Freddie and I both stay there in bed for a moment before he says, “You think she’s okay?”
I groan. “I’ll check on her.” I get out of bed and knock on the bathroom door. “Grace, you okay?”
“I need to go home.” I hear her cough and spit into the toilet. “Please just get me home.”
I nod. My mouth is too dry to talk and my eyes are swollen from crying. For a moment, I have to force myself through the horrible ritual of remembering what happened last night.
We get ready quickly and in silence. Without me asking, Freddie turns around so that I can slip my shorts on. When Grace comes out, she’s wearing her huge sunglasses, but they can’t hide her stringy hair or chalk-like complexion.
The drive back to Picayune, Mississippi, is only an hour and a half, but the stale silence in the car makes me feel likeour travel time has been doubled. When we finally do drop Grace off, I get out to help with her bag in the trunk.
“Thanks,” she says as I hand it to her.
I don’t look up to meet her gaze. “Yeah.”
Her mom swings the front door open. “Morning, girls! Ramona, would you and your friend like to come in for breakfast?”
I clear my throat and put on a smile so painful it makes my jaw ache. “No, ma’am. We oughta head home!”
“Next time!” she calls. “Y’all have a safe drive home.”
I wave as she steps back inside, leaving the door open for Grace.
I don’t know what to say to her.Bye? See you never? Thanks for breaking my heart?But Grace speaks first.
“I know we... I was drunk last night.” She takes a deep breath and then exhales harshly. “But sometimes the truth comes out, even if it’s not the right time. I’m sorry. I wish it hadn’t ended this way. Take care of yourself, Ramona.”
Any lingering hope I’d had of last night being a drunken mistake evaporates.
I watch her walk to the front door, her purse in one hand and her flip-flops in the other, and I wonder if this is the last time I’ll ever see her.
“You want me to wait until she gets in?” Freddie asks gently.
I shake my head. I don’t want to start crying again.
On the way home, we share war stories. I tell Freddie about my explosive fight with Grace in the yard, and Freddie tells me about Viv wanting to date other peopleand about how she wants to be able to go to dances and parties and not worry that he’ll be upset or jealous. He blames himself over and over again for ever choosing to leave, but I have to trust that everything happens for a reason. I have to.
“I’m done with this,” he says.
“With Viv?” I ask. “For good?”
He shakes his head. “Not just her. All girls.”
I laugh. “You’re not alone, my friend.”
His speed slows as we enter a construction area. “I’m serious. No more girls. At least not until after graduation. You in?”
I shrug and roll down the window so I can drag my fingers through the thick morning humidity. “Why the hell not?”
OCTOBER
FIFTEEN
I keep thinking it will take a lot to keep my pact with Freddie, but it doesn’t.
Grace disappears from my life like the most careful burglar, leaving not even the whisper of a fingerprint behind and stealing only parts of me I can feel and not see. I feel the impact of her absence during every lull in conversation and in the quiet morning hours when I ride my paper route. It’s only been a week since the party, but already it feels like months.
As Hattie and I hike up the stairs to our mom’s apartment, she stops on the landing, a little out of breath.
