The rain falls down in sheets, and I pick the crusted mud off my jeans as the Jeep bumps along the road leaving town. I felt a little bad lying to Veronica about feeling sick on the way to school. She gave me a hug, promised to take good notes for me today, and even thanked Jack for driving me around to the front of the school to ‘drop me off close to the nurse’s office’ like we said.

“Do you know how to get there?” I lean back in the seat, and the guilt starts to wear off the farther we get from the school.

“To Greendale, yes. But not to the nursing home. We can use the GPS.”

“I’ll enter the address.”

“You’ve been there before?” Jack looks away from the road for a minute.

“Only once. It’s far from L.A., and my grandma was in the hospital for a while before they moved her.”

“Why Greendale?”

“It’s where we’re from. And the nice nursing homes in L.A. are crazy expensive. It was always her plan to retire and move back to Greendale. She had everything planned out, thankfully. The nursing home, who’d be her power of attorney until I could take over. We thought we’d have more time.”

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and I can tell he wants to ask me something but doesn’t want to offend me. “What?” I ask him.

He looks at me again, and for the split second our eyes meet, my heart flutters. “Nothing.”

“Really?” I lean over and unzip my boots. I tried to get most of the mud off before I got into the Jeep. Jack didn’t say a thing, and I don’t think he would, but I take him as the kind of guy who likes his car clean.

“What happened to your grandma? If your mom would only be thirty-three, your grandma is probably in her sixties or something, right?”

“Right. She’s sixty-five. Not very old at all.” I focus on the little raindrops on the window, fighting to stay in place despite the harsh wind. “She had a stroke. It was totally out of the blue. It happened when I was at school, and by the time I got home and found her, part of her brain was without oxygen long enough to do damage. She couldn’t walk or talk after that. The doctors couldn’t give a straight answer about how aware she is. They don’t think she knows what’s going on, but they can’t be sure.”

I take in a slow breath and press my fingers into the seat. I widen my eyes and watch a raindrop take a zig-zagging path down the window. I don’t want to think about that day too hard.

“You found her?” Jack’s face pales.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.” He takes one hand off the steering wheel and tentatively puts it on my thigh. His palm is warm, and I look down, noticing how his big hand covers my leg. Jack is tall and solidly built. I’ve seen him jogging on the weekends with his dad. Usually without his shirt on.

Pretty much everyone back at my old school was into fitness. Taking steroids or supplements wasn’t uncommon for the male population. It only took one look at Jack to know his muscle was built from hard work, from sweat and pain and pushing through it.

I put my hand on top of his, ignoring the little pulses of warmth that make their way through me, gathering between my thighs.

“Still tired?” Jack asks when I yawn.

“Yeah. Things are weird at the house.”

“Bad weird?”

I shake my head. “No. The Kellers are good people. It’s just…it’s not home. They’re strangers and we were thrown together in the middle of a really shitty situation. I think I hurt Stephanie’s feelings by not opening up. I might have been a little snippy last night and feel bad for snapping at her. She’s just trying to help.” I let out a sigh. “It’s so frustrating here on top of everything else.”

The heartache radiating through me hurts. I swallow the pain, squeezing my eyes shut to keep myself from crying. Breaking down doesn’t solve anything.

“Do you have your iPod with you?” Jack takes his hand off my thigh.

“I always do.”

“Plug it in and then try to get some rest. We have an hour and a half until we get into Greendale.” The Jeep slows to a stop and Jack takes off his Letterman jacket. His jacket is warm from his body and brings me instant comfort as I pull it around me. I turn my iPod to shuffle and lean back in the seat, eyes set on Jack for a moment before closing.

The last ten years of my life have been carefully calculated and planned. I had one goal set in front of me and everything I did was to achieve that. Study hard. Fill my spare time with volunteering and extracurriculars. Check off books on the reading list. Meet with professors. Come along with Mimi when she had clients who had clout in the academic ring. Maintain a perfect GPA. Score high on the ACTs and SATs.

