Free The Hidden by Jessica Verday Page B

toward the wrought iron bench that sat against the wall nearest me. Shrugging off my book bag along the way, I replied, “It was fine.”
    He came and sat next to me.
    “They put us all on lockdown for half the day because a car backfired outside and someone thought it was shots being fired. But other than that, nothing exciting.”
    I leaned forward and let my head hang down, hair cascading around my hands. Scrunching up my fingers, I gently massaged my scalp. “They reassigned Kristen’s locker to a new girl,” I said quietly. “Cyn.”
    “How was she?” he asked.
    “She was nice, I guess. But she thought Kristen was still alive because I mentioned it being her locker.”
    “Awkward.”
    “Yeah.”
    Caspian got up for a minute, and when he returned, there was something behind his back. “Speaking of …”
    He held out a drawing to me.
    It was Kristen. A drawing of Kristen. In her favorite red corset shirt and hippie-style jeans.
    “How did you …?” I said.
    “I saw you guys in the cemetery last year. This is what she wore, right?”
    I nodded and took the drawing from him, stroking the outline of her face. Cheekbones, jawline, eyes … Everything was right. Even in her black-and-white world, he had capturedKristen’s vivacity. It was there, in the slight tilt of her chin, the excited look in her eyes, the way she stood. Happy and ready to experience anything.
    “It’s beautiful, Caspian,” I said. “Absolutely beautiful. It’s her. She’s here. Now she’s always here.”
    And then I burst into tears. Huge, racking sobs that rolled and shuddered through my body.
    “Hey,” Caspian said. “Hey, Astrid. It’s okay. Don’t …”
    He moved closer, but he couldn’t hold me. Couldn’t put his arms around me, or move my hair back away from my face. Instead he just did the best thing he could. He let me cry.
    “I can’t believe she’s really gone,” I said through my tears. “It was my first day … alone … and her locker …” I cried harder. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t be me without her. I don’t know who I am … or what I am. I’m empty. Just a shell.”
    Caspian leaned in close to my ear. His voice was low and soft. I had to slow my breathing to catch what he was saying. “You’re
not
empty. You’re strong and smart and talented, Abbey. Kristen will always be with you, but she’s not
who
you are. You’re Abbey. Just Abbey. Without Kristen, yes, but that’s okay. That’s what makes you unique.”
    I gripped the drawing and looked up at him. “Kiss me,” Isaid suddenly. Desperately. “Please. Please, somehow … just find a way to kiss me.”
    Sorrow filled his eyes. And heartbreak echoed in his voice. “I’m sorry, love. I can’t.”
    Sighing, I leaned back against the bench. Defeat made me weary. Every bone in my body was tired. This was so hard. … “I know,” I said softly.
    We sat in silence for a while, in that close space with death surrounding us, until he said, “Tell me your best memory of her.”
    But I couldn’t choose just one. So I talked until I couldn’t remember any more.
    The next day was better. And worse. Caspian took me to a movie to try to cheer me up. Of course there wasn’t any popcorn sharing or make-out sessions during the boring parts, but for two hours I got to pretend to be
almost
normal.
    It was all just a dream, though. A fantasy. Gone as soon as the credits rolled and the lights came on.
    “I bet they don’t even realize how lucky they are,” I said under my breath, glancing back as we walked out of the theater and passed a particularly obnoxious girl who was swallowing her boyfriend’s tongue. “They have no
idea
how much they take for granted.”
    We walked past another couple who looked like they weretwo seconds away from public nudity. “Get a room,” I growled.
    The girl looked up at me and glared, which just made me madder. “Jealous?” she sneered.
    Ignoring her, I kept walking. But I couldn’t keep my mouth