“No,” I say. “I know what I saw. I know what you do, what he wants. So, Sean was working before you came—”

Mel stands next to me and cuts me off. “Cut the crap, Avery. You know the truth. You see it. Nothing happened here. If it did, you know that man wouldn’t be thinking a logical thought for the rest of the night. Besides, I still smell like a spring daisy.” Mel lifts her arm and shoves her armpit in my face. “Sniff.”

I swat at her and step away. “Stop it, Mel.” I don’t want to believe her, but I smell her deodorant and her perfume is still there. It’s not mingled with sweat. She didn’t shower. I finally see it, and the thought sinks in slowly.

Nothing happened here.

My mind knows, but my heart is stuck. I can’t let it go. I don’t know what to do. I stand there, staring. I don’t look at Sean. I know what he looks like. I know how good he smells. His scent hit me hard in the stairwell. I know his after-sex scent and that’s not it. My eyes move across the room, searching for any indication of sexual activity, but there isn’t anything. It looks like Sean’s been working and Mel’s been eating.

Mel leans against the wall and folds her arms across her chest again. She glances at Sean and then back at me. “Avery?” I don’t answer. “Say something.”

I feel like I’ve been sucked into the center of a maze. I can’t find my way out. Exhaustion, fear, and humiliation are all vying to dominate me. It’s like having cymbals banging into the sides of my head over and over again. I’m ready to collapse. Every ounce of energy I had is gone.

Swallowing hard, I turn to her and pick at the only bone I can find. There’s too much emotion and no release. I can’t deflate. I need to fight. “You should have told me. Black gave you his information days ago. You should have said something to me!”

For the first time, Mel looks awkward. “I wanted to, but I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell Black no and—”

My pointer finger is in her face. “You still should have told me. I can’t take this, Mel. I can’t. I don’t know how you do it, but I can’t.” I shut my mouth and shake my head. I can’t talk to her. I can’t face Sean. It’s too much.

“I have to go.” My emotions are fried. I don’t trust myself anymore, and I can’t do this. I’m out the door before they can say another word, and this time no one follows me.

CHAPTER 2

It’s so damn late, but I can’t go home. I don’t want to see Mel at the dorm, and I sure as hell can’t tolerate Amber right now. Before I realize where I’m going, I’m wandering through Penn Station and boarding a train. Now, my head is tipped to the side against the window. There are a few other people scattered through the train car. For a long time, I just sit there and stare out the window, watching the world whip past in a blur of colored lights.

Numbness is consuming me. My phone is clutched in my hand. I flick it to life and dial. Marty answers, half asleep. “Vavery?” He yawns. I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I hear Marty sit up. “What’s the matter?”

“Hey,” I manage.

“Where are you?”

“On the train.” My voice is too soft. It catches in my throat and I think about hanging up. The lights inside the train flicker and everything goes dark for a second before they blink back on. I stare at the houses crammed so close together, wondering about the people who live in them. I thought that would be my life. I thought I’d be in one of those houses one day. Things weren’t supposed to go this way. My throat is so tight, so dry.

Marty is quiet for a second. He must stand, because I hear his mattress creak. “Taking a joyride?”

“Something like that.”

The speaker crackles to life and announces the next stop. Marty must hear it because he says, “You’re at Babylon, babe. You passed your stop.”

“I’m not going home.”

“Then, where are you going?”

I take too long to reply. I breathe, “I don’t know.”

The train slows as it approaches the platform. Marty’s talking again. “Avery, get off the train and I’ll come get you, okay?”

I don’t answer. I look out the window at the parking lot. Unbidden memories flash behind my eyes like they’re happening now. I see my parents park their car and take my small hands, as we walk toward the station. I’m four years old and smiling. They tell me about the play we’re going to see in the city, and that there will be music and dancing. I can’t stop smiling. They swing me between them. I laugh as my little feet kick in the air. Marty speaks and the memory shatters—he doesn’t know what this place does to me.

“Avery? Did the train stop?”

“Yes.”

“Get off. Go downstairs and wait for me. I’m already in my car. Did you get off the train?”

The night air chills my skin and I realize I’ve already exited the train. If I didn’t call Marty, I might have passed this place without getting off. The platform is high, it’s taller than the trees. I can see the school below and a parking lot that’s mostly empty. The wind whips past me, tugging my hair as it blows. My red dress does little to keep me warm.

