it.” His voice is pinched. “You wish you’d never kissed me and don’t want a repeat. Well, there won’t be one, so you can relax.”
I touch his shoulder. “I didn’t say that. I just—it was only at first that I felt like I was kissing Jake. Then it was you. And I wouldn’t mind if it happened again, but I can’t think about that right now.” I sigh. “Please don’t be upset.”
A scowl darkens his face. “I’m trying to understand, but you’re not making it easy. You say you wouldn’t mind if it happened again, but I saw you making out with Ty, and now you tell me that when we kissed the first time you felt like you were kissing some other guy. What am I supposed to think?”
Knowing I don’t deserve Wyatt’s understanding, I say, “I know this is messed up. I’m messed up.”
He looks down at his boots.
Birds chirp high in the branches overhead. On the opposite side of the pond, two deer pass between the trees. I hear a splash as a fish jumps in the water near the shore where we stand, rippling a perfect circle on the surface of the pond.
“I’ll go with you to talk to your mom if you want,” Wyatt mutters after a minute. “We’ll figure this out.”
Relieved that he’s not going to walk away, I say, “Thanks, Wyatt. You’re awesome to offer, but right now I just need you to talk to me. About Iris. All of it.” Ducking my head, I catch his gaze.
“Sure.” He kicks a rock. “So . . . uh . . . has she made anything else happen since she hit the brake on the four-wheeler? Besides forcing you to kiss me, I mean?” His mouth slants into a smirk.
“I can play the violin,” I say, choosing to ignore his sarcasm. “I’m not sure if Iris is playing it through me or what, but I’m almost as good as she was. Possibly just as good. The first time I picked up her violin I knew exactly what to do. I didn’t even have to think about it.”
He frowns and gnaws his lower lip.
“What?” I say.
“I don’t know. This is all pretty weird. Maybe I should see that video.”
“You should.” I want to tell him that the music was like a balm to Cookie’s spirit, and how hearing Iris play it on the video had a powerful effect on me, too, but I don’t. He already thinks I’ve lost it. I don’t want to convince him he’s right. “Come over after school and I’ll play the violin for you,” I say.
“I’ll try.” I get the impression that he isn’t sure if he should be worried about me or laugh in my face.
“I can play,” I say, feeling defensive. “Ask Ty. He was there. He heard me. He said I was wonderful.”
“Yeah, I saw how wonderful he thinks you are.” Wyatt jams his hands into his pockets. “Sorry. That just slipped out.”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“I said it first.”
With a flustered laugh, I say, “That depends on when you started counting.” We stare at each other. The air is so thick with tension, I can barely breathe. “Promise you won’t tell your grandmother about any of this, okay? I’m not ready to talk about it with anyone except you.”
“Sure. Okay. I won’t say anything.”
We start walking at the same time, careful not to look at each other. Hating the awkwardness between us, I reach over and grab the tie dangling down from Wyatt’s stocking cap and give it a tug.
He slides me a crooked smile.
I smile back. Progress.
14
When we get home, Mom’s up and sitting at the kitchen table in front of a plate of bacon and eggs that haven’t been touched. Addie stands at the sink washing dishes and chattering like a magpie. Mom responds to her questions with brief, quiet answers and downcast eyes.
I go upstairs and bring Cookie down. He’s not as spunky as he was yesterday, but at least his tail thumps the mattress when he sees me, and that gives me hope that he’s going to be okay.
After Addie and Wyatt leave, I go straight to the shower, and as the hot water sluices down my body, I cry until I’m numb. Wyatt didn’t believe me. Ty and my parents betrayed my trust.
Why didn’t you move on after you died? I ask Iris. What kept you here?
Jake, she says. And something unfinished. I have to watch over you.