Forget Me Read online

  She pulled into traffic and I turned my gaze to the window. My breath fogged the glass as I watched our town glide by. Not many outsiders wanted to move into River’s End, and I understood why. The rotting, empty buildings definitely gave off a sad vibe. But I’d spent my whole life here. The town had seeped into my bones and become part of who I was.

  Every intersection held a memory. The bowling alley where I’d had a few birthday parties was now boarded up, a faded Commercial Property For Sale sign tacked to the wood. Happy Time Mini Golf was overgrown, the paint on the small clubhouse peeling. I couldn’t even count how many summer afternoons I’d spent there, holding my club tightly, hoping for a hole-in-one, my hands sticky from a fast-melting ice-cream cone.

  Before I knew it, I’d reminisced myself out of town, through the next town, and then found myself glancing at an unfamiliar open field as we passed.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, coming out of my trance.

  Toni kept her voice light. “Littlefield.”

  I snapped my head toward her. “What?”

  “I just want to do a drive-by of Evan Murphy’s house. See where he lives. No pressure to knock or anything.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “How did you get his address?”

  “You think my brother’s the only one with skills?” She gasped in mock indignation.

  “He was publicly listed?” I guessed.

  She grinned. “Yeah.”

  “Thanks.” Okay, granted, all she did was type Murphy and Littlefield, MA, into her phone. But she did it for me. She took charge and drove because she knew I needed answers.

  “Don’t thank me yet. Let’s see what we find out.”

  The prospect of coming face-to-face with Evan and/or Flynn turned me into a giant rubber-band ball of stress. I’m not a spontaneous person. I like to think things through, plan every angle. Toni was my opposite in that regard, but it was probably why our friendship worked so well. We balanced each other out. Without her, I’d never leave the house. Without me, she’d have jumped off a bridge because she heard that someone else had done it.

  “I don’t know about this,” I said. “Maybe we should wait.”

  “We’re not doing anything,” she insisted. “Just driving by.”

  But I knew her. She’d never be satisfied with “just” driving by. She was only saying that so I wouldn’t chicken out. My fingers started to tremble as we turned left onto a residential road.

  I put my hands under my thighs. “How much longer?”

  Toni peeked at the GPS app on her phone. “We’re here.”

  I swallowed hard as the car rolled to a stop. My eyes traveled up a long driveway to a magnificent white house with three pillars at the center. My breath caught in my throat. Flynn—of the ratty trench coat and beat-up jeans—and this place? The two did not match.

  “It looks like your not-so-dead boyfriend is loaded,” Toni said.

  “Evan and Flynn have to be two different people,” I said quickly.

  She grinned mischievously. “There’s only one way to find out . . .”

  My stomach turned. I imagined myself strutting up to the door and banging my fist. What if his parents opened it? What if Evan was Flynn? What if he wasn’t? I wasn’t ready for this. I had to have a plan in case the boys were one and the same. And I needed a fake reason to talk to Evan in case they weren’t. This was moving too fast.

  But here was an opportunity, staring me in the face. Should I really pass it up to wait for a more perfect moment?

  I turned away from the house and rubbed my temples.

  Toni craned her neck. “The property is gated, but it looks like there’s an intercom button. We could pretend to be someone else.”

  She was already thinking logistics while I was still trying to talk myself into it.

  She let out a grunt of annoyance. “There’s no way to see if anyone’s home or not. There’s nothing in the driveway, but they have a three-car garage. Wait . . . someone’s coming down the street . . .”

  I looked up and saw another vehicle coming from the opposite direction. It rolled to an almost-stop, like they, too, were spying on the big house. Time seemed to slow. And then, after a moment’s hesitation, the engine roared back to life and it sped on.

  “That was weird,” Toni said.

  But I couldn’t respond. A trembling spread from my hands through my entire body.

  It was a black SUV.

  Exactly like the one that had killed Flynn.

  CHAPTER 6

  “So I realize I may have pushed you too far yesterday,” Toni said at lunch the next day.

  We sat at our usual table, the long one by the back wall, as far from the stench of steamed hot dogs as we could get. The same fading posters had hung on the wall for years, featuring past-their-prime celebrities reminding us to drink our milk. And a fluorescent light flickered and buzzed above us in its final death throes before burnout.

  I stabbed my salad with a plastic fork. “Whatever gave you that idea? My near-panic attack?”

  “Yeah, green’s not your color, girl.” Her voice softened. “Are you feeling better today?”

  After I’d seen the black SUV, I’d had a minor freakout and demanded that Toni drive us home. Along the way I explained why, shuddering at the memory of Flynn’s body in the road. She listened and sympathized, but also tried to talk some sense into me. Black SUVs were everywhere. Just because one slowed down in front of Evan/Flynn’s house, that didn’t mean anything.

  “I’m fine,” I said to her now. “Thanks to you, Miss Voice of Reason.”

  Brigid sat down beside me and ripped the top off her yogurt. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Toni accused of being a voice of reason before. Do tell.”

  I froze. I still wasn’t ready to explain any of this to our other friends.

