This is What Goodbye Looks Like (3 page)

“Um,” Brie says, and I realize she’s just been staring at me and not answering my question. I lean over and pick up my smallest bag, partially to prove I’m not entirely helpless, and partially so I can pretend like nothing happened and let Brie keep talking.

“So,” she says, “uh, yeah, Nathan and I met at the pizza place he works at. It’s sort of the hang out spot for the seniors at Harting, and he started working there about a year ago.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “I thought you were a taxi driver?”

“He has many talents,” Brie says.

“And many bills,” Nathan says. “I’m trying to save up for culinary school, but it’s taking a while.”

“I still think you need to try applying for some scholarships,” Brie says to him. “You could totally get them.” Then she turns to me and adds, “I swear he makes the best pizzas in the state. I mean, he can even make
anchovies
taste good. Not even joking.”

“Aww, Brie, you’re making me blush,” Nathan says, winking at her.

She rolls her eyes. “Learn to take a compliment gracefully, will you?”

He laughs. “Graceful isn’t my style, sweetie.” He glances over at me and frowns as I try to rub my arms and balance on my cane all at once. “Where’s your coat?”

“I didn’t bring it on the plane.” And I’m already regretting it as the chill seeps deeper into my skin every second. I clear my throat a little, which has become a habit ever since the accident. My vocal chords don’t painfully spasm like they used to, but my voice still goes hoarse a lot, and clearing my throat seems to help. “Um, can we go inside? Sorry, it’s just kind of freezing out here.”

Brie takes a moment to examine my clothes and then shakes her head. “Well of course you’re cold! I’m going to have to give you a major lesson on layering. It’s the only way you’re ever going to survive here.”

Nathan scoffs. “You Californians and your cold intolerance. Such wimps.”

“Well excuse me for not being born with antifreeze in my veins,” Brie says as she grabs my other two bags from the ground. “Totally not my fault my parents didn’t want to raise me in a frozen wasteland.”

“Come on, Brie, it’s not
that
bad here,” Nathan says. “You know the teachers only start eating the freshmen when they get snowed in for longer than twenty days.”

Brie swats at Nathan’s arm and says to me, “Ignore him. He’s just jealous he didn’t get to go to school at Harting.”

“Fifteen essays a semester? Yeah, I’m happy I passed that one up. You smart kids are crazy.” Nathan hesitates for a moment, then says to me, “Hey, I’ve got to take off now.”

“Oh,” I say. “Yeah, hang on a sec.” I rest my cane against the side of the taxi and dig through my backpack, pulling out my wallet. I quickly count out the fare, along with a forty dollar tip, and press it into Nathan’s hand before he can protest.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly thinking it’s a mistake, but I just shrug and don’t take it back. Every month, I get a small check from the stock photo website where I sell some of my old photography as prints. Mom helped me set up the account my sophomore year of high school, saying it made me a true professional. The income I make off my photography isn’t much, but ever since the accident, it hasn’t felt right to keep it for myself. So I’ve started giving the money away, usually to local charities, but sometimes just as big tips to people who deserve it more than I do. I figure Nathan fits the profile well enough, as a hard-working dude trying to earn his way into school.

He gives me a salute and a grateful smile as he tucks the money in his pocket and slams the trunk of the taxi closed. “Good meeting you, Lea,” he says, climbing back in the front. “And see you around, Brie.”

I carefully balance my smallest bag and my cane as I step onto the pathway, giving Nathan space to pull out. The ground is slick with melted snow, and even though there’s no real ice at the moment, I have to concentrate to keep my balance.

He’s hardly started to pull away from the parking space when Brie grabs my shoulder, making me wobble for a moment. “Oh my god, isn’t he adorable?” she says. “I totally have a crush on him.”

I return Nathan’s wave as he pulls out of the lot, and a smile inches its way across my lips. “You don’t say.”

Brie blushes harder, but doesn’t even try to hide her grin. “I know, it’s totally obvious, right? Everyone’s always teasing me about it, but I can’t help it. He’s just dreamy, you know?”

