“For what it’s worth,” he adds quickly andsolemnly, “I never thought you were going to hurt Ryan, you reallyare the only one who’s ever loved him right.” Sean’s words rattleme straight to the core, because they sound like a goodbye. Then hebolts.
Damn it.
I dart after him through the long, narrowkitchen and out the back door where the sun is setting like a dyingfireball behind dull, ashy clouds. He’s so goddamn fast,maneuvering effortlessly through the back yard that’s scatteredwith old tires and junk. He scales the six-foot chain link fence atthe back end of the property and I know then that I’ve losthim.
“Sean!”I shout slapping the fencewith my palms, the links jingling and clinking, “Sean, comeback!”
But he quickly disappears out of sight.
“Shit!” I scream, shaking the fencefuriously. Then, hopeless and defeated, I sink down onto the coldground, and all I want to do is fucking cry.
I drive back to my uncle’s house in a daze.All I keep seeing are Sean’s dull, sorrowful eyes. They may be thesame shape and color as Ryan’s, but they’re nowhere near alike;Sean’s eyes are haunted, dim and void of any light.
I pull into the driveway, a red and purplestone path that leads up to the massive brick house. I park Emily’scar next to my uncle’s black Mercedes truck and stare straightahead.
I step out of the car and into the frostyJanuary evening. It smells like snow and the temperature is so lowit’s cutting right through my clothes.
I walk sluggishly to the front door, but stopwhen I get to the stone stairs. I sit down and drop my head into myhands, shivering in the cold. Then the snowflakes begin to fall;big, wet crystals that shower heavily out of the sky. I look up andlet them hit my face, flooding my eyes with the tears I can’t cry.I try to force the emotions out, but the swell just won’t come.Soon, my clothes are wet and my hair is covered in sparklingflakes, but I just can’t bring myself to move.
“Alana?” I hear my uncle’s voice behind me. Iturn around; cold wet snow dotting my face. “What are you doing outhere honey?”
“Trying to cry.”
“What? Why?” He grabs two jackets and comesoutside to sit next to me. He throws a big puffy coat around me,and then snuggles up to my side; the snow pelting down harder onour faces.
“Because I can’t. I haven’t cried since thatChristmas mom died. And all I want is to feel better, but I can’tcry.” I wipe some snow away from my cheek with my sleeve.
My uncle looks at me with a contriteexpression. “Alana, do you know why you can’t cry?”
I shake my head, no.
“Because you’re too strong.”
“I’m not strong,” I dispute. “I couldn’t evenhelp Ryan.”
“You’re helping him by being there forhim.”
“That’s not helping him. Helping him would’vebeen me convincing Sean to help him.”
“You found Sean?”
“Sort of,” I pull out the now-damp piece ofpaper from my pocket with the address on it, “He ran when Iconfronted him.”
My uncle takes the piece of paper and glancesdown at the address, “Alana, this is one of the worst neighborhoodsin Asbury.”
“I’m a total badass,” I say dejectedly.
“Dumb-ass maybe,” my uncle jokingly contests,“but it does establish one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Truth. Whether you believe it or not, you’restrong.”
I look up at my uncle with chattering teethand woeful eyes. “Uncle John,” I say direly, “I’m really tired ofbeing strong.”
“I know honey.” He puts his arm around me andI rest my head on his big chest, “But I’m going to help.”
“How?”