I showered and then stayed in my room. I crouched on the floor with my knees to my chin and cried as they fought downstairs. Their voices came up the walls and into my room. I couldn’t hear most of it. Phrases and words. The sun set and the room went dark. My throat was dry and my eyes throbbed.

Harper knocked and peeked around the door, letting in a shaft of light. “Hi.” She stepped all the way in. “I came to say good night.”

“Good night.”

“What are they fighting about?”

“Me.”

She sat on the bed, folding her nightgown between her knees. “Did you do something?”

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“I can’t say.”

“Okay.” She extended the last bit of the word as a launching pad into a run-on sentence. “Because I know you know everything, but it really sounds like they’re mad at each other when she’s calling him things I can’t repeat and he’s like—‘well, after what you did, you have no business blah blah’ and she’s like ‘your forgiveness is worse than revenge,’ so there’s that.”

I put my head against the wall. “I don’t know what they’re mad about anymore.”

“Yeah. Well. Do you want me to stay in here with you? Keep you company?”

I did. I wanted my sister’s warm body kicking me all night. It would be worth it to prove I wasn’t too filthy to love. But Mom didn’t like when we curled up together, and it wasn’t a good night to displease her.

“I think you’d better not. I’ll be okay.”

She kissed my cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Close the door on the way out, okay?”

She left me in the dark. Exactly where I wanted to be. On the floor, in the dark. When I got tired, I laid my cheek on my knees. I could have gotten into bed, but I didn’t feel worthy of a comfortable pillow and clean sheets.

A cracking noise woke me.

I was on the floor under the window. The arguing downstairs was gone, replaced by crickets and the gurgling of the river. My neck hurt.

Pock. The sound came again.

It was the wall outside. I got up to my knees and looked out.

Pock.

A swoosh of yellow curved across my vision. I followed it down to the boy who caught it.

“Chris!” I didn’t shout. I barely whispered, but his name echoed through me. I opened the window.

“You’re there!” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

I couldn’t see him well. I couldn’t tell if he’d been roughed up or if he was upset. “Are you all right?”

Before he answered, I heard a noise in the hall. The squeak of a floorboard. Then another. I put the window down and jumped into bed, forcing myself to breathe slowly even though my heart was pounding and my lungs demanded more air, faster.

Someone came into the room and closed the door. The moonlight behind my eyes went dark as whomever it was blocked the window. Were they facing me? Or Chris?

I opened one eye.

Daddy stood over me.

“You’re awake,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress tilted from his weight. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” I rolled onto my back and pushed myself up, making an effort to not look at the window. “I’m really sorry about it. Today.”

“Are you?” He smelled freshly showered. His hair was slicked back and his fingernails hadn’t seen a day’s work.

“I wasn’t trying to embarrass you guys.”

He sighed. “Look. Catherine. I want to ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest with me.”

“Okay.”

“Did you consent?”

I swallowed. If I said yes, I was a slut. If I said no, a rapist was waiting under my window. “I did.”

He didn’t seem shocked or scandalized. Didn’t even seem bothered. “Did he hurt you in any way?”

His manner comforted me. Daddy was the kind of guy people liked just because they did, and I was no different than they were. I wanted to be honest. I wanted to please him. Mostly, I wanted to give him the answer that would get him to leave before Chris got impatient and threw things at the window again.

“I think just the normal hurt for the first time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. It’s not like I have a lot of experience. Or him either.”

“It was his first time?”

“Yes.”

Daddy tapped his fingertips together, elbows on his knees, looking between his feet. “I promised you I wouldn’t hurt him.”

I swallowed a lump of fear, going rigid with it rather than leap in front of the window to shield Chris. “You did.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to break that promise.”

The fear went away and was replaced by curiosity.

Daddy turned on the bed until he faced me all the way. “I would have broken it if he’d forced you. I would have poisoned every part of his life. But how can I? You’re old enough. You’re the same age. You both agreed. The only misery here is the misery we’re causing you.”

I must have looked as if I saw Santa coming down the chimney, because that was how I felt. If he was admitting we hadn’t done anything wrong, then he had to let Chris be my boyfriend.

