Authors: Katie Hayoz
Untethered (34 page)
I’m about to go back upstairs when I hear the squeak of Cassie’s storm door. I move into the kitchen to see out the window and hold my breath as I watch her trek across her backyard and stand at the hedge. She looks up at the moon, then at my house.
I rush to the back hall. My boots are on the floor. I stuff my feet into them and pull my down coat from its peg on the wall. I open the door and step into the backyard, sensing the quiet that comes with snowfall. With the layer of white on the ground and trees, the night is dark, but faintly glowing.
Snow squeaks under my boots. I make a trail of footprints to the hedge, now just straggly branches in the bitter cold. Cassie stands on the other side, her arms wrapped around her middle, staring at me with her lips pressed together.
It’s like the first time we met. In the winter. Across this same hedge. I try to say something, anything, but I can’t decide on the words. My breath comes out as smoky puffs with no sound. Finally, Cassie says, “So you’re out of Kevin.”
“Yep.” Crisp air sidles down my jacket collar. I lift my shoulders and punch my hands into my pockets.
Cassie looks off into the dark corner of her yard. “I heard about the swim meet. Is Kevin okay?”
“He’s in the hospital. But he’s him,” I say.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“I read ... I read the message,” Cassie says. “Why did you send it?”
“It wasn’t from me. I sent it, yeah. But it was from Kevin. He wanted to tell you the truth.”
“He made a bet about –”
“Yeah. I know.” I dig the toe of my boot into the snow. “I don’t know what was in the message he wrote you. But he likes you. For real.”
Cassie shrugs. “I’m not sure how I feel anymore. About anything.” A tiny smile tugs at her lips but it doesn’t reach her eyes. They’re sad, sad eyes.
I can’t hold back. The words tumble out of me: “Oh, God, Cass. I’m sorry. I miss you so much. And I know you can’t forgive me but—”
“Blood sisters always forgive.” Her voice is barely audible.
“What?”
“Our oath: ‘Blood sisters, blood sisters as long as we live. Always together, we always forgive.’”
I stare at her, mouth open. “I thought you hated me. That you’d never forgive me. But you forgive me?”
“I took the oath didn’t I?”
I feel light as air. “You mean it? You mean things can go back to the way they were?”
But Cassie shakes her head and her voice hardens. “I said that I’d forgive, Sylvie. Not that I’d forget. Things will
never
be the way they were. Never.”
My throat is raw. I swallow down the pain.
Suddenly, the light goes on upstairs in my mom’s bedroom.
Cassie gives me a little shove. “You’d better go. Your mom’ll probably start checking in on you twenty times a night until she’s sure you’re all right.” She starts walking back across her yard.
I do the same, listening to the crunch under my boots.
I hear her storm door squeal. She goes inside, letting the door bang shut behind her.
I put my hand on my own doorknob. At that moment, something changes. The cold air on my neck gets warmer and the chill in the air loses its crispness. The shadows in the yard seem to pull back. They’ve lost the power to influence me.
I know it’ll take time. Almost forever. But that Cassie and I will be friends again. That I’ll learn how to keep the shadows at bay. And that I’ll be able to see myself for who I really am.
It’s like a stopper is pulled from me. Like the emotion I’ve been bottling up is suddenly let loose. I feel like I can breathe again.
I go inside and pull my usual trick of pouring a glass of juice to fake a midnight thirst. Mom rushes into the kitchen as I set down the container. Her hair is a mess and her bathrobe is on inside out. “Are you okay, Sylvie? You weren’t in your room ...”
“I’m fine, Mom. I’m home.”
And I’m me
.
And I can live with that.
Forty-Three
Life is Never Usual
I sit on the examining table in the lab, the paper gown crackling with every move I make. Machines line the walls. A handful of wires hangs from one, ready to attach to the little sticky pads all over my body.
There’s a quiet knock on the door. Dr. Hong comes in, a questioning look on his face. “So, Sylvie. More tests?”
“That’s your thing, isn’t it?”
He chuckles and opens his arms wide, palms up. “Not this time.”
He pulls over a high stool on wheels and sits on it. His lips purse up as he studies me. “You realize, Sylvie, if this is for real, if you can prove it, it will have consequences. First, I’ll have to reconsider everything I believe. And you ... well, I think you’ll have to get used to being tested.”
“This is me you’re talking to, Dr. Hong. Little miss lab rat. I think I’m actually starting to grow a tail.”
He throws his head back and laughs. I notice he’s trimmed his nose hairs.
When he’s stopped laughing, he looks at me. “Like I said, I’m here to listen. Just tell me what to do.”
“Okay. So, I’ve got a test for you.” I smile. “Take a piece of paper and write anything you want on it. Something I won’t guess. Then go put it on your desk. When you leave your office, lock the door behind you ...”
*THE END*
Acknowledgements
There are so many people I want to thank that it is impossible to list them all here. From friends to neighbors to other writers who have given me your support or advice in one way or another – be it a shoulder to cry on, babysitting time, or just a kind word – I appreciate all you have done.
Thank you to all my beta readers. You know who you are. Those of you who read the earliest versions of this book and were still able to encourage me to keep writing, despite the mess the manuscript was back then. You all deserve medals for wading through the thing and finding ways to give me constructive criticism.
Thank you to Jane Dystel and Miriam Goderich at DGLM for believing this book had potential.
To Susan Tiberghien and everyone in the Geneva Writers’ Group. I doubt there are many places as welcoming and nurturing to writers as the GWG. You all have made the group my home away from home.
To my brothers and sisters – Mary Kay, Terry, Julie, Stephen, and Matt. The only reason I can write about sibling relationships is because I have you! And special thanks to Julie, who called up with plot ideas and twists and who told me that freaky story about the boy in her high school who claimed he could astral project.
To my sister-in-law, Elaine, for being my cheerleader, but also for being honest about what needed work. And to Celine and Paul for the whole wasabi on the cereal bit.
A big hug to Mom and Dad. You are the best.
A high-five to Robbie Loewith for the title. Two words: love it.
And to Nathalia Suellen for the super gorgeous cover on this edition!
To Mslexia magazine. I still can’t believe my book was a finalist in your children’s novel competition!
To my husband, Laurent, for not complaining about all the nights I left him with tuck-in duty to go write at the university.
Merci, et je t’aime. Je ne te le dis pas assez
. And to my daughters, Emma and Elodie, who talk about their mother being a writer like it’s akin to being a superhero. I hope I’ll make you proud.
To the Queens of Awesomeness: The Birks – past and present. You ladies rock. You have changed the way I write and the way I feel about myself, all for the better. A hug to those of you who helped out with this book and the writer that came with it: Paula Read, Jawahara Saidullah, Daniela Norris, Tima Mujezinovic, Sharon Pollack, Sher Gordon, Moyette Gibbons, Christine Hendricks, and Melissa Miller.
And, finally, to you, reader, for picking up my book. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it.
About the Author
Katie Hayoz was born in Racine, WI, but ended up in Geneva, Switzerland, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and a very fuzzy cat. She loves to read and devours YA novels like she does popcorn and black licorice: quickly and in large quantities.
Connect with her on her website:
http://www.katiehayoz.com
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