  “It’s only for a history project,” Toni said. “Nothing exciting. And I’m sure Morgan will never use such slanderous words in reference to me again.”

  I forced a laugh. “So, Brigid. It’s Friday. Tell us what’s going on this weekend.” I figured if anything could slide Brigid toward a different conversation, it would be an offer to plan my social calendar.

  Predictably, she brightened. “Reece is having another flashlight party tomorrow night! We should go.”

  The last place I wanted to go was a party. I wanted to sit at home with my friend Google and try to figure this thing out.

  But Toni shot up straight in her seat. “Yes! Morgan, we should totally go to Reece’s party. He has cute friends.”

  Cute friends? What was she . . . Oh.

  “Hey, Morgan.” Jennifer tapped me on the shoulder. She had a checklist in her hand. This usually meant work, but I had nowhere to hide.

  “What’s up, Jennifer?” I asked.

  “Do you have all the team photos shot yet? We’re about to hit our deadline.”

  Jennifer was the editor in chief of our school yearbook. I took a lot of photos for them. Even though it didn’t pay, it was something I could put on my college applications.

  “I did all the teams except baseball,” I said.

  Brigid snorted, and Toni burst into laughter.

  “Really, guys?” I said, though I was giggling, too. “Get your minds out of the gutter.”

  Jennifer tapped her list impatiently. “Can you do the baseball team this afternoon?”

  Toni nearly fell off her chair.

  “Yes, I will take a team photo of the baseball guys after school,” I said, glaring at Toni.

  Jennifer left to bug the next person on her list. I was expecting another joke from Toni, but she’d turned serious.

  “Reece is on the baseball team,” she said.

  “So?” Brigid asked.

  Toni looked right at me. “So Morgan could find out if any of his cute friends are co
ming to the party . . .”

  • • •

  Luckily, the baseball team had a home game that afternoon, so they were in their uniforms. The coach told me I had five minutes to assemble them and get my picture before they had to be on the field. But it was like trying to round up bees. One would get a call on his cell and then two more would wander off in conversation.

  “Guys!” I yelled. “Come on. Just give me ten seconds and then you can go.”

  I tried to corral them in some kind of order—tallest standing in the back, shortest in the middle row, late people on their knees in the front. I took another step back to fit everyone in the frame. Perfect. Click.

  “Wait!” Another straggler ran up.

  I didn’t even try to hide my sigh of aggravation. “Kneel down in the front row.”

  I refocused and tried again. Click, click, click.

  I looked down at the display. New Guy had dropped his equipment bag on the ground, and part of it was in the shot. “One more,” I said.

  “Enough!” the coach growled. “We have to warm up for the game. Now.”

  I took a deep breath. In most areas of my life I was far from a perfectionist, but I took my photographs seriously. Especially the ones I took on my own, for my abandoned-places series. The yearbook photos didn’t have soul, but that didn’t mean I wanted them to look sloppy.

  It seemed I had no choice, though. I had only one minute left as the team grabbed their equipment, and I knew how I had to spend it.

  “Reece!” I called, jogging up to him.

  He pulled a brown leather baseball glove out of his bag and straightened. “Yeah?”

  I lowered my voice. “You’re having another flashlight party Saturday night?”

  He smiled as he glanced left and right. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’ll send out a text chain with the address around eight that night. Are you and Toni coming?”

  I noticed the hopeful edge to his question. “That depends,” I answered.

  He gave me a wary look. “On what?”

  “Can you get your friend Evan Murphy to come?”

  “Does Morgan have an online crush?” he teased with a wry smirk.

  I crossed my arms. “Can you get him to come or not?”

  He sighed. “I haven’t seen that guy in two years.”

  “So it’s time to catch up,” I suggested.

  Reece shook his head. “I don’t usually invite random dudes on FriendShare to my parties.” But then he paused. “How about a trade? I’ll get Evan to come to the party . . . if you get Toni to go on a date with me.”

  I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Well, um, yeah, you can hang with her at the party.”

  “No. A date.”

  “I don’t think she’d be interested,” I said quickly.

  “Just dinner.”

  “I’m sorry, Reece. I think you’re out of luck.”

  He shrugged. “Then so are you.”

  • • •

  “I’m not a prostitute!” Toni yelled. We were sitting in my room later that afternoon, listening to music, our books spread out on the floor around us.

  “It’s just dinner,” I said. “He’ll take you to Macaroni’s. You can get your favorite chicken parm.”

  “I’m not a chicken parm prostitute either!”

  “Please. I’ll . . . I’ll even come with you. We’ll negotiate that into the deal.” I pressed my hands together and gave her a pitifully desperate look. “I just really need Reece to get Evan to this party. I need to see him with my own eyes.”

  Toni groaned and tossed an eraser at my face. “I’m the bestest best friend you’ll ever have. Better than best.”

  “You are.”

  “And I’m getting dessert.”

  “Two if you like.”

  “And I now have a ‘you owe me one’ that will never expire, to use at my discretion.”

  “Okay, maybe I’m starting to regret this.”

  She launched a notebook at my head.

