I Take You Page 16

  Teddy and I began sneaking off together every chance we could get. Lee knew something was up. He kept trying to get me alone, but I made vague excuses. He’d call my house and I wouldn’t answer. I didn’t laugh at his jokes anymore. I was evasive. He was sad and worried. Frankly, he was becoming kind of a pain. We would have left him out of the plan entirely, but now he insisted on coming along. He was hyperenthusiastic and wouldn’t stop talking about how awesome it would be when we set off our bomb.

  All to impress me.

  “You should tell him,” Teddy said at one point.

  We were in my room, lying together on my bed. I stared at the ceiling, at the knife marks we’d made when we were little kids. Teddy was right, but I was procrastinating. Now that I’d gotten what I wanted, I was feeling guilty.

  “I’ll tell him,” I said. “Soon.”

  Two nights later, we met at midnight for our grand assault against the United States military. We sneaked up to the entrance to the base and set the bomb in front of a low concrete wall near the guard booth. I never did figure out how to incorporate the alarm clock, so we just lit the fuse, then hid behind a clump of palm trees about a hundred yards away.

  I remember it all so clearly. The uncertainty, the fear that we’d screwed up and wasted the dynamite, or that it was too old and crusty to work.

  When the bomb exploded, the sound was deafening. Flames shot up into the night, and the windows of a couple of buildings across the street blew out. We screamed with joy and danced in the light of the fire. Even Lee was thrilled.

  Then we heard the sirens.

  Somehow, we had failed to anticipate the possibility of a brisk response to an explosion near a military base. Lee started running toward the city marina. Teddy grabbed my hand. We ran through a modern housing development and back into Old Town. We raced through the narrow streets and lanes we knew so well, slipping over fences and through backyards, ducking behind parked cars, avoiding the streetlights.

  We finally came to a conch house on Eaton Street. My mom had worked on it a few years earlier. I knew that it was empty most of the year. We found a loose shutter and pried it open. Inside, we took turns drinking straight from the faucet, long gulps of lukewarm, rusty water that ran down our chins. We didn’t want to turn on the lights, but we found a few candles in the kitchen and lit them.

  Then we went upstairs, found the master bedroom and started taking each other’s clothes off.

  I stop talking. Freddy is watching me.

  “So,” she says. “Did you …?”

  “We did.”

  “You were fourteen?”

  I glance at her. “That surprises you?”

  “I guess not.” She pauses. “How was it?”

  I stare at the water. “Amazing.”

  It shouldn’t have been. It should have been like our first kiss, fumbling and uncomfortable. And it did hurt like hell for about three seconds. I cried out, and Teddy froze. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” I whispered back. “Yes yes yes.”

  I was okay. I was more than okay.

  He was inside me. I really, really liked it.

  And we were really, really good at it.

  We stayed there until close to dawn. Then Teddy walked me home and followed me up the almond tree and into my room. We undressed and did it again, moving slowly to keep the bed from creaking. Then he tucked me in and left.

  I drifted off to sleep, perfectly content. Something had changed—I could feel it. I had no interest in causing trouble anymore. I had just discovered the best possible way not to be bored.

  Too bad it was a little too late.

  The police showed up at Lee’s house around three that afternoon. Teddy came running to find me. The massive stupidity of what we’d done came crashing down on our heads. Dynamite, outside a naval base? Were we out of our minds? Why didn’t we listen to Lee and take it out to the beach, or blow up an abandoned fishing boat? Why did we have to destroy federal property?

  All of a sudden, the fun was over. We were potentially in real trouble—sent away to reform school, maybe actual prison. This was Florida, after all, where they love to try juveniles as adults.

  Teddy and I went back to his house and waited. The police stayed at Lee’s for a long time. We watched them leave. An hour or so later, Lee’s parents left, too.

  “Let’s go talk to him,” Teddy said. “Find out what they said.”

  I shook my head. “Let me go alone.”

  He was instantly suspicious, jealous. “Why?”

