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When 17-year-old Arbor Hayes' best friend turns up alive after a mysterious six-month disappearance, she must piece together the fragments of her story to make sense of what happened. But as clues e...
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"I can't get over how she looks. She's like a completely different person," Smith says, stuffing another chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.
I gather the leftover Chinese cartons from the table and toss them in the trash, then settle into the chair next to him with a cookie of my own. "I guess that's what happens when you lose a ton of weight."
He shrugs. "I guess. But she looks like a walking skeleton. It can't be healthy."
"I've been thinking the same thing. I'm sure she'll put some weight on now that she's back home."
He nods, takes a sip of milk, while I push my cookie to the side, the desire for empty calories gone.
Since I got out of the shower, all we've talked about is Emma. This was Smith's first time seeing her and the experience has jarred him, the same way it'd done to me. He'd never admit it, he usually hides his deeper feelings, but I can tell. He's been running his hands through his hair ever since we came inside, a dead giveaway that something's weighing on his mind.
"What do you think she meant by not remembering much?" he asks. "I've read that can happen to survivors, but it's weird to see in real life. How do their brains block out an entire chunk of time?"
I drop my head into my hands and press my fingertips to my temples, rubbing tiny circles into the tension gathered beneath the skin. If Emma doesn't remember what happened, then why did she say she was afraid to tell Smith? Does she think the bits and pieces she can recall are enough to freak him out? "Mey said there's some kind of amnesia related to post traumatic stress. Maybe that's what's going on?"
"Yeah, maybe."
I sit up in my chair and face him, determined to talk this through, but it's like I can see tiny specks of their past floating in his eyes.
Is he too caught up in Emma to face what I'm about to say? "We need to tell her about us. She obviously thinks you're still together and it's not right to keep it from her. Unless ..." Unease boils in my gut. I force the words from my mouth anyway, and try not to look as uncomfortable as I feel. "Unless you'd like to be with her, too?"
"Arbor ..." Smith leans closer and takes my hands in his. "I want to be with you. But ..." There's a but. I knew there'd be a but. "I still don't think we should say anything. It's too soon. We need to make sure she's okay first."
My face contorts, the muscles pinching together. "How can we do that? Sooner or later, you're going to have to go over there, and after seeing your cozy reunion today, I can only imagine what she has in mind. Which is crazy, don't you think? Should she be that touchy-feely after what she's been through?" I try not to sigh but it comes out anyway. "I suppose everyone handles trauma differently, but the point is, in her mind you're still boyfriend and girlfriend, same as you've always been. Maybe I should be the one who steps back? I can't hurt her anymore than she's already been. She's my best friend."
