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” I say as I hang up the phone.

  Cece’s in the kitchen, wearing Mom’s apron while she moves pieces of bacon around in the pan. There’s fresh brewed coffee, a stack of buttered toast on a plate, and bacon. Lots of bacon.

  “No eggs?” I say as I make a cup of coffee. “Or pancakes?”

  “Bacon is the only good part of breakfast,” she says, wielding the tongs like an expert. She’s already dressed for the day in a pair of rolled cuff capris and a purple camo tank top. “Eggs are gross and pancakes are too sugary and they make me sluggish. I need protein and coffee.”

  “And buttered toast,” I add.

  She tosses me a grin over her shoulder. Dark circles shadow her eyes but she seems awake and cheerful. “That’s for you. I know you love carbs.”

  “So…you’re not still mad at me?” I ask, taking a bite of toast.

  “I’ll manage the trip on my own,” she says, which is decidedly not an answer to my question.

  She shoves a plate into my hand and then takes her seat at the dining table, her own plate piled high with bacon. I sit diagonally across from her and put some toast and bacon on my plate. It’s almost like we’re a normal family for about thirty seconds. Then Cece jumps up and curses under her breath.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  She opens the kitchen cabinet and takes out her pill box. “Almost forgot Monday’s crazy pills,” she says with a snort. “Aunt Carol usually brings them to me.” She downs the little blue pill with a sip of coffee and then joins me back at the table.

  “So I’m guessing you didn’t change your mind while you were asleep?” She emphasizes the last word like I’m some kind of idiot for wanting to sleep in the middle of the night.

  “No,” I say. “I can’t break the rules for this, but I did ask Mom about taking her car to look at colleges, thinking it might get us permission to leave.”

  “Wow.” She actually sounds surprised. She takes a bite of bacon and looks back at her coffee. “That’s cool of you.”

  I shrug. “It didn’t work.”

  “Of course it didn’t. This is Aunt Carol we’re talking about.”

  The doorbell rings. Cece tucks her hair behind her ears and smiles sweetly. “Can you disarm the house and let him in?”

  “Him?” I say. I don’t know if it’s the coffee or my nerves, but my stomach twists into a knot. “You mean—?”

  “Ezra, yes.” She snorts. “It’s not like I have any other friends. Obviously I meant him. Now, door?”

  Why did I have to wear old leggings and a faded mathletes tank top from my freshman year to bed last night? A few hours ago it felt like such a good idea to slip into soft, comfortable pajamas, and now I’m regretting every second of it. Propriety stops me from rushing to my room to change. I can’t just let him stand out there forever. Plus, he has a girlfriend so why do I even care?

  Cece hovers in the foyer while I disable the alarm and open the door, internally cursing my stupid hormones. Ezra’s tanned skin glows in the rising sunlight, his shaggy black hair is silky straight now that it’s not coated in sweat. He’s wearing faded jeans and a red T-shirt. He’s also sporting a leather cuff bracelet on his wrist that I hadn’t seen yesterday.

  “Morning,” he says with a little wave. “I see the porch swing finally got fixed.”

  I glance over at the wooden swing hanging from the roof of our porch. Our house isn’t that far into the country, but it looks like it should be. White with dark blue shutters and a big covered porch that stretches all around the house. The porch was Mom’s favorite feature when we moved here. I walk past that swing so often it’s easy to forget what used to take place in that very spot. One time the four of us, Ezra and me and my cousins, were swinging on the old wooden swing that came with the house. The wood was cracking and after a few minutes, the armrest fell off the chain and we all went tumbling to the porch. Dad was pissed, but Mom was happy that we could finally replace the old junky swing with a better one. Ironically, no one ever swings in it now.

  “We were just finishing breakfast,” Cece says. “Do you want some bacon?” Her eager voice pulls me from my reminiscing and brings me back to real life where I look like some kind of slovenly bum and Ezra Flores looks like a Filipino god.

  He shakes his head. “I’m good, but I have to get work soon so let’s figure this out.”