“And,” he continued, putting his hand on my arm as if to steady himself, “and we’re going to continue to make you miserable, but in a different way.”

“What kind of way?”

“The way parents do. We know what’s best for you.”

My heart sank. That last sentence was never spoken before good news.

“Your mother has a point. That boy is not right for you. He’ll bring you nothing but heartache.”

“Dad—”

“Wait. Listen to me. I want things to go smoothly for you in life. We’ve made sure you have an easy time of it. There are a thousand ways you can screw it up and we’re here to point them out. Keep you from doing them. This is one of those ways. I’ve seen enough of the world to know that it’s hard when you don’t stick to your own kind.”

“He is our kind.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry to say he’s not.”

“Daddy, please.”

“Here’s what your mother and I agreed to. We’ve spoken to his mother, and she’s on board as well. You stay away from each other and everything’s going to be all right. But if you don’t, you’ll spend your senior year at St. Thomas School.”

“Where is that?”

“In Austin.”

“What? That’s forever away!”

“And I can’t speak for whether or not he’ll be able to continue to work at the club if you two are caught together again.”

“You’ll get him fired?”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that.” He stood. “I know you hate this. If you knew what your mother wanted to do, you’d be thanking me. Maybe someday you will.”

I didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at him. I just stared at the triangles my bent knees made under the covers. When I was little and Daddy had his knees bent like that, I’d slide down them. I couldn’t believe there had ever been a moment in my life when I wasn’t this mad at him.

He stood there a long time. “Your mother and I are going to switch the rooms around.”

I looked up at him, then at the window. Did he know Chris was downstairs? Had I already ruined everything? I needed to see him. Make sure he was all right.

“Since I work late,” he continued, “we’re taking separate rooms. Maybe you’d like the big suite? It has its own bathroom. I think at your age it’s appropriate.”

“Sure.”

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. I crossed my arms so he didn’t think I wasn’t mad.

“You’ll feel better about it in no time. And you can paint the suite any color you want.”

“Thanks.”

“I love you, Princess.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

My arms were still crossed when he closed the door behind him. After the click, I leapt out of bed and opened the window.

Chris came out of the bushes.

I was about to call down to him. Tell him everything down the height of the house and the space across the front yard, but as he stepped forward, he was drowned in yellow light.

The porch lights. Someone had turned them on.

If he was seen there, it was all over.

He didn’t need to be told. He jumped behind the bushes, and a second later, my father stepped out from under the porch roof, walking toward where Chris hid. I held my breath. I could see his hiding space clearly from the second floor, but had no idea what Daddy could see, or if he’d known all along that Chris was down there.

The porch light snapped off.

My father opened his car door and got in. The headlights bathed the driveway in light, getting smaller and smaller as he headed away from the house and turned onto Dandelion Road.

Chris didn’t come out until the crickets and night birds filled the air with sound again. He was going to call to me and my mother could hear. My parents’ room, the one I was about to paint any color I wanted, was on the other side of the house, but I couldn’t risk getting caught.

I lifted the screen and leaned out. I wanted to say this once and I wanted to be heard. “Wait for me.”

I closed the window before he could answer. I put on a robe and shoes with soft soles. I was sure they looked ridiculous with my nightgown, but I didn’t want to get fully dressed.

If I had on pants and a shirt, I could leave with him right away. We could steal into the night. Never see Barrington again.

Pants. All I needed was a full set of clothing and I’d be ready.

I’d be free.

Without really deciding it, I pulled my nightgown over my head and kicked off the shoes. Jeans. Bra. Clean dark blue T-shirt that would disappear in the dark of night. Socks. Sneakers for running far away.

I stopped before I closed the door.

There was something else.

I stood on a chair to get to the top shelf of the closet to retrieve a shoebox. Inside were photos of Harper and me. A spelling bee medal. An old pearl pin from Grandma. And an envelope. Flipping open the flap, I checked the contents. Seven hundreds, each from Grandpa on my dad’s side. One for each birthday I had before he died. Two twenties earned for the two times I squeaked by with all As. A few singles from the few times I thought I’d put away some money.

Seven hundred forty-nine dollars got stuffed into my back pocket.