  “Just let me do it, Teddy. I’ll reassure him. I’ll make him understand.”

  When I went to the back door, I could see Lee sitting at the table in his kitchen, staring into space. I knocked and walked in. He turned to look at me.

  “They know,” he said, in a hushed voice. “They know it was us.”

  Someone had seen three kids loitering in the area before the bomb went off. With our stellar history, we were automatically prime suspects. The police had probably gone to Lee first so that Gran wouldn’t interfere.

  “It’s only a matter of time,” Lee said. His words were tumbling out. He was panicked. “We have to confess. It’ll be better for us. That’s what they told me.”

  I took his hands across the table. “Lee, they’re lying. They have no proof.”

  “My dad is going to kill me,” he whispered.

  He did have a crazy dad. Not abusive or anything, but super, super strict. A dad you don’t disappoint. Lee was terrified of him.

  I told him that we had to have a united front, that we couldn’t confess, that we’d be fine, that my grandmother would take care of it. She knew the police, the lawyers. She’d get us off. They didn’t have any solid proof that it was us. I smiled at him. I stroked his hands. I tried everything I could think of to manipulate him into doing what I wanted.

  “They’re trying to scare you, Lee. So what if they have an eyewitness? Gran always says eyewitness testimony is unreliable. And whoever it is couldn’t have actually identified us, or the cops would have arrested us already. All we need to do is—”

  “I thought you liked me,” Lee said suddenly.

  “What? Of course I like you.” I gave him an encouraging smile, praying that it didn’t look as phony as it felt.

  “I saw you guys run off. Where did you go?”

  “Where did we go?” I was thinking furiously. “We just, you know, we ran. We went back to my house.”

  Lee was staring at me, but he didn’t seem to hear a word I was saying. “Do you like him?”

  “What? No!” I reached out and took his hand, which he’d drawn away. “I want to be with you.”

  “You like him. You want to be with him.”

  “No! I don’t even think of him that way.”

  “Have you ever kissed him?”

  I didn’t respond. Lee was leaning forward in his chair, watching me intently. One knee was bouncing up and down under the table.

  “Lily. Did you kiss him?”

  “He kissed me,” I admitted. “I didn’t like it.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “What?” I tried to sound confused. But of course I knew what he meant. I knew what it was.

  “I saw you. You left me behind on purpose.”

  “We didn’t, Lee! We—”

  “Did you go off somewhere and do it?”

  “No!”

  “Tell me, and I won’t talk. I won’t confess. I just need to know.”

  I felt trapped. Could I trust him not to talk if I told him the truth? Did I have a choice?

  “What do you want to know?” I asked.

  Lee swallowed hard. “Did you do it?”

  I looked down, and then looked him in the eye.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  His face was perfectly blank. And that’s when I finally felt it, in my gut. He loved me. And I’d made him feel that way. I’d led him on. And now I’d broken his heart. Because he was fourteen years old, like me, an
d when you’re fourteen, everything is a tragic opera, everything is either the beginning of the world or the end of it.

  He had to stop looking at me like that. I couldn’t stand it.

  “It didn’t mean anything, Lee. It was stupid. I want to be with—”

  “Okay,” he said. “It’s okay.”

  “What’s okay?”

  “It’s all okay. It’s fine. I won’t talk.”

  I said a few more things to him. I tried to explain that it wasn’t for me, that it was better for all of us. But it was like he couldn’t even hear me. So eventually I left. As the screen door banged shut behind me, I could feel my spirits rising. We were in the clear. We weren’t going to get caught, everything was straight between me and Lee, and I could be with Teddy for real now, openly.

  All of my problems had been solved.

  A breeze puffs up out of nowhere, rippling the surface of the pool.

  “Was that it?” Freddy asks.

  “No.” The breeze fades away, the water stills. “About an hour later, Lee went to his parents’ closet, found his father’s handgun, and shot himself.”

  Freddy inhales sharply.

  I wish I could ease off the edge of the pool and into the water.

