Ezra has the kind of hair that always looks tussled on top, like he’s some kind of boy band member and his hair is in a perpetual state of brooding. He leans over the massive steering wheel and runs a hand through it, curling his fingers into a fist at the top of his head. The result is a more tussled, slightly sexier hairstyle. He looks over at me and sighs. “Which one of us has to break the bad news?”

Big Al’s Used Cars is a narrow white building with red trim. I’m ninety-nine percent sure it used to be an old Sonic fast food restaurant. The slanted parking lot where people used to order their food at the drive in is now a showcase of cheap used cars with their prices written on the windshield in hot pink paint. BUY HERE PAY HERE the sign says, big and prominent in the center of the building.

Below it, written in Sharpie on a piece of cardboard and taped to the door, as if an afterthought:

CLOSED MONDAY AND TUESDAY

Today is Tuesday.

“I’m guessing the website didn’t have this pertinent information,” I say, climbing out of my seat. As much as I’d like to bury my head between my knees and wish to be transported back home, I know I can’t. “I’ll tell her.”

Everything is so much quieter when the motor isn’t running. Each step I take creaks as I make my way through the narrow hallway. “Cece?” I say, pushing back the curtain. She’s asleep, curled up in the fetal position with that crocheted blanket pulled up to her chin. Carefully, I sit on the edge of bed and put a hand on her shoulder. “Cece? Wake up.”

Her eyes flutter open. She looks in my general direction, but her thoughts are elsewhere. “I have some bad news,” I say, delivering the words as softly as possible.

“Did we break down?” she asks.

“No.”

She sits up, shoving the blanket off her legs. “We’re here?”

“Yeah, but… they’re closed today.”

She seems to consider this for half a second and then she stands up and stretches her arms. “That’s not life-shattering, Lilah. Chill.”

She pushes past me and leans over the kitchen table to see outside. There are about thirty cars in the parking lot, but none of them belong to an employee. “You know, this is for the best,” she says, pulling the hair tie out of her braid. She runs her fingers through it and then secures her hair into a tight bun at the base of her neck. “Now we can get the information we need and not worry about anyone calling Thomas and telling him we’re looking for him.”

Ezra joins us in the tiny bedroom area. He’s only a few inches taller than I am, but he fills the room with his presence. He looks like a guy with a plan. “We’ll stay overnight and come back tomorrow. There are places to camp in an RV. It won’t be a problem.”

Only that’s not exactly the plan I’d like to hear.

“I’m not wasting another day,” Cece says. She reaches under the table and pulls out her backpack. “We’ll get the information we need right now.”

I cross my arms. “And how exactly are you going to do that? You got a lock picking set in there?”

With a coy smirk, she unzips her backpack. “I’ve got something better than that,” she says, pulling out a freaking crowbar.

“Whoa.” I take a step back. “We are not breaking and entering, Cece. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we’ll do Ezra’s idea. We’ll stay overnight.”

“That’s a waste of time,” she says, tapping the end of the crowbar into her palm. “This way is easier.”

She advances toward the door. Ezra steps in front of her path. “Give me the crowbar.”

Her brows jerk together and she scrunches up her face. “Get out of my way.”

“Crowbar,” he says, squaring his shoulders. He holds out his hand. “Now.”

She stiffens, her nostrils flaring. “Move over. I’ll do it myself.”

He doesn’t budge. “Sales records are kept on computers, computers with passwords that you don’t know. Your only chance of getting the information you want is by sweet talking the person who works here. I won’t let you break in. This is a business, Cece. It’ll have security cameras with your face on it. They’ll give the cops my license plate. How the hell will you feel when Lilah has to find Thomas by herself because the both of us are in jail?”

Exhaling sharply, she drops the crowbar into his outstretched hand. He turns and puts it inside an overhead bin, then twists the lock and pockets the key. “We’ll come back tomorrow morning.”

Cece’s eyes fill with rage. “I’ll see you assholes in twenty-four hours.” Turning, she goes back to the bed and tugs the curtain back into place, hiding herself from the rest of the world.

I drop into the bench seat at the table. The Formica countertop chills my forearms. “That went well,” I mutter as I stare at my nail polish.

 

 

There’s a state park just twenty minutes outside of town and they have RV hookups and camping spots. Because Ezra is a state employee, we get to stay for free. Ezra hooks up the electricity, water, and sewer and we turn on the television to watch some DVDs. Staying overnight was definitely not in the plans, but since everything has gone wrong so far, it’s nice to be able to park here instead of at the back of a Walmart parking lot. I’m still freaked out by the whole situation, but being here in the woods with fellow campers and park rangers and stuff makes me feel moderately okay about this unexpected trip detour. If only we weren’t on a futile mission to find a dead person, it might even be fun.

While Cece is asleep, Ezra folds down the kitchen table and props himself on the bench seat, lazily watching TV. He doesn’t talk much and I can’t seem to find anything to say. I wish we were friends. I’ve noticed he doesn’t check his cell phone very often. I wonder if his girlfriend knows what he’s doing. If she’s going to call him to say good night later on.