I knew where the creaky floorboards were. I tiptoed around them. I had to go past my parents’ suite to get to the stairs, but they usually slept with the door closed. I jumped when I heard a squeak and a breath from the spare room. The door was open halfway.

Someone was in there, and it wasn’t Harper.

Careful.

So careful.

I got past without a complaint from a single floorboard. Now, the suite would appear and I’d have to just be quiet…

But the door was open and the room was empty.

A second parent was somewhere in the house and I was wearing jeans and sneakers as if I was ready to run away. If I’d stayed in my robe, I could have said I was going downstairs to get a glass of water or something.

Okay, well. This was going to be what it was.

I went downstairs, skipping the loose boards. I left through the side door and went to the front, where Chris was. He must have known I was coming that way, because he met me halfway and kissed me before I could get a word in.

“I’ve been going crazy.” He stopped long enough to speak, but not long enough to listen. He was all hunger.

I had to push him away. I put my finger to my lips and pointed up at the guest room window, then at the backyard. We tiptoed to the back like thieves. He led me past the white fence, into the cemetery. Past Hubert and Edith Barrington. Past Timothy Barrington, who built the house in his old age, His young wife, Alice, and his dead child, Frieda. We crouched behind Richard, who had been buried by the river before the house was even built.

Between two rosebushes where it was dark as a cave, Chris and I kneeled with our arms around each other.

“Do you swear you’re all right?” I asked. He looked fine. I touched his face and didn’t feel a bruise or bump.

“Nothing I can’t handle. How are you? Your eyes are swollen.”

“It’s horrible. Everything’s just horrible. I can’t take another minute.”

He held my jaw on both sides and looked into my face. “You can. You’re strong.”

I’d never thought of myself as strong. I only did what was easiest. Doing what I was told was easier than thinking about what I wanted. Chris was the only rule I’d ever broken because once he flirted with me at the club, he was too hard to stay away from. Once he kissed me, I didn’t have the strength to refuse him.

“Only because of you,” I said.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble. I’m sorry I came.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m ready. I don’t need anything. We can just leave. Right now.”

He pulled away, keeping his hands on my shoulders. I could barely see the whites of his eyes in the moonlight, but his voice was clear and urgent. “No, Rin. This is never going to be right between us.”

“What?”

Was he breaking up with me? Had he lied? Had I given a liar my body?

“If we run away, I’m ruining your life. We’re going to be two poor kids with nothing. Living on the street. Something has to change and I have to be the one to change it.”

“What are you going to change? My family isn’t changing. Barrington isn’t changing.”

“But I can change.”

“Change into what? A rich man? Here? Pruning rosebushes?” I was sorry I said it the moment the words left my mouth. They were all true, but certain truths were unspoken.

Chris didn’t seem hurt. His expression confirmed that we understood the same truths. “Not here.”

“Where? I don’t understand. You just said we weren’t leaving.”

When he slid his palms off my face and folded my hands into his, I knew what he intended to do.

“You can’t leave me here,” I said.

“I have to. Your parents are right. I’m not worthy of you. I have nothing to offer you.”

The bushes closed in on me. The sky got low, the house inched closer, the river hemmed me in.

“Yes, you do.” A sob choked back the rest of the sentence. What about happiness? What about love? What about two people making something out of nothing? “What about Lance?”

“I’ll take him with me.”

“Me too. Take me too.”

“You have to finish here. It doesn’t matter if I drop out of school,” he said, trying to be comforting, “but you—”

“I need to graduate?” I couldn’t let him finish his lie. “For what? Why does it even matter? I’m not Harper. I’m coasting.”

He squeezed my hands so hard it hurt. I cried for real, but not because of the pain. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted to be pressed so hard my bones broke and the agony leaked through the cracks.

“I’m coming back,” he said. “I’ll get something going and come back for you.”

“When?”

“Soon. I swear it.”

Soon?

Barrington was a prison. What was soon to its prisoners?

And if he wanted to go, why would I keep him here? Why wouldn’t I let him save himself? Why wouldn’t I want better for him?

In that, I found a little bit of strength. It came from the same place as the double-dog-dare I’d laid on my parents that afternoon. I wanted to be with him. I needed him to come back, but setting him free to become all the great things he wanted to be was a source of power.

