“Tell me what I did to her.” His voice bounced around the room as he grabbed me harder and gave me a shake, his eyes wild. He looked dangerous and powerful, the way I’d felt when I hit Lily with the driftwood, and right then I didn’t think I could ever love him more. He was ready for the truth. If I told him now, he’d understand everything about us, and he’d realize why we had to be together. And so I opened my mouth, and began to speak.

34

MAYA

The day Celine went missing was a perfect storm of circumstance. Over the past months she and Ash had spent every day together. They sat on the bus on the way to and from school, her head always resting on his shoulder, his hand on her thigh, their fingers entwined. After dinner, and every weekend, he’d leave the house. Neither Mom, Brad nor I bothered asking where he was going anymore, we all knew, and consequently I spent my days and evenings alone.

Since my notebook had fallen out of my backpack on the bus, and been passed around, the whispers and taunts had intensified. Rude notes with gross drawings had made their way into my locker. Pictures of a naked boy having sex with a naked, dark-haired girl, images of what were supposed to be me, with a penis in my mouth or my butt, the word BROTHERFUCKER scrawled underneath. I ignored them at first and threw them in the trash, but they kept appearing.

I didn’t tell Ash then, was too embarrassed to show him what people thought I wanted to do with him. They were wrong. I loved Ash and longed to be close to him, yes, but not in that way. Not until we were older and had a place of our own. I imagined a house and two children, a dog and a cat, maybe some fish. He’d have his own business, I’d be a famous artist and we’d be deliriously happy, exactly like Brad and Mom were. They’d come over with gifts for the kids at Christmas, Thanksgiving and for birthdays. We’d take trips together in the summer. We’d be a perfect family.

If I showed Ash the disgusting drawings, he’d never give me the future I wanted, and so I said nothing, and sulked whenever he wasn’t at home. When I’d tried talking to Mom about how often he was out, she’d brushed me off.