I heard back from Ohio State and Miami first, both with full rides on sports scholarship. I was ecstatic. I was more than ecstatic—I breathed a sigh of relief because, no matter what happened after that, I didn’t have to figure out how to pay for school and I could play ball. I decided that if I didn’t get in anywhere else, I would accept Ohio State’s offer since they ranked higher than Miami.
It softened the blow when Oklahoma rejected me, which wasn’t surprising because they’re number one and, even if you’re the best of the best, there’s always going to be someone better than you. But when I checked my email on April 2nd and clicked on a message from UCLA, everything changed.
I realized my entire life was about to change, and it made me think about everything that had happened just in the past few months. I’m going to leave Canaan, but there are some things I can’t leave as they are. There are a lot of things I need to make right with people just in case I don’t see them again. Like Sydney…
Just like Jay’s knee will never feel the same, she can’t even look at herself in the mirror without being reminded of what happened—and it’s all my fault. I pull out my phone and start typing a text.
ME (7:55PM): Sydney—I’m so sorry for everything. If I could go back, I would’ve done so many things differently. I never would’ve invited you to go with us on Halloween, not because I don’t want to be your friend, but because maybe you never would’ve met Jay. I know I can’t apologize for other people, but I wish I could. When I found out what Hildy did to you, I told her how wrong it was. I even threatened to go to Jay’s dad and tell him she’s the one who did it, but maybe that would just make everything worse for you. I’m just so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. In many ways, you’ve been a better friend to me than anyone else and I haven’t been the same to you. You don’t have to forgive me, but I want to tell you some things and get them off my chest before we graduate and go off to school. I hope we see each other again, maybe in a different city somewhere far away, where we can start over and leave all of this behind.
I keep typing, letting everything spill out onto my phone screen, and I don’t look up again until Bo pops up on the far ledge, ending his run. He drops his board on the concrete and pushes off, heading away from us.
Hannah catches my eye and gives a subtle glance over my shoulder. There’s a tug on the end of my braided ponytail, and when I look over my shoulder, Bo sits down on the edge of the wall behind me. He sets his backpack down and turns halfway around to face me.
“You came,” he smiles, nudging the back of my shoulder with his.
Something brushes against my hand and I glance down in time to see him hook his pinky through mine, quick enough for no one else to notice. Just then, my phone buzzes with a text.
RAGGEDY ANDY (8:04PM): want me to pick you up later?
I still laugh at his name in my phone. That was our Halloween costume two years ago—Raggedy Ann and Andy. I changed it and never switched it back. He knows I’m at the skate park, so there’s a chance he might show up here, too. But I know what he’s trying to do, and I don’t usually mind, but now it’s getting to be too much. He can’t be here tonight.
Especially tonight.
“Hey,” I murmur, making Bowen lean in, “I need to talk to you sometime tonight.”
He nods, “Yeah, I need to talk to you, too.”
We lock eyes and just look at each other, not speaking, until Bo finally cracks a smile. I grin and look away, gazing back across the skate park. It’s like a beehive and all the drones have come out to play as soon as the night lights came on. Bo slides his fingers up the inside of my arm, sending a wave of electricity through my stomach as he strokes my skin.
My phone buzzes with another text.
RAGGEDY ANDY (8:05PM): fuck that. tell me where u are and i’ll wait for u
I shouldn’t have looked at it. I’m not going to answer. At least, not yet. I need to talk to Bo first. There are a lot of things he needs to know.
And I need to tell him while I still can.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The Hollow Watcher
One Year Ago
After keeping my eye on Brett for a while, it becomes clear that I’m not the only admirer she has. And admirers come in all forms—including jealous ones. I’ve seen Hannah Bailey go into that house far too many times when no one is home to let her get away with it. So, one lovely spring evening, I decide to pay her a visit.
For some reason, she’s late getting home today, so I have to wait.
Typical.
I play with her cat and eat the last of her chocolate covered pretzels as I watch for her car from the sliding glass door. And when I finally see her silver SUV pull into the spot out front, I stroll back to her bedroom and settle myself against the wall next to her bed to wait…again.
Hannah’s so thrilled to be home, she bursts through the bedroom door singing some broken rendition of Dua Lipa and starts rummaging through her dresser for a change of clothes. Then she turns on the bathroom light and starts peeling off her scrubs.
I stare at her from the shadows, scrunching my face in disdain as she goes. Her body’s nice enough, but pure, unadulterated loathing makes everything look bad. At least she’s quick, pulling on a pair of black sweatpants and a yellow tank top before turning to the mirror and pulling her hair back into a high ponytail.
What I should do is cut it off...
Instead, I watch her, simultaneously shocked and impressed that she can have so little situational awareness. By the time she finishes in the bathroom, I’ve been watching her in silence for a good five minutes. But when she steps back into the bedroom and reaches for the lamp on the dresser, she’s met with the shock of her life.
When the yellowish glow floods the room and Hannah sees me standing opposite her, dressed in all black, with my hood shadowing my face, her soul all but leaves her body.
She lets out a shrill scream and flies backward into her bookshelf with a crash. Arms and legs flailing, she continues screaming, tumbling onto the floor behind the bed. All I can see are hands and feet popping up and down like goddamn puppets while she tries to scramble upright.
It takes all I have not to laugh my ass off.
But I remember why I’m here, and that’s no laughing matter.
I let Hannah flail around on the floor a bit longer, crashing into the nightstand and slamming more limbs against the bookshelf, until she’s finally able to stand and brace herself against the wall between the dresser and the bathroom door.
Seconds away from hyperventilating, she stares at me across the room and I see the exact moment in her eyes when she recognizes me.
But she’s not relieved.
“H—how’d you get in here?” her voice shakes with panic.
I can’t help but smile at her, “Didn’t you hear? I make house calls now.”
She stares at me as though she’s seen a ghost, “Why are you here?” she whispers, the utter dread in her voice giving me a deep satisfaction.