  “When his parents came home, Lee was still alive.” I pause. “He died in the hospital the next day.”

  I feel Freddy watching me, but I keep my eyes on the water.

  “Teddy and I confessed everything. In one way, we were very lucky. This happened in August of 2001.”

  “Jesus,” Freddy mutters.

  “Jesus is right. If we’d pulled our little stunt a few months later I’d still be in jail. Instead, it was all over in a few days—the investigation, the lawyers, the social workers. My father flew down with his crack legal team, and Gran called in every favor she had. So did Ana. All my parents got involved—it’s when they finally put aside their differences and bonded. I appeared before a judge and made all sorts of promises, and my parents made all sorts of promises, therapists and curfews and special classes, and my father paid a shitload of money, and then he took me to New York with him. I had a nice stay at a fancy psychiatric hospital on Long Island, where a lot of doctors tried to find out whether whatever was so obviously wrong with me could be diagnosed and medicated away, which, sorry, no. After that, I went away to school.”

  “What happened to Teddy?”

  “His mom was furious—she blamed me for everything. My dad offered to pay for a lawyer for him, but she refused. Ultimately they made him go to some juvie school near Miami. We … we lost touch.”

  “You didn’t see him again?”

  “Not until two days ago.”

  She’s silent for a moment. “It wasn’t your fault, Lily.”

  “Lee had problems,” I say. “He probably suffered from depression, but his parents refused to deal with it. They turned out to be bonkers. His mom came up to me in court, as we were leaving. She grabbed my arm, and she got really close to my face and said, ‘I hope you have a child someday. And I hope you have to watch him die.’”

  “Christ, Lily.”

  I shrug. “Can you blame her?”

  “But—”

  “No, I didn’t pull the trigger, and yes, he was already messed up, but look, Freddy. If it weren’t for me, and my recklessness, and my cruelty, Lee would be a twenty-seven-year-old with mild depression and a wacko family. Not a kid who’s been dead for almost as long as he was ever alive.”

  Freddy puts her arms around me. A cat saunters up to the edge of the swimming pool and bats at the water. Another breeze ripples the surface.

  I can still hear his voice. I thought you liked me, he said.

  I thought you liked me.

  16

  Freddy and I watch the water for a while.

  “Lily?” she says gently. “This is awful, I know. But let’s focus on the present. Is Will really going to care about all this? You were just a kid.”

  I think about Monday night. About Will’s concern that we don’t know that much about each other. His specific questions about my childhood.

  “Maybe not,” I say. “But if I don’t break up with him, his mother is also going to tell my law firm.”

  “Which makes her a total bitch,” Freddy says. “But again, so what? They love you. You’ve been amazing for them.”

  I press my palms to my eyes. “When you apply for admission to the bar, which is basically a license to practice as a lawyer, you have to disclose any past criminal offenses. Even offenses that have been expunged. They won’t necessarily stop you from being admitted,” I pause, “but if it later comes to light that you failed to disclose anything …”

  Freddy understands in an instant. “Lily. No.”

  “I screwed up! I screwed up, and if the firm finds out, they will fire me in a heartbeat. They could report me, and I could be suspended. Maybe even disbarred.”

  She thinks for a moment. “But you don’t have to be a lawyer. Your family has money. You can do whatever you want.”

  It’s sweet how she keeps trying to solve this. “I don’t like my job,” I say. “I love it. It’s the one thing I’ve ever wanted to do—the one thing I really feel suited for. Law school, working at the firm—those are the only challenges I’ve ever felt were made for me. And the only things I haven’t screwed up yet. If I can’t do what I want to do, I don’t know what will happen, Freddy. I might … finally, truly lose it.”

  We watch another cat stroll up to the edge of the water. This one dips a six-toed paw in, shakes it delicately and licks off a few drops of water. “You need to let Will go,” Freddy says.

  I stare at her in disbelief. “And let his mom win? But she’s a bully!”

  “This isn’t a contest, Lily. It’s your life.”

