The long way home

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Worst Thing Ever The wind outside had fallen off, but, all the same, a chill drifted in through the broken window of the Ghost Mansion's parlor. Beth paused in her story. She shivered and I shivered and we both looked away.

It was kind of embarrassing, that's all-sitting there, listening to Beth describe what I said to her and how I kissed her. It was embarrassing-and it was molto weird, too, because I didn't remember any of it. I didn't remember saying that stuff about the jigsaw pieces fitting together and everything-although, I have to admit, when she told it to me, I thought it was a pretty cool thing to have said. Because, the thing was, I could feel it, even now. I could feel it was true right that second, sitting there with her.

"I bet that was nice," I said. "Kissing you for the first time. I wish I could remember what that was like."

"It was like this," she told me.

And then we didn't say anything for a while.

And for a while, Beth told me, Alex and the murder fell into the background of our lives. Just about everything did, except for us being together. Walking home together, going out together, being around each other. It was as if we had made some kind of discovery-as if we had discovered something that had been right there in front of us and yet hidden away at the same time. I guess we'd fallen in love. Which, I guess, happens a lot in the world. But it felt to us like it had never happened to anyone before. It felt like nothing that special and yet so incredibly right could happen any more than once in a million years.

We were together every minute we could be. We did homework together and watched TV together. We talked and talked to each other, telling each other the stories of our lives, everything we hoped to do after we got out of school and all the secret stuff we thought about that we never told anyone.

"It's like we're two different computers downloading our programs into each other," I said to her. "It's like we're becoming a two-machine network running the same software."

She laughed at me. "Only a guy would say something like that."

"Why?" I said. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's, like, the least romantic thing I think I've ever heard. In fact, it may be the least romantic thing anybody's ever said."

I laughed too. "Come on! You think it's the least romantic thing anybody's ever said? Ever? What about, like, cabbage. Or mud. Or, Hey, Al, I dropped my cabbage in the mud."

"Even that is more romantic than comparing us to two machines with the same software."

"It's a very romantic concept."

"To a guy!"

"It's like a love song or something." I sang it to her: "You're the software that makes my computer full-and that's why I think you're so beauter-full…"

That made her laugh even more. Or maybe it was just my singing voice, which, I've noticed, makes a lot of people laugh.

Anyway, it seems we spent a lot of time together talking about stupid stuff like that and then laughing about it. And we would wonder to each other sometimes why anyone would ever do anything else, why everyone didn't spend all of their time just saying stupid things and laughing. It seemed like the best thing two people could possibly do.

But then we stopped. Suddenly. We stopped laughing. We stopped saying stupid things. All our happiness came crashing down around us.

It happened on a Tuesday, early morning, before school. I called Beth and told her we had to meet at our place. I told her it was important.

Our place was the path by the river, the path where we'd walked that first time together. We met there sometimes in the early morning when there were no crowds, no one except the occasional young professional getting in some biking exercise before the day began.

The autumn had gone on now and the leaves were falling. The branches of the birches were almost bare and the yellow leaves lay in the grass beside the path and blew rattling across the pavement. The weather was turning too. The sky that morning was steel gray, and there was a damp chill in the air that told you winter was coming.

Beth got to the path before me and waited. When she saw me coming, when she saw my face, she knew right away that something was really wrong.

"Charlie? Are you okay? What's the matter?" she said.

She reached out with both her hands to take my hands. But I wouldn't give them to her. I stood at a little distance with my thumbs in my pockets. I looked at her and my face was hard, she said, as if I was trying to look angry or mean. But she saw something else in my eyes.

"Look," I told her. "I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything, but we have to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop seeing each other. We can't see each other anymore."

"Charlie, what're you talking about? Why?"

"Well, because… We just should. That's the way I want it, all right? It's-I don't know-it's just getting too serious for me. After a while, we'll go to college or whatever and… what's the point, you know? Look, I just think it's the right thing to do. I don't feel the same way about you anymore and I-I just want to end it, that's all."

Beth stared at me a long time. She had a sick feeling in her stomach, but it wasn't what she expected. She wasn't sad, as if we were breaking up. Instead, she was afraid and she wasn't sure why.

She shook her head. She stepped closer to me, studying my face, studying my eyes.

Then she said, "You're lying to me, Charlie. I never saw you lie before, but I know it when I see it. Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not…"

"Yes, you are. I know it when I see it. You're not doing this because your feelings have changed. You feel just the same…"

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do, Charlie. Don't lie." I looked away from her and she knew she was right. "Tell me what's the matter."

When I looked at her again, my face was still set, still hard, but she could see the doubt in my eyes.

"Look," I told her. "It just… it isn't right, that's all. You and me. It's a mistake."

"Don't say that. You know that's not true."

"You're just going to get hurt, Beth. That's all I'm trying to tell you, all right? I just don't want you to get hurt."

"You have to tell me what's wrong."

"Look…" I tried again. "Look, I can't. I can't tell you. Okay? We have to end it, that's all. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"No," Beth said. "We can't. I mean, haven't you been paying attention? We don't have the right to just end this. We didn't make it and we can't end it."

"I don't even know what that means," I said sourly.

She put her hand on my arm. This time I let her. "Charlie, look at me." It seemed to her I had to force myself to meet her eyes. "Charlie, this thing happening with us-it doesn't happen to everyone. They say it does in the movies, but it doesn't. It's special. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I know it."

"Then you know we can't just throw it away because there's some kind of trouble."

"I'm not trying to throw it away, I'm just… Aw, Beth." I bowed my head and dug the heels of my palms into my eyes. "I don't even know what to do."

"Just tell me what's happening."

It was a long time before I could raise my head and look at her again. "It's the worst thing," I said. "The worst thing ever." Now all the hardness was gone from my face. Now it was me reaching out for her, taking her by the shoulders. "They're coming for me, Beth."

"Who? Who is?"

"The police. They're going to arrest me."

"Arrest you? For what?" But she already knew. "For Alex? How do you know?"

"I know. That detective… That detective Rose. He called my dad. They… they found a knife. A combat knife. It's the murder weapon and… Well, they say it has my fingerprints on it and my DN A. And they say there are traces of Alex's blood on my clothes."

She stared up at me. "There has to be some kind of mistake. I mean, how could that happen?"

"I don't know, I…" She saw my shoulders sag. I closed my eyes a moment as if I were surrendering to something inside myself. When I opened them again, Beth said, it was as if a mask had fallen away from my face. As if I had been pretending to be someone else and now I was Charlie again. I said to her, "Listen to me, Beth. All right? Listen because… well, because I need you to get this. I didn't kill him. Okay? No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, no matter what it looks like, I didn't kill Alex. You looked at me before and you knew I was lying. Now I need you to look at me and believe I'm telling the truth."

"I am," she said softly. "I do."

"Never stop. Okay? Never stop believing it. No matter what happens."

"I won't."

I took her into my arms and held her against me. "You were right," I said, my lips against her ear. "You were right and I was wrong. The stuff I feel for you-I didn't make it and it isn't mine to throw away. And I won't. I can't."

"I can't either. And I won't, Charlie. I promise."

"No matter what happens."

"No matter what."

When I got to school that morning, the police were waiting for me.