I never felt like I had a purpose other than to get into Berkeley. But looking at Jack, I realize there is so much more to life.

* * *

“Nora.” Jack’s hand lands on my thigh again. My eyes flutter open. We drove nearly two hours south, and the sun is shining brightly behind big white puffy clouds. “We’re here. Well, kind of. We’re at a gas station across the street from Meadow Haven.”

I run my hands over my face. “Why do nursing homes have such lame names?”

“Good question,” he replies with a smile. “I’m gonna fill up.”

“And I’m going to go inside and fix my hair.”

I hurry inside, use the bathroom, finger-comb my hair, and do my best to clean the mud off my boots with damp paper towels. Using the little cash Stephanie gave me—for emergencies, but what is ten bucks gonna get me?—I buy two drinks and some candy from the gas station.

“Thirsty?” I hold up the cups. “I got Pepsi and Coke because I wasn’t sure which one you prefer.”

Jack puts the nozzle back in the pump. “I don’t care. I like both.”

“Good.” I smile and offer him a cup. “Because I’m not sure which is which anymore.”

We get back in the Jeep, take a minute to tear into the candy, then drive across the street. Jack parks, kills the engine and starts to get out.

“Nora?” he asks, seeing that I haven’t moved. “You okay?”

I shake my head. “I haven’t seen her in three weeks. What if she—”

“They would have let you know,” he says gently. “You can do this.”

My jaw starts to tremble, and I work hard to blink back tears. “Yeah.”

Jack gets out of the Jeep and comes around, opening my door and offering a hand. I unbuckle, grab my purse, and take his hand. Warm sun shines down on us, lighting the dark features on Jack’s handsome face. He gives my hand a squeeze and doesn’t let go as we walk into the nursing home.

The smell hits me as soon as we step through the door and into the lobby. Scented candles cover up the smell of bleach, which isn’t all that bad, considering. A large birdcage filled with colorful finches sits next to the front desk. An older lady who looks like she could be a resident herself greets us with a smile.

“Hello, dear. Are you here for a visit?”

“Yes,” I start, voice coming out weak. “Yes,” I repeat. “My grandma. Eleanor Fisher.”

“Let me call the nurse and find out where she is.”

“Thanks.”

Jack and I walk over to the birdcage. “Are you named after your grandma?”

“Yes, but my last name wasn’t the same until she adopted me. It used to be Diaz. It was easier to have the same last name as her, so she changed it.”

A few minutes tick by before the nurse comes. I recognize her from the last time I was here.

“Hi. Nora, right?” She gets a bottle of hand sanitizer out of her scrub pocket and squirts some on her hands.

“Yeah.”

“Your grandma is in the sunroom listening to music. I’ll take you back.” She vigorously rubs her hands together as she walks. I judge everything as we walk through the building. Does it smell? Are the people taken care of? Are they even aware of what’s going on?

The lemon-scented cleaning products mixed with bleach is the most obvious smell, which I’m taking to mean they keep this place clean.

“Ms. Eleanor, you have a visitor.”

At the nurse’s words, tears start to fall. Am I the only one who’s come to see her? She’s hours away from L.A., from her friends and co-workers. My grandma is sitting in her wheelchair next to a large window. Oldies music softly drifts from speakers on both sides of the room, and a few other residents sit in the sunroom with her. Two are chatting, and another is drooling in a corner, staring off into space.

“Hey, Mimi,” I whisper, pulling my hand out of Jack’s to wipe away tears. My grandma turns, following the sound of my voice. Her vivid green eyes appear to have faded, and she’s lost at least ten pounds. “It’s me, Nora.”

My grandma reaches for me, and my heart breaks. I go to her, wrap my arms around her neck, and start sobbing. My grandma’s hand lands on my back, and I’m not sure if she’s trying to comfort me or not.

“Would you like to go back to her room?” the nurse asks.

“No.” I lean back, not caring that everyone can see the tears running down my cheeks. “She always liked the sun.”