“I’m outside. I’m fine Marty. I’m sorry I called you.” I’m staring like I’m lost in a dream.

More memories surface: Argyle Lake and winters with silver skates. Recollections of my Dad jumping up and down on the ice, telling me to come out, that it’s safe. I was so afraid back then, but my parents made me feel safe. They chased away the monsters.

I wrap my arms around my middle. A guy walks past me and gives me a once over as he heads toward the staircase. My make-up is probably smeared all over my face.

I hear Marty’s car start and realize he’s talking to me. “…can call me anytime. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” I nod and hit END CALL.

My red dress draws attention, but the expression on my face keeps people away. I walk down the stairs and fold my arms over my chest. I try to wait for Marty, and pace inside the lobby of the station. I look at the benches, at the seats, and more memories pound into me. I can’t stand it. It’s like opening Pandora’s box. There’s no way to let one recollection slip past without summoning ten more. This place brings them back. And, it’s not just the pictures and faces—I feel the hugs and distant laugher caress me lightly. It’s as if I’ve been touched by a ghost.

That’s it. I can’t wait. I can’t stay here. I turn quickly and push out the front door. I head down the sidewalk and I don’t think about where I’m going. I don’t think about anything. I’m not sure how much time passes when my phone rings again. I look at the screen and see a picture of Marty’s smiling face with his 80’s flipped collar and spike hair.

“Hey,” I say after answering.

“Where are you? I’m in the station, but you’re not here.” Worry laces through his words.

I feel bad for making him worry. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stay there. I’m walking on Locust.” I’m not far from the station. The truth is, once I left the building, there was only one place to go.

“I’ll be right there.” Marty hangs up.

I keep my phone in my hand and look at the houses. I stop in front of one and stare. A single sidewalk leads to the front door of a little Cape Cod style house. It’s still the same pale yellow color as it was when we lived there. The tree in the side yard still has my tire swing from when I was a kid. It moves in the breeze, gently swinging. I glance at my old window, and then to my parent’s window.

My gut twists, tying itself in knots too tight to bear. I clutch my stomach and sit down hard on the curb. I press my fingers to my temples and lower my head to my knees.

Breathe, Avery. Just breathe. It’s my mother’s voice. I hear it in my mind like she’s really here, but I know she’s not. I realize I can no longer remember the exact sound of her voice. It’s a shadow now, missing the inflections that she had. A sob creeps up my throat and strangles me. I sit there like that for too long, lost in the past.

Headlights finally illuminate the street in two wide beams. I don’t look up. Marty steps out of his car and hurries toward me. “Are you all right?”

I shake my head. I can’t look at him. I can’t tell him what I did with Henry. I hate myself. I hate what I’ve become. I don’t want to relive anything about tonight. I don’t want to tell him about Mel and Sean. Just thinking about it makes the panic return.

Marty holds out his hands. I take them and he pulls me up. I fall into his chest and he folds his arms around me. He kisses my forehead and says, “Bad night?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then, don’t. Come on. Let’s get out of here before we get shot.”

CHAPTER 3

The next morning I rub my eyes and roll over. My head is pounding. The bed beneath me creaks and I realize where I am. I feel the supple sheets and Marty’s scent fills my head. I push up on my elbows and look around the room. Last night is a blur of tears and regret. Going to Babylon was a mistake. I figured I already had my heart ripped out of my chest. I didn’t think I could make it worse. I was wrong.

“Hey lazy bones.” Marty is wearing a pair of lacrosse shorts and no shirt. His hair is rumpled, but other than that he looks normal. There’s no trace of a late night under his eyes.

“Hey.” I look down at my clothes. I’m wearing one of Marty’s old tee shirts. My red dress isn’t in sight. Neither is my bra. I threw them on the floor last night and collapsed on the bed. “I feel like I was comatose. God…” I rub my head. It’s still throbbing.

“Hang over?” Marty is sitting at the kitchen counter across from me. He has an efficiency apartment, which means his bedroom is in his living room. I can see the entire apartment. I haven’t been over here much. It’s decorated nicely, but not as nicely as he decorated my dorm room. I shove the thought aside even though something seems out of place.