I look away, my eyes stinging now, from either the beauty or the misery. I wipe them and watch a small family taking pictures. The mother holds up the little girl while the father takes the pic; they switch, then take a selfie of the three of them. The girl starts to wriggle, and they put her down and move away.

“Whatever. It doesn’t even matter. I don’t even know if she hangs out with them anymore, so who cares. There are worse people.”

“Okay, suit yourself.” Dee leans into her cupped hands and lights a cigarette. She stares out over the fence at the falls. “I mean, one of the ‘worse people’ is definitely Aidan …” She looks at me, and I stare ahead.

“No,” I say, firmly, quietly.

“Why?” she asks, throwing up her hands in exasperation.

Because I’m afraid of him. Because I’m afraid he’ll hurt me again, worse this time.

“I just don’t want to. No, I said. Just leave it.”

Dee rolls her eyes and takes a drag of her cigarette, then passes it to me. I take it, inhaling, and it gives me a dizzy feeling. I close my eyes to the mist of the falls, which spray around us lightly.

A moment passes between us. I think of Lottie and Aidan, and a small shock of fury inside me flares up bright and sharp. Lottie has no idea what my life is like. There was a time that maybe I could have told her what Aidan did, but not now. The feeling of that moment with him is almost palpable again, and I shake my head. It disappears for now.

*   *   *

On our way back to town on the bus, it feels like we’re pulling the cover over something behind us, protecting and preserving where we’ve been. Dee dozes against the window in a seat across the aisle from me. Her body relaxes. I lean against the window in its rattling motion, my eyes open and alert.

Chapter 17

17

My shift is almost over at the Dairy Queen. It’s been quiet. Dee, Antar, Jesse, and Ava are sitting at a corner table, playing cards and sharing fries. I have pulled up a chair and am hanging with them when the door chimes, and Paige walks in with Breanne and three of her other friends, all lip gloss and boobs, people I partied with two short months ago but who hate me now. My heart takes a nose dive and my hand goes to my hair, tucked into a hairnet, in some primal protection instinct. They march up to the counter, and Paige gazes around impatiently, pretty and bored. She sees me, and something passes for a second between us. We were almost friends, I think. Things could have gone differently.

“Um, hello?” she chirps at me. Breanne says something I don’t catch. They cackle together like witches.