  “Figure what out?” I say, turning a suspicious look onto my cousin. “Did you tell him?”

  “Of course I did. You can’t help me so I found someone who could.” She motions to Ezra. “Come on, let’s sit in the living room and discuss.”

  Reluctantly, I follow the two people I used to know fairly well. Now they’re talking quickly to each other, excitedly hashing out a plan while I stumble along behind wondering when I became the outsider. Actually, I guess it’s pretty obvious. The moment I told Cece no, she hatched a plan without me.

  “So here’s the bad news,” Ezra says when we’re seated in the living room. I pull a couch pillow into my lap in a pathetic effort to hide how stupid I look. Cece leans forward, elbows on her knees while he talks. He frowns. “I don’t have a car. I mean, I have a truck but it’s been in the shop for three days. Alternator. I swung by there today but it won’t be ready before Mr. and Mrs. Monroe get back.”

  I forgot he called my parents by the formal version of their names. Sounds weird hearing him say it now. A little bit of relief blossoms in my chest at the same time Cece frowns. If Ezra can’t drive her, then her crazy trip can’t happen. I want to pump my fist in victory but I keep my face calm.

  “No problem,” Cece says. Her hands grip her knees and she bounces in her seat a little. “We’ll figure it out. Your brain and mine—we’ll get it done.” She darts a look in my direction and I crinkle my nose at her.

  “So no Lilah?” Ezra asks, his tone implying that they’ve talked at length about my potential involvement.

  Cece shrugs. “Sadly, no.”

  “Wait,” I say looking at Ezra only to find him watching me right back. “How did you get here if you don’t have a car?”

  “My coworker Rolando brought me. He’s waiting outside.”

  “He can come in,” I say, standing to let him inside.

  Ezra holds out a hand. “Nah. He doesn’t speak English and he’d rather catch up on the soccer scores. Trust me, it’s fine. I can’t stay long anyway. I just wanted to tell Cece the good news in person.”

  All of that relief I’d felt swoops out of me just as quickly as it arrived. “What good news?” Cece and I say at the same time.

  He leans forward, wringing his hands. He talks low, like he’s letting us in on
a secret. “I don’t have my truck, but I do have an RV.”

  Cece lets out a squeal and brings her hands to her face. Ezra grins. “It’s ugly as sin and it’ll be a gas hog, so that’ll suck, but I have a class B license so I can drive it. It’s got new tires and my dad just updated the registration so it’s all ready to go.”

  “You want to take Cece to El Campo?” I say. “In an RV?”

  He shrugs. “I want to find Thomas.”

  There’s a point of no return, and Cece’s quickly approaching it. When I’d refused to help her last night, I never thought she’d find a way to go on her own. Cece is on her feet, hugging Ezra and dancing around and talking about what time they should leave. Ezra says something about being off work the next two days and before I can find a good enough excuse to put a stop to this, they’re making plans to leave at four in the morning.

  Cece bounces off to get more coffee and I walk Ezra to the front door. Glancing behind me to make sure she’s still in the kitchen, I slip outside with him and pull the front door completely closed. “Listen, we need to talk,” I say, keeping my voice low.

  “Can I call you on my lunch break?” he says, nodding at the guy who’s waiting in a Chevy truck. The guy waves, and Ezra turns his attention back to me. “I need to get going.”

  “This will only take a second,” I say. I talk quickly and quietly. “You have to cancel this trip. Make up some excuse. Cece can’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  I glance back at the house. My heart is pounding, but this is the kind of situation where I have to do what’s right, not what makes me feel better. My responsibility is to my parents, to keep Cece safe. “Ezra, she’s bipolar. She can’t go.”

  “I know she’s bipolar,” he says, peering down at me with furrowed brows. “She’s not comatose and hooked up to life support. She can leave the house.”

  “She’s not supposed to go anywhere. My parents will kill me.”

  “They won’t find out.” He turns to step off the porch and I grab his arm, pulling him back.

  “Ezra. She can’t go. What if she flips out?”