I can’t help it. I cough up a small laugh, and it’s such a foreign sensation that I nearly choke.

Brie’s forehead crinkles. “What? You don’t think he’s hot?”

“No, no, he’s hot. Sweet, too. It’s just, uh, I didn’t think I’d be hearing the word ‘dreamy’ to describe a guy anytime soon. I thought I left that behind in California.”

And in middle school, but I don’t add that part. If Brie’s attending Harting, chances are she’s not nearly as ditzy as she acts.

She holds her hands up in mock surrender. “I can never catch a break around here with the accent.”

I shrug. “I like it. It reminds me of some good parts of home.”

One good part in particular. The part that’s currently hooked up to a bunch of hospital monitors and machines, when she should be enjoying her freshman year of high school.

Brie picks up the rest of my luggage and nods toward the sidewalk she came sprinting down a few minutes earlier. “Come on, I’ll show you our room. All your other stuff got here yesterday, so it’s waiting there. By the way, did you pack a bunch of gold bars or something? Because I helped unload the boxes, and they’re ridiculously heavy.”

“Those are probably all my books,” I say, hurrying to follow after her. Luckily, the path is cleared and not too icy, so walking isn’t much harder than usual. “Sorry, I know they’re crazy heavy. But I couldn’t just leave them behind.”

“Oh my god, I am
so
glad. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my old roomie, but Nicole was totally a geek, and I’m just not into techy stuff. Books I get. Actually, I’m planning on minoring in Classic Lit when I hit college.” Brie offers me another grin, which she seems to have a never-ending supply of. “We’ll have to compare bookshelves.”

She doesn’t give me a chance to reply before she starts rattling off explanations of various buildings as we pass them. Science lab, gymnasium, boys’ dorm, library, dining hall—which isn’t just called the “cafeteria,” of course, because Harting is far too sophisticated for such a mundane name. Brie points them out one by one, and even though I’m pretty familiar with the campus from the online tour, the refresher is welcome.

By the time we make it to the girls’ dorm on the opposite side of campus, my arms are aching, but my heart rate has slowed to a nearly normal pace. So far, things are going surprisingly well.

Brie holds open the door for me, and I repress a shudder as I limp through the tall, arched entrance. It reminds me too much of the doors leading into the courtroom that I spent most of last summer in.

“Everyone’s at dinner now, but they’ll be back soon,” Brie says. “Do you want to head over to the dining hall and try to catch them before dinner’s over, or just crash here and wait?”

“Wait, definitely,” I say. “It’s been a really long trip. But don’t feel like you have to stay with me.”

She nods and leads me down a long hallway lined with doors. “Yeah, I get that. I’ll run over to the hall and bring you back something to eat.” She stops at a door marked with a placard that reads, “
Brie Myers.”
Under that, someone’s put a piece of duct tape over the bottom name and written “
Lea Holder”
in black sharpie.

It’s a strange relief to see Dad’s last name. I’ve used my mom’s last name ever since I was little—we’ve both always been proud of her Spanish blood. But after the accident, it didn’t feel right identifying with my mom’s side of the family anymore. Besides, using Dad’s boring German name means there’s less of a chance of Seth Ashbury recognizing me. I had to use my legal name for my formal application to the school, of course, but I’ve asked to use “Lea Holder” for everything else. As far as Seth’s aware, the name of the girl involved in the accident was Leandra Alessio. Hopefully, using the combo of my nickname and Dad’s last name will be enough to fool him into thinking I’m someone completely different.

Brie shoves open the door, exposing a surprisingly large room that’s absolutely pristine. I silently hope she isn’t usually this organized, because if there’s one thing I suck at, it’s keeping things tidy. Brie steps inside and sets my bags at the foot of the bed near the window. The nightstand beside it is completely empty, so I’m assuming that’s my side of the room. On the opposite side is Brie’s bed, which has a fluffy purple comforter pulled over the top and an assortment of nail polishes arranged on the nightstand. They’re color coded and aligned perfectly, and I cringe, realizing I’m sharing a dorm with a neat freak.

