happened?”
“She’d be in high school now. Cotton still misses her. He thinks she’s going to come home. He doesn’t want to go to college because he wants to be here when she comes back.”
“That was an awful thing, Ria. I didn’t know it still bothered you.” Mom sat up.
“I didn’t either. But I think it should. We can’t completely forget about her.” Her voice was ragged and thick with tears she hadn’t known were there. “Cotton would do anything to find her. He’s always looking, wondering. He misses her all the time.” The idea of carrying all that heavy missing forever pressed on her chest, making it hard to breathe. “Do you think she’s alive?”
Mom wrapped an arm around Ria’s waist.
“I hope so,” said Dad.
“I don’t. If she’s alive, out there somewhere, it’s too awful to think what she’s doing. She can’t be the same anymore. Not after all this time.”
Dad rolled over to face her. “People can get through things. Our brains and our hearts, they help us. We have to hold out hope that she’s all right. And maybe, by some miracle, she’s going to show up again.”
A nod was as much motion as she could muster. Her body had turned impossibly heavy.
“She has a family who loves her and misses her. That goes a long way,” Dad continued.
She’d never minded being an only child, but now, seeing how her entire family fit on the bed . . . if anything ever happened to her . . . or either of them . . .
“Benny doesn’t have anyone.”
Neither of her parents answered. She could feel them waiting, biting back the questions and worry. It was true. He had no family, no girlfriend, not even a pet. They used to have him over for holidays, partly so he’d remember not to schedule practice. He had no one to say goodbye to.
“Ria, babe, I watched the video the other day. Of your fall in LA.”
She groaned. They’d watched it so many times that day to see if the other coach had done anything even slightly wrong. There was nothing to see.
“You looked so scared. I didn’t notice before.” Mom’s voice sounded thick and teary. Like maybe she could forgive Ria for getting it wrong.
“Do you remember how Benny got me pink boots for my tenth birthday? You said they were too expensive. . . .”
“And impractical! They had those ridiculous heels.”
“Damn, I loved them. I wore them every day to practice.”
“Yep. You clomped all the way from the car to the pool.”
Tears streamed down her face. She had no idea what to do with all this mess. “We used to have so much fun. The whole team did. We worked hard, but we played games, too. Like Suicide Squad. And Romeo and Juliet. He even let us play hide-and-seek in the gym.”
“The slumber party fund-raiser was the most exhausting night of my life,” Dad said.
Ria laughed. “You did a backflip! You were the coolest dad.”
“And I paid for it the next day.”
“I miss my pink boots.” Ria let out a loud, shuddering sigh. Wiped her eyes on the sheet, knowing she was smearing makeup on it. It wasn’t the boots as much as the her who had worn them. She’d been so sure of herself back then, so confident. She missed not knowing that the thing she loved most could sour and stain.
She missed little Esther going out to play, too.
She was being ridiculous. Her missing was nothing compared to the hole in Cotton’s family, and yet she couldn’t seem to hold herself together. Everything that had always been her—Ria—was leaking out the hole that diving had left.
If Cotton had the chance to end his missing, he’d take it. Even if it meant facing something new and awful. He’d be brave and charge in.
“Sean and I broke up.”
“I’m sorry. . . .” Mom stroked her hair.
“Don’t. I’m fine. It was my idea.”
“Was it because of . . . something with Esther? Did something happen?”
“No. I wasn’t even thinking about her until I was lying here like I did when she first disappeared.”
“What about Cotton?”
“I told you. He misses her all the time.”
“I meant you and Sean,” said Dad. “Did you break up because of Cotton?”
“I don’t know.” Of course they believed her. Her not-knowing was typical. Something understood.
Twenty-Eight
Seeing as Sean had been Ria’s first boyfriend, he was also her first breakup. She doubted he wanted to see her any more than she wanted to see him, but she was still