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roman-writing · 3 years

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bring home a haunting (10/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 18,021

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

Author’s notes: you’ll notice that we’ve stopped updating weekly. This is due to the fact that we’ve run out of backlogged material and are now writing in real time. Thank you for your patience with the final few updates.

read it below or read it on AO3 here

X: 1978-1983

—

The summer air was a warm suggestion of a breeze. The curtains trembled slightly in its passing, just a feeble stir that could not quell even the muted birdsong of robins. A bedroom awash in late afternoon sunlight that softened the wooden furniture and the textured wallpaper until everything was steeped to the same pastel shade of the bedsheets.

Dani sat in the chair before her cramped writing desk. It was too small to do any real work, but it was the only thing she could fit into this room – her own space – without her mother complaining. Most days it was used for little more than picture frames, curios, and stacks of clean laundry waiting to be tucked away into drawers, neat and soldierly. Today she had cleared a space and placed on it a blank sheet of paper, a pen, and an envelope with no address.

The heat was such that the back of Dani’s thighs stuck to the wooden chair when she shifted in her seat. She folded her heel atop the chair so she could rest her chin against her knee and stare at the sheet of paper. She chewed at the edge of her thumbnail until the skin there was raised and red and ragged, until she tasted the tang of copper, until she had to tuck her thumb away behind a closed fist and press her knuckles to her mouth.

The summer days were long and mercifully empty. No assignments. School wouldn’t start again for another month. No mother. Karen was out at some work function and had elected to leave Dani behind for once. No obligations. Nowhere to be. Nothing but the slow whittling away of minutes, of hours, of walking down the warm familiar streets and feeling the cold notion wash over her that she had let another day slip away.

Taking her courage into her hands, Dani picked up the pen. She held it over the page, as if in the vain hope her thoughts could flow from the tip of the pen without her input. She sat up straight, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, began to write.

‘Dear Jamie –’

—

The sharp edges of the walkie talkie dug into her palm as she gripped it with white knuckles. Vestiges of a dream still hovered over her, just as the pale suggestion of diffused moonlight shone through her curtains. Her thumb hesitated over the press-to-talk button, still curled into the same tangle of limbs and sheets she had woken up in, her breath now back to normal from the shallow gasping that had felt like drowning. Usually, there was a comfort in knowing that Eddie was a creature of routine. In bed by eleven, but asleep by twelve after sneaking in another hour of reading. But looking at her bedside clock now, red numbers blinking the witching hour in the dark, deftly ignoring the photo frame just beside it, Dani wavered, knowing he’d be asleep by now.

Hearing the distant sounds of the television still going through the floor, the hum of the box fan — her mother asleep or awake, she couldn’t really care — Dani exhaled a slow trembling breath, and pressed down on the button.

“Eddie?” Dani murmured softly. She waited for a long moment, pressing her forehead against the plastic, but when he didn’t respond, she swallowed hard and repeated, “Eddie? Are you there?”

She grimaced at the poor word choice, but kept silent, waiting. In the long stretch of silence, she let her eyes slip closed, her throat feeling thick. She sighed and whispered again, “Eddie?” feeling as though she was calling through some distant veil.

There was still no response. Just as resignation was settling heavy in her chest, exhaustion pressing on her eyelids, static buzzed through the speakers. “Danielle?” came a heavy, sleep-ridden voice.

“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - go back to sleep. It’s fine.”

“Are you okay?” Eddie murmured, along with the sound of shuffling fabric. Dani remained silent, worrying her lower lip, guilt whorling in her stomach. When she didn’t respond, Eddie spoke again, sounding slightly more awake, but no less gruff. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I - um. I just - “

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that.”

He was silent for a moment, and carefully asked, “Another nightmare?”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

“Do you want to talk about it this time?”

Against her will, before she could even stop herself, Dani’s eyes darted to the photo frame. To Jamie’s broad smile, to her younger self clinging on to Jamie’s back as Jamie held her up in a piggyback. Her breath catching in her throat, Dani blinked and turned on her back to stare fixedly at the streaks of moonlight stretching along her ceiling like slim, ghostly fingers.