The only part of the room that isn’t completely organized are the walls. Photos of foreign cities cover them, especially the area right around Brie’s bed. Paris, Rome, Athens, Sydney, Hong Kong, London... It looks like she’s scavenged the photos from dozens of different travel magazines.

“You like to travel?” I ask as I step inside, setting my carry-on bag next to the others.

Brie just shrugs. “I’ve never been outside of the States. But someday I will. It’d be cool to see these places for real, and not just inside magazines.” She steps up to a photo of the Parthenon and runs her fingertips over it. The way she stares longingly at the photo makes me wonder if she’s actually interested in exploring, or if she’s just looking to escape, like I have.

Brie jerks her hand back suddenly, seeming to realize I’m staring at her, and nods to where her photos spill over to my side of the room. “I can move them, if you want.”

I shake my head and sit on the edge of the bed, examining a series of images of the New Zealand coastline that’s above my nightstand. It’s masterful photography, the sort of work that makes me jealous of nature photographers and their gift for capturing the soul of lifeless landscapes.

“No,” I say. “I like them.”

Brie smiles a bit and then clears her throat. “”Um...do you...” For the first time since I met her, she sounds sort of hesitant, and she awkwardly shuffles her feet. I raise an eyebrow, silently asking what’s wrong, and she rushes on.

“Do you need help with unpacking? Because, like, your leg is obviously screwed up, and I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to make you walk around or do anything that’s going to hurt, you know?”

“I’m fine,” I snap.

She flinches, and I realize my tone was way too harsh, so I take a deep breath and say, “Thanks. I appreciate it. But I’ve had people trying to take care of me for months, and I’m okay taking care of myself now. So, um, yeah. Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine.”

I wait for Brie to flash her easy smile and move the conversation along, but she just bites her lip and gives me a hard stare. “I take it the cane is something you don’t talk about?”

“Not willingly.”

“Good,” she says. “My old roommate talked about literally everything. And sometimes I think there’s nothing that makes you feel worse than a person who has nothing in their life they want to avoid talking about.”

I meet her stare for a long moment, taking in her perfect face and perfect makeup and perfect hair, and wondering just how much imperfection is hiding behind it all.

“I think we’re going to get along just fine,” I say.

And only then does she smile and switch topics, sparing me any more awkwardness. “So the bathroom is down the hall to the right, and if you need anything while I’m gone, Ms. Thorne’s office is in the back of the building by the vending machines. We weren’t expecting you until later tonight, so she probably doesn’t even know you’re here yet. She’s totally going to freak out since I didn’t bring you right to her, but whatever. A girl needs her beauty rest, right?”

“Yeah, thanks. I really don’t feel like doing check-in paperwork right now.”

“No problem. I’ll be right back, okay?” She gives a dainty wave and slips out the door.

As soon as the latch clicks shut behind her, I let my eyes close. So far, so good. I was half expecting an alarm to start blaring the second I showed up at campus. I know it’s sick to transfer to the same school as Seth Ashbury—if he ever finds out who I am, he’d probably strangle me for coming here, and rightly so.

But I have to do this. When Camille comes out of her coma, she’s going to find her body broken, and I can’t let her wake up to a broken family as well. I have to figure out how to fix the mess our family has become. And once I do that...

Then I don’t know what comes next. Hell, I’m not even sure how I’m going to learn to fix my family in the first place. I never expected to actually make it this far in my plan to come to Harting. All I knew was that staying around San Diego seemed like an impossible torture, and coming here would let me escape in the most productive manner possible.

But I figured I’d be immediately rejected from the school, and I nearly croaked from shock when I found out I’d actually been admitted and gotten a scholarship to boot. And now that I’m here, I’m realizing just how flimsy my plan is. To figure out how Seth healed his family, I have to get to know him well. But how the hell do I do that without him figuring out who I am?