the hospital.” It was obvious, so a stupid remark, but Fletcher smiled anyway.
“Yeah, they released me this morning.”
“And you decided the best thing for your recovery was a midnight walk over to my place?”
Fletcher snorted. “It’s barely ten and ‘your place’ is around the corner. Not exactly a cross-country trek, Ave.”
Ave . No one had called her Ave in at least a year.
“So?” Avery raised her eyebrows.
“I just had to get out of the house. My mom was hovering, staring at me. I’d fall asleep with her watching me, and when I’d wake up, she’d still be watching me.”
“Creepy.”
“Yeah, I guess she thinks this dude is going to come to finish me off or something.” He shuddered.
Avery was quiet for a moment, and then she asked, “Do you remember who did this to you?”
His lips pursed and his forehead wrinkled. She could tell that he was searching for a word or a memory.
Fletcher shook his head. “I don’t remember anything.”
They walked to the end of the block in companionable silence, then continued toward the baseball diamond. Finally, Fletcher cleared his throat.
“Did you get the flowers?”
“I got tons of flowers. I don’t know why though. I didn’t do anything.”
“No. From me. I-I sent you flowers. You know, just to say thanks.” Even in the darkness she could see that he was blushing, a fierce red that went up to his ears. “I mean, it’s no big deal. Not you finding me, the flowers. The flowers—they are not a big deal. You know, just to say thanks.”
“There were a couple of bunches on the front steps when we got home tonight. To be honest, I hadn’t read the cards yet.”
“That’s cool.”
There was another beat of awkward quiet, just the sound of their shoes crunching the dirt over the diamond.
“Remember at the hospital when I asked you what you think happens when we die?”
Avery stopped, the breath snatched from her chest. “Yeah.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it. I try not to, but…do you think people go somewhere immediately? Or do they—do they maybe hang around? Unfinished business and all that.”
Avery had considered the same question every day, what felt like every moment, for months after her mother died. She pored over texts and the Bible and did Internet searches on every myth and legend and belief possible. Not one gave her a solid answer. Not one gave her enough satisfaction to feel peace, to feel whole again.
She shrugged.
Fletch seemed to drop the subject and smiled, rolling his head back to look at the sky. “It’s kind of nice out here right now. No one but us, you know?”
Avery huffed a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re already getting tired of your adoring fans.”
A stitch of pain crossed Fletcher’s face and Avery felt guilty. “I didn’t mean that—”
“No”—Fletcher shrugged her off—“I know it’s weird. People act like I’m some kind of hero because I survived.”
“Well, you escaped. And because of that, we were able to find Adam.”
He shook his head. “Fat lot of good that did.”
“But…you are alive. Which means there is a better chance the police can catch this guy. You know, because you’re a witness and stuff.”
Fletcher loosened a rock with the toe of his sneaker, then picked it up, rolling it in the palm of his “good” hand. “Did I already say, ‘Fat lot of good that did’? I can’t remember worth shit.”
“It’ll come back,” Avery said, awkwardly patting his elbow. She had never really touched Fletcher before. Or any boy, for that matter. They were casual friends who greeted each other with a head nod, and that was it.
Fletcher asked, “People treated you different after your mom died, right?”
Avery pinched her lips together and looked off in the distance. “Well, yeah. I mean, at first it was, ‘I’m so sorry,’ and after a while it was, ‘Aren’t you over that yet?’” There was an edge of anger in her voice.
“When did people
“Yeah, they released me this morning.”
“And you decided the best thing for your recovery was a midnight walk over to my place?”
Fletcher snorted. “It’s barely ten and ‘your place’ is around the corner. Not exactly a cross-country trek, Ave.”
Ave . No one had called her Ave in at least a year.
“So?” Avery raised her eyebrows.
“I just had to get out of the house. My mom was hovering, staring at me. I’d fall asleep with her watching me, and when I’d wake up, she’d still be watching me.”
“Creepy.”
“Yeah, I guess she thinks this dude is going to come to finish me off or something.” He shuddered.
Avery was quiet for a moment, and then she asked, “Do you remember who did this to you?”
His lips pursed and his forehead wrinkled. She could tell that he was searching for a word or a memory.
Fletcher shook his head. “I don’t remember anything.”
They walked to the end of the block in companionable silence, then continued toward the baseball diamond. Finally, Fletcher cleared his throat.
“Did you get the flowers?”
“I got tons of flowers. I don’t know why though. I didn’t do anything.”
“No. From me. I-I sent you flowers. You know, just to say thanks.” Even in the darkness she could see that he was blushing, a fierce red that went up to his ears. “I mean, it’s no big deal. Not you finding me, the flowers. The flowers—they are not a big deal. You know, just to say thanks.”
“There were a couple of bunches on the front steps when we got home tonight. To be honest, I hadn’t read the cards yet.”
“That’s cool.”
There was another beat of awkward quiet, just the sound of their shoes crunching the dirt over the diamond.
“Remember at the hospital when I asked you what you think happens when we die?”
Avery stopped, the breath snatched from her chest. “Yeah.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it. I try not to, but…do you think people go somewhere immediately? Or do they—do they maybe hang around? Unfinished business and all that.”
Avery had considered the same question every day, what felt like every moment, for months after her mother died. She pored over texts and the Bible and did Internet searches on every myth and legend and belief possible. Not one gave her a solid answer. Not one gave her enough satisfaction to feel peace, to feel whole again.
She shrugged.
Fletch seemed to drop the subject and smiled, rolling his head back to look at the sky. “It’s kind of nice out here right now. No one but us, you know?”
Avery huffed a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re already getting tired of your adoring fans.”
A stitch of pain crossed Fletcher’s face and Avery felt guilty. “I didn’t mean that—”
“No”—Fletcher shrugged her off—“I know it’s weird. People act like I’m some kind of hero because I survived.”
“Well, you escaped. And because of that, we were able to find Adam.”
He shook his head. “Fat lot of good that did.”
“But…you are alive. Which means there is a better chance the police can catch this guy. You know, because you’re a witness and stuff.”
Fletcher loosened a rock with the toe of his sneaker, then picked it up, rolling it in the palm of his “good” hand. “Did I already say, ‘Fat lot of good that did’? I can’t remember worth shit.”
“It’ll come back,” Avery said, awkwardly patting his elbow. She had never really touched Fletcher before. Or any boy, for that matter. They were casual friends who greeted each other with a head nod, and that was it.
Fletcher asked, “People treated you different after your mom died, right?”
Avery pinched her lips together and looked off in the distance. “Well, yeah. I mean, at first it was, ‘I’m so sorry,’ and after a while it was, ‘Aren’t you over that yet?’” There was an edge of anger in her voice.
“When did people
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