I wish I could stop thinking about how cute he is and focus on how he can be annoying. Only, now that we’re all grown up, he’s not exactly annoying at all. My number one priority is still taking care of Cece, and she hasn’t woken up since she fell sleep this morning. Ezra falls asleep too, his long legs blocking the hallway while he uses his elbow as a pillow.

Eventually, I also succumb to the exhaustion of waking up so early and spending all these hours on the road. When I wake up, my phone is ringing. It’s buried in the outer pocket of my backpack which is on the floorboard in the passenger seat. By the time I get to it, I’ve missed the call. Mom immediately calls back.

I take a calming breath before I answer. “Hello?”

“Jesus, Lilah, you had me scared to death! Answer the phone the first time I call you.”

“Sorry, Mom. I was napping.” The yawn that escapes me isn’t even faked. I pull back the phone to check the time. It’s five—and dinner time according to my rumbling stomach.

“How’s everything going?”

“Fine,” I say. And it’s not really a lie. No one has lost a limb or came down with the flu.

“And Cece?”

“She’s sleeping, too.”

“Did you girls stay up late?”

“Something like that,” I say. Ezra adjusts his position on the bench seat, his sleepy eyes looking in my direction. I press a finger to my lips, signaling for him to stay quiet.

“I’m glad to see you girls getting along,” Mom says, her voice softer. “You never seem to hang out anymore.”

Ah, irony. “We’re hanging out now.”

“Just make sure she doesn’t sleep too long, okay? Too much sleep always sends Cece into a depression.”

I stare at the closed curtain at the back of the RV. “But that hasn’t happened in a while, right? I mean, she’s been pretty good for months now.”

“Oh honey, it happens all the time,” Mom says, sounding somewhat offended. “I guess you’re just never here to see it. I almost took her into the doctor two weeks ago when she wouldn’t leave her bed for three days in a row. Promising to take her back to her parent’s house was the only thing that got her spirits up again.”

I stare at the peeling duct tape on the dash while everything around me blurs. “Seriously?” My voice is faint, like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mom says. “Just keep her occupied and don’t let her sleep too long, okay? I gotta go. Dad just found us a table at the hotel restaurant. Love you.”

Ezra sits up, fixing me with a concerned look. “What’s going on?”

I try to swallow but my throat is too dry. “Cece’s been depressed more than I realized. We can’t let her sleep any longer. Apparently, that’s how it starts.”

“Wake her up,” he says, standing and shaking out the wrinkles in his jeans. “I’ll look up places to eat around here and we can go get dinner.”

I nod, but I don’t really hear the words he’s saying. My worst fears are manifesting in my chest as I make my way back there, and pull open the curtain, afraid of what I’ll find. Cece’s lying on her side, her eyes open, staring blankly at the wall.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” I say, probably a little too cheerfully but I’m too panicked to moderate my tone right now. “We’re about to get dinner. Got any suggestions?”

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even blink. I lean over and pull back the tiny curtain that covers the small window at the back of the RV. Sunlight pours into the small bedroom. “Cece?” I say, sitting next to her. “I’m starving. What do we want to eat?”

Her eyes slowly travel toward me, but there’s no recognition in her gaze. “Burgers?” It feels like there’s cotton balls in my mouth but I’m doing my best to stay calm. “Pizza? Mexican? I could go for anything.”

She looks away. The only movement is the steady rise and fall of her chest. I haven’t seen her like this in so long. We were preteens the last time she was stuck in bed and I sat next to her, bouncing up and down and poking her in the arm in an attempt to liven her up. It didn’t work back then and it’s not working now. Has she really been going through days like this while I’ve been living under the same roof? Have I been that oblivious to my cousin’s condition?

I remember our family therapist describing the lows of manic depression. She said it’s not like how normal people consider themselves depressed and sad. True depression removes all feelings and leaves someone with only numbness. I lean over and take Cece’s hand, pulling it into my lap. She doesn’t resist, but she doesn’t look at me either.

“Hey, are you okay? You want to talk about anything?”

Part of me knows she won’t answer, but I keep trying. As much as I dislike hyperactive Cece, this is worse. So much worse. “Cece, I know I haven’t been there for you much lately,” I say, squeezing her hand in mine. “But I’m here now. Whatever you need, I’m here, okay?”

That stomach tightening scent of Ezra’s shampoo fills the air and I see him approach, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. I lean forward and brush the hair out of Cece’s eyes. Her gaze is unfocused, unblinking, as she stares at the wall. “You want to go back and break into that car dealership?” I wiggle my eyebrows. “We’ll wear ski masks and they’ll never catch us.”

No response.

I glance back at Ezra. His eyes, formerly cute and carefree about this trip, have been transformed as he watches the scene in front of him. Now when I look at him, all I see is fear. For once since he came back into our lives, we’re on the same page.