“No,” Dani murmured, pressing a palm to her eyes to banish the burning there, “I just - I wanted to hear your voice.”

Eddie hummed, as though half asleep already. “Won’t your mom hear?”

“She’s downstairs.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, the static dropping quiet briefly, but quickly returned along with the new sound of ruffling paper, “Want me to read aloud again?”

Biting back the embarrassment burning her cheeks, Dani murmured, “Please?”

Chuckling softly, Eddie said, “Are you up for some Lord of the Rings, or something else?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Lord of the Rings it is,” Eddie murmured, and then quietly began to recite from where they had left off last time.

Dani slipped her eyes shut again as she listened, resting the walkie talkie against her chest. For however much she tried, for how many times Eddie had asked for her thoughts on one plot point or another, Dani for the life of her could never remember a single passage the morning after. It was never about the story, nor was it simply just listening to Eddie’s sleep-roughened voice for all the comfort it gave her. If she could shut her eyes, and leave the walkie talkie on the pillow beside her head, she could almost imagine it. Eddie lying beside her, with her head on his shoulder, and for a second she could pretend he smelled of sandalwood instead of sharp soap, the fabric under cheek flannel instead of a woolen sweater, and —

It wasn’t the same. It’d never be the same. Not with guilt burning like acid in her stomach, not with her chest feeling so heavy and tight. Drawing in a low breath, Dani slowly peeled herself away from her too warm comforter and off her bed to pad quietly towards her open window, keeping the walkie talkie close to her chest. She slipped through her thin curtains that danced in a slight breeze and leaned her elbows on the windowsill, resting her chin on her arm as she looked out into the night of her backyard.

Beneath the low tones of Eddie’s voice, there was the sound of crickets and the whisper of a warm breeze. The neighborhood was dark but for the glow of distant streetlamps and the gleam of the moon and starlight. And just there in the far distance, a plane blinked red and white lights as it passed far overhead in the dark sky like a manmade shooting star. Maybe if it were a few months ago, maybe then she would have pressed her eyes shut and made a silly, small wish. Top marks on her next test. A new dress for her birthday. Her favorite meal for dinner. But her wishes seemed too big these days. Too large to fit in the palm of her hands. Words that felt more like prayer on her tongue.

Sighing softly, Dani’s gaze drifted slowly towards the tree with it’s thick trunk and long limbs that stretched towards her window, leaves ruffling softly. Eddie was still murmuring diligently, reciting some passage that happened to be some poem or song.

“He sought her ever, wandering far where leaves of years were thickly strewn. By light of moon and ray of star, in frosty heavens shivering. Her ma — “

“Eddie?” Dani interrupted softly.

Eddie fumbled over the words. “Yeah?”

“Do you still know how to climb trees?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “Sure. Yeah. I mean - I haven’t tried since Tommy dared me years ago, so I guess?”

“Do you think,” Dani started slowly, “that you could climb the one in my backyard?”

“Probably.”

“Would you?”

“What - like - right now?”

“No, I - I - ” Dani stumbled, and swallowed thickly.

“Danielle,” Eddie sighed, and there was the sound of a book being shut, “It’s late. I’m tired. I don’t really feel like risking breaking my neck right now, or your mom catching me. I don’t know which is worse, honestly.”

His voice was starting to trail off in a lethargic slur before letting out a long yawn, and Dani bit back again the guilt that gnawed viciously through her chest.

“Sorry, I - “ Dani said, standing upright, shoulders rigid, “I didn’t mean to keep you. Go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked in a sleepy murmur, “You were upset.”

“I’m fine,” Dani lied, “I’m fine now. I promise.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathed, “Night, Danielle.”

“Good night.”