“Okay. I’ll come back and see how you all are doing in a while then. Feel free to pull up a chair.”

The nurse leaves and Jack comes over, resting his hand on the small of my back. I lean into him, and he pulls me into a tight embrace. I didn’t realize how much I needed his comfort until right now. My body shudders as I try to suppress a sob. Jack holds me, patiently waiting until I’m able to let go.

Using my sleeve to dry my eyes, I take his hand and bring him over to my grandma.

“Mimi,” I start. “This is my friend, Jack. He’s really nice and brought me to come see you. We skipped school. I know what you’d say about that, but I also know you’d tell me I’m only young once and deserve a break every once in a while. I’m taking one now, so I’ll be good for the rest of the year.”

My grandma’s eyes flit from me to Jack, and I wonder how much of her is in there. Part of me wishes she’s all there, able to listen to me and know that I still love her. But another part knows how awful it would be to be trapped inside your own body.

“He’s my neighbor,” I go on. “And his sister is my friend…I guess. I don’t really feel like I have any friends.” I feel Jack’s eyes on me, but for some reason, it doesn’t stop me. I’m talking to my grandma like usual, telling her almost everything going on in my life. “The people I’m staying with are nice too. They’re good people and want to help. It’s not home though, and I miss my bed and my room and our Sunday night dinners at the plaza.” I take my grandma’s hand. Her skin is cold and clammy. “Everything is taken care of. Mr. Cooper’s a bit of a creep, but he’s a good lawyer. You have nothing to worry about.”

Jack brings over two chairs and sits by me while I talk to my grandma.

“There are mountains,” I go on. “And a lake. The whole town looks like something on a postcard. We even get snow in the winter. It’s pretty, but it’s not home.” A stab of pain gets me, and it’s like my chest cracked open. I can’t contain my tears any longer. “I’m so sorry, Mimi,” I sob. “If I had come home sooner or called to check on you… I’m sorry.” I fall forward, face in my hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Mimi feebly reaches forward, fingers swiping across the back of my hand. I look up as she takes my hand, eyes meeting hers. She gives me a shaky nod, then shifts her gaze to Jack. She extends her other hand to him. He bristles but holds out his arm. Mimi brings his hand to mine, putting it on top.

She tries to say something, but all that comes out is incoherent gibberish. I close my eyes and look away, not able to handle it.

“Yes,” Jack says, and I turn, thinking he’s talking to me. “I’ll take care of her.”

He’s talking to Mimi, and she’s holding up her hand, pointing at Jack and then me. He squeezes my hand and shifts back in his seat.

We stay through lunch, leaving only when the nurse says it’s time to let my grandma lay down and rest. I give her a hug goodbye and promise to come back.

“We will come back,” Jack says, talking to both my grandma and me. “I’ll take you here whenever you want, Nora. I promise.”

I hug Mimi one more time and then leave. Bright sunlight pours down on us. I spent the first six years of my life in Greendale and don’t remember much other than the road to the graveyard and the Mexican restaurant my parents liked so much. Mimi and I would go there for tacos after visiting the graves.

“Jack,” I say once we’re back in the Jeep. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He pushes my hair back, and his hand drops to my shoulder. I soak up as much warmth from his skin as I could. “I know. But I did.”

* * *

“Were you born in Greendale?” Jack dips a chip in salsa.

“Yeah. I lived here until my parents died, then I went to L.A. to live with my grandma.”

“Your dad’s from here too, right?”

“Right. I think his parents still live here.”

Jack’s hand freezes in midair, chip inches from his mouth. “What?”

“My other grandparents still live here. Maybe.”

He lowers the chip, brown eyes filling with concern and confusion. “Then why—” He cuts off when the waitress comes back to take our order.

“They hate me,” I explain after the waitress leaves. “They’re super religious. I was born out of wedlock and not baptized, so I’m pretty much Rosemary’s baby. Doesn’t help that my birthday is on Halloween.”