“Chris Carmichael.” The tears stopped as if I’d twisted the faucet. I pulled my hands out of his, and he looked up in surprise and a little fear. “I swear to you, right now, and I mean it, I am not going to be with anyone else. I am here the same as always. So if you go off and do whatever? Change? Get a job? Find someone else?”

“I won’t.”

“Shush. If you do, you’d better write me and set me free, because I’m waiting for you.”

“Okay.”

“Say you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Say you’ll tell me right away if there’s someone else.”

“I’ll… there’s no—”

“Chris!” I said through my teeth. “Say it!”

“Catherine Barrington, I swear that if I lose my mind and find someone else, or maybe, like, if an army of winged wild monkeys hold—”

“Winged monkeys?” I laughed as I wiped my eyes.

“Or feral unicorns.”

“How far away are you going?” I tried to laugh quietly and ended up crying. He held me tight and kissed my hair. I rested my head on his shoulder.

“If I’m insane, or trapped, or if I’m possessed by the devil, I might come across another woman who’s entirely wrong for me. Before I commit to a lifetime of misery with her, I’ll set you free.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

What now? Was he going to walk away and leave me behind a gravestone?

I wouldn’t let him. He wasn’t going to turn his back on me.

I stood. He got to his feet and tried to touch me, but I pushed him away. I wanted to frustrate him. Let him feel what I was feeling before he went off to make himself into a man.

“I’m going in the house,” I said. “Please stay here until you’re sure I’m in bed. Wait as long as you can. Then just go.”

“Can I kiss you good-bye?”

“Promise you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I promise.”

He leaned in for a kiss, but I pushed him away. When I leaned back, I felt the stiff mass of money in my pocket. My hand shot back to make sure it didn’t fall out.

“No,” I said. “I don’t want some last kiss you have to appreciate. You should have known the last one was going to be the last.”

“You’re punishing me?”

I slid the envelope out of my back pocket. “Here.” I slapped his chest with it.

“What…?” He opened it and thrust it back at me. “I can’t take this.”

“How much do you have on you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not taking it.”

“You are. If you fail, you don’t come back. I’m invested in your success.”

He wavered, then came back to his original answer. “No.”

“It’s been sitting in my closet.”

“I said no!”

“It’s my guarantee!” I hissed. “You’ll come back to pay me if nothing else. Even though I don’t need it, because I live in a mansion with a staff and everything, you’ll get back here to pay back a stupid seven hundred and forty-nine dollar loan. So take it or I’m going to think you want to cut me out of this deal entirely.”

I snapped the envelope out of his hand and stuck it down his shirt. He laughed.

“Fine. But this is a guarantee,” he said. “I pay my debts. I’m coming back with the money and more.”

“Okay.”

“And when I do, I’m bringing you a rose for every dollar.”

“Just don’t take them out of this garden or Mom’s going to freak out.”

He smiled. “Okay, deal.”

“Deal.”

We had nothing left to say. I sucked my lips between my teeth to fill the vacuum where words should have been. I already felt a little more distant, a little more cut off, a little more alone.

“Stay here until I’m in my room,” I said.

I stepped back but couldn’t do it. Whatever strength I had wasn’t enough to deny my own need to kiss him. I had all the strength I needed because of him, but none to stay away from him.

Clutching the back of his shirt, his fingers in my hair, the force of his body against mine, I thought if I could just enter him, crawl inside him, he could take me along. Maybe that dream could happen. Two people making it work despite all the odds.

When I told myself the truth—that no matter how much I wanted to be with him every second, the odds were bad for a reason—I pulled away.

“You’re going to wait here, right?” I asked.

“Yes.” His arms relaxed and fell away.

“I love you,” I said, stepping back until I could see all of him.

“I love you too. Always.”

Not another word. Not another kiss or breath. Not another sight.

He’d forever be in the back of my family cemetery with his hands reaching for me and his lips claiming an eternity he didn’t own.

I ran to the house without looking back.

---

I didn’t sleep that night. I didn’t hear him leave and I didn’t check.

In the morning, the back of my great-grandfather’s headstone had a crude picture of an animal with wings and message scratched into it.

Not even winged monkeys

Not even.