  • • •

  The houses on my road were all the same—medium-sized colonials, in shades of white and beige, with attached one-car garages. When giving directions, we clung to whatever identifying characteristics we could. The one after the one with the basketball hoop in the driveway. The one with the rosebush by the front door.

  I kind of preferred Toni’s street. The houses weren’t all built at the same time and the styles varied. There was a split-level next to a sprawling ranch next to a Victorian. Toni’s house was a pretty ranch with an in-ground pool and a huge backyard. Toni, Cooper, and I had spent so many summer afternoons playing wiffle ball in that yard, until we were covered in sweat, and then cannonballing into the pool, squealing and laughing. But last summer the pool needed a repair, and that particular expense was not high on the priority list. The cover stayed on, collecting leaves and small puddles of dirty water.

  I got to Toni’s house after dinner Saturday, with plenty of time to get ready for the party together. I parked in the driveway and walked toward the front door. A weather-beaten For Sale sign stood crookedly in their front yard, the same place it had been for the past year. But Toni said it was hopeless. The house was worth only half of what her parents had paid for it. So even if someone actually wanted to move into River’s End, their offer would never be enough for her parents to pay off the loan and get a new place somewhere else. Plus, there were always more than fifty other houses for sale in town as well. At first, Toni had been worried about moving to another town. Now she worried about worse things—like the bank taking the house.

  I raised my hand to knock, but before I had a chance, the door whipped open. I backed up a step, my fist still in the air. Cooper, holding a finger to his lips, pulled me inside and closed the door behind us. My eyes took in the mess of the living room. Papers were tossed on the floor. Mr. Klane was asleep on the sofa, one hand dangling off the cushion. A short glass sat on the coffee table, filled with something that looked like apple juice but surely wasn’t. A smash came from the kitchen.

  “Mom’s still pissed about a fight they had earlier,” Cooper whispered. “Can you drive to the party? I don’t want to leave a car there. Diana’s coming, and we’re going to spend the night back at her dorm.”

  “She’s coming to the party?” I asked, surprised. Ever since she graduated, Cooper’s girlfriend acted like she was too good for River’s End.

  “Of course not,” Cooper said. “She’s just picking me up.”

  That made more sense.

  “It hasn’t been the best day here. Um, can you make sure Toni . . .” He looked around, like he didn’t want anyone to hear.

  “I’ll have her sleep at my house tonight.”

  He let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

  My heart went out to him. He was so protective of his little sister. He never wanted to leave her home alone when things were exploding between their parents. I often wondered what would happen in the fall when he was gone for good.

  A shuffling of footsteps came from the kitchen. “Oh, it’s you,” Mrs. Klane said. There was a strange edge to her tone. She leaned against the doorway, looking me over. “How are your parents?”

  The question was innocent enough, but there was an undercurrent to it that made me uncomfortable. “They’re fine,” I said. “Thanks for asking.”

  She wordlessly returned to the kitchen and loudly threw something into the sink.

  When Toni and I were little, our parents were coworkers and best friends. After Stell went down, so did their friendship. At first, things drifted to a polite civility when dropping Toni off, or vice versa. Then, when Toni and I were old enough to arrange our own playdates, our families just ignored each other. My parents seemed wary of Toni’s. I knew it was the alcohol. They mentioned that they didn’t like me “in that environment.”
And it was obvious that Toni’s parents held some bitterness against mine as well. Maybe because my family still had our heads above water?

  Cooper led me down the hallway toward Toni’s room.

  Toni’s door cracked open, and she poked her face out. “I thought I heard you,” she said, and waved me inside.

  I glanced over my shoulder as Cooper retreated into his bedroom.

  Toni closed the door behind us. Her room smelled like nail polish and perfume. As usual, her bed was made, her desk chair pushed in, books neatly stacked. Even her shoes were perfectly lined up at the bottom of her closet, two by two. Her room was always clean and organized, in stark contrast to the rest of the house.

  She pressed a button on the speaker and turned on some music, an old Florence + The Machine song. She bopped around the room, singing the lyrics. Her dad was passed out on the couch and her mom was smashing things in the kitchen, but apparently she didn’t want to talk about it. And that was fine.

  I glanced down at my phone and scrolled through the text messages. No address for the party yet.

  “How do The Pointer Sisters look?” Toni asked.

  That was what she lovingly called her boobs. Toni wasn’t just petite, she was small in every way. She needed a size A-minus bra, but since they didn’t make those, she just bought the kind that pushes what little you have up and together.

  “They look great,” I said, keeping my eyes on my phone.

  “You didn’t even look.”

  I glanced up. Toni had her hands on her hips, pouting. She wore black pants, a tight red top, and heels that brought her up to five foot three.

  “They look fantastic. Boobalicious.”

  “What are you wearing?” she asked.

  I slid the phone into my back pocket and struck a model pose. “This.”

  Toni looked at me like one of my limbs had just fallen off. “You can’t be serious.”

  I looked down at my jeans-and-hoodie ensemble. “I’m not going to this party to pick up a new guy. I’m going so I can find out if my old one is actually dead.”

  “And don’t you want to look your best in that ‘gotcha’ moment?”