Jack blinks. “Are you being serious?”

“I wish I weren’t. They won’t talk to me. The last time I saw them was the funeral. They blamed me for my dad’s death and yelled at me in Spanish the whole time. My dad spoke Spanish to me a lot at home, so I understood most of what they were saying.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Tell me about it. So even if they offered to take me in, I’d rather be on the streets than with them.”

“I don’t blame you. Wait, your birthday is really on Halloween? That’s not far away.”

“Don’t say anything to your sister. I don’t want to celebrate.”

I expect Jack to object and say I need to do something to celebrate. Instead, he nods. “I won’t. Halloween isn’t that big here, but people use it as an excuse to party. Just wait until Christmas.” He rolls his eyes. “The town goes crazy. There are contests and everything. The decorations will start going up soon.”

“I love Halloween. I meant it when I said I loved creepy things. I have a morbid fascination with ghosts and spirits.”

“Ghosts?” Amusement plays on his face, lighting up his eyes.

“What? You don’t believe?”

“No, and you’ll need hard proof to convince me.”

I pick up another chip, dip it in the salsa and take a bite. “There’s a surprising number of haunted places in L.A.,” I say when I’m done chewing. “I’ve seen some unexplainable stuff.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t special effects?”

“Positive. My grandma was really into paranormal stuff too. That’s actually how she got started in interior design.”

“How are the two connected in any way?”

“She used to feng shui people’s houses. You know, get the positive energy flowing and deflect the negative crap.”

Jack half smiles, raising his eyebrows. “Only in L.A. Do you believe in that stuff too?”

“To an extent, but I don’t believe in luck. You make your own luck, and no amount of crystals or precariously positioned mirrors can stop bad things from happening.”

“I agree.”

“So, there are no infamous hauntings around Dale Hollow?”

“There’s an abandoned cabin in the woods a few miles from the lake that is supposedly haunted. People came up the mountain looking for gold and starved to death. Nothing too interesting. And they never found gold.”

“Have you ever been there?”

“To the cabin? Yeah. Though there are a few cabins along the lake and up the side of the mountain. None of them look to be from the early 1900s, if you ask me.”

“Where’s your sense of imagination?” I tease.

“Buried under logic.”

“That’s no fun.”

He chuckles. “Fine. Show me a ghost, and I’ll believe you. You seem good at ditching school, maybe you can try sneaking out at night and we can go to that cabin.”

“Just to clarify,” I start, feeling the heat rising inside me again. “Are we going to the cabin in the middle of the night to look for ghosts?”

I think the same heat hits Jack. Our food comes at that moment, saving him from answering. Talking to Jack is so easy. I’m fighting my attraction to him, but it’s like chatting with an old friend. I feel comfortable around him. We talk about nothing in particular as we eat, stealing glances at each other, diverting our eyes as soon as the other notices.

The waitress brings us the bill, then stares at Jack for a few seconds. “Sorry,” she says. “But you look so familiar. I just can’t place you.” Her eyes go to his jacket. “You’re from Dale Hollow?”

Jack’s brown eyes widen and his face pales. “Yeah,” he says gruffly and takes the bill, averting his eyes.

The waitress shakes her head. “It’s like it’s right here.” She taps her forehead. “But I can’t remember. Jack,” she says quietly, reading his name. “I know I know you,” she mutters and walks away.

“Did you hook up with the waitress?” I joke. “She’s a bit of a cougar, but still good looking. Though I thought you swung on the other side of the age spectrum.”

Jack balls his fists. “It’s not fucking funny.”

I slink back. “I didn’t mean it like that…that me and you…that w-we.” Blood rushes to my cheeks. “Sorry.”

Jack’s fists are still clenched and he’s staring at the center of the table. An awkward minute passes.

“You’re Jack Harrington, aren’t you?” The waitress comes back over, but she’s not alone. The manager is with her, and they’re both looking at Jack in awe. “You’re the guy who stopped a mass school shooting.”