  “It’s a contest and my life. I won’t let him go.”

  “But you have so many doubts already, and—”

  I shake my head firmly. “Not anymore. I’m fully committed.”

  “Because you finally have some real opposition,” she says.

  “Be on my side, Freddy. Please.”

  “I am. You know I am. But no lie, my friend. You are in one serious motherfucking pickle.”

  This makes me laugh, finally. There’s a sudden commotion inside the gift shop, and someone comes flapping toward us.

  “Donna!” Freddy cries. “Join us, girlfriend! The water’s amazing!” Instead, she kicks us out. Freddy and I walk back to the hotel. She takes my arm. “I have to say, this feels like the key to all mysteries.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  She shrugs. “It’s no wonder you have such a hard time telling Will the truth. Look what happened the last time you were honest with a boy about sex.”

  “It happened,” I say. “And it was terrible. And I think about it every single day. But it didn’t change me, Freddy. Look at what I was like before. Look at my dad. I was always going to be like this.”

  We walk through the lobby, heading for the elevators, but then I stop. “Do you really want to cheer me up? Let’s go have a long, boozy lunch.”

  “We can’t,” Freddy says. “Your mothers are waiting upstairs to watch you try on your wedding dress.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Surprise?” she says.

  I drop my head onto her shoulder.

  Upstairs, I slip the key into the lock. “Game face,” Freddy whispers. I open the door.

  “Surprise!” Mom, Ana, Jane and Gran are lounging around the room, picking at a bowl of fruit like a bunch of dissipated empresses.

  “Ladies!” I cry. “Wow!”

  I think it’s going to be hell, but it isn’t. Whether by agreement or chance, nobody starts nagging me about how I shouldn’t marry Will. They’ve probably given up and accepted the inevitable, at the very moment when it’s all become so very … evitable.

  Right now they’re deep in the middle of their own gossip battle royale.

  “Tell me,” Ana is saying. “Just tel
l me his name.”

  “I’m not seeing anybody!” Mom cries.

  “You’re blushing, Kat.” Jane peels an orange with her long, delicate fingers. “You couldn’t deceive a child.”

  Freddy removes a garment bag from the closet. I pull my dress over my head. She hands me a blindfold.

  “Seriously?”

  I’ve never seen my wedding gown. Not a sketch, not a scrap of fabric.

  “Last time,” she promises. “I want it to be perfect before you see it.”

  I put on the blindfold. I hear Freddy unzip the bag.

  “You’re glowing,” Ana accuses Mom. “You’re nuclear.”

  “I’m not glowing!”

  “You can’t lie to me. I’m too perceptive. It’s my Latina intuition.” Gran snorts. “You’re about as Latina as the girl on the raisin box.” There’s a swish of silk as Freddy removes the dress. Everyone falls silent.

  “Jesus H. Christ,” Gran says.

  “My goodness,” Mom whispers.

  Ana laughs. “Freddy, you’ve got some balls.”

  “Shh!” Freddy tells them. To me: “You’re going to step into it. Hand on my shoulder.” She pulls the dress up around me, slipping the sleeves up my arms.

  “You’re the one who looks fabulous, Ana,” Jane observes. “You’ve gained a little weight since the fall.”

  “Aha!” Mom cries. “You only eat when you’re happy. Who is he?”

  I hear a knock, and someone opens the door. “Mattie!” Mom says. “Come in! Freddy is showing us the dress.”

  Freddy buttons, prods, stretches and straightens. I pluck at the skirt. The fabric is so soft I almost can’t feel it. She bats my hand away. Then she tugs at the neckline. “Where did your boobs go?”

  “I loaned them to Gregory Hemingway.”

  Gran chuckles. “Did a little sightseeing this morning?”

  “We have the walk-through at the Audubon House tomorrow,” Mattie is saying. “I’m very worried about the structural integrity of the porch. I heard on the news this morning about a wedding where the dance floor collapsed, and eleven people died!”