There came then a long silence. Suffocatingly empty, as though all the air had been drawn from her room. She exhaled slowly, a trembling breath that rattled through her teeth. Leaving the walkie talkie on her nightstand, she crawled back into bed, curling up back into a ball with her knees to her chest and let her heavy eyes be drawn back to the photo. Clenching her teeth hard, she shut her eyes where the memories of that day pressed against her eyelids as though it were a film reel, lulling her back into a restless sleep.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Last night I dreamt you climbed up through my window sill. You held out your hand and said to come with you, as though you were Peter Pan and I was Wendy. I remember wanting to laugh, I think. I almost expected you to be wearing that outfit and that hat, but you were just you. Smiling at me. That’s all I remember really.

I don’t think you ever knew how much that meant to me. That time you climbed up my window for real. Just to be here for me when I needed you without ever having to tell you. I think that’s one of the things I’m going to miss the most, how I never had to ask or say anything. You somehow always just seemed to know. I don’t think anyone was ever as good at it as you were. Except for Carson, maybe.

Are you okay? Is Mikey? Are you eating enough? Is it getting any easier? I can’t stop thinking about it, how tired you looked when I last saw you. I keep thinking of all our time together and how we wasted so much of it at the end. I should have visited more, maybe. I should have tried harder to talk to you, to help, no matter how upset you got with me. I’m sorry.

I wonder where you are now, where they took you and Mikey. Are you still in Iowa? Sometimes I like to imagine you on a beach somewhere, or in the mountains like you always wanted to see. I like imagining myself there with you, too. Mostly, I like to imagine you back here again.

It’s getting harder, not having you here. Mom kept saying the most terrible things after you were gone that I won’t repeat here; it’ll just raise your blood pressure. Eddie tries to help, and I love him, but he’s always been scared of mom and I don’t think he knows how to deal with something like this. With losing so much all at once. The only thing he’s ever really lost was the baseball state championship. Judy does her best though, and so does Carson, but they don’t really talk about it. They miss you a lot. They don’t need to say it, but I can see it.

I don’t know if you’ll ever get these letters. Most of the time it feels like I’m just addressing the side of my bed where you used to sleep when you stayed over. But I hope you know this isn’t some attempt being nosey, or guilt tripping you into something. All this is, is everything I can’t say out loud, all the things I couldn’t. That I still care and always will. That I’m here. That I can wait, however long it needs to be.

Do you remember when we were thirteen at the cottage, bored out of our minds because the power cut out so we decided to go run and dance in the rain? I hope the next time you stand in the rain, you think of that and think of me, just as I do you.

- Dani

—

The t-shirt didn’t smell like her anymore. Too many months of too many laundry days, and all Dani was left with now was worn fabric that felt softer than ever and a print of Debbie Harry’s face giving her a sidelong glance with the words ‘Blondie’ in blue cursive type above her head. She ran her hand over the embossed design, and without thinking Dani shucked off her shirt to toss on her bed beside a pile of fresh laundry, and slipped the Blondie t-shirt over her head.

There was little to no relief in wearing it anymore. Not when it smelled sharp and clean of florals and downy, long missing the faint smell of earth, the practical detergent Nan favored, and just plain Jamie. It was simply a t-shirt now. An article of clothing that she once borrowed and slept in. Something that had been buried, forgotten, in her rucksack until it had been too late to return. No comfort in pretending she could fall back asleep within it, no comfort in hugging a too soft pillow and imagining it was someone else. Standing now in the middle of her room and running her hand over the soft fabric, Dani knew of course that it was fruitless to pretend, to wish. Even so she couldn’t help the thought running through her head every time: it didn’t smell like her anymore.

The upended laundry basket had been tossed to one side of her room. She moved slowly, folding and setting aside laundry to be put away later. There was a distant ache travelling up the back of her neck to her head, a constant presence now along with the ache in her jaw from restless nights of grinding her teeth. As she bent low to tuck away a pile of pants into a drawer, a twinge pulsed over neck and the crown of her head. She winced, reaching up to dig her fingers into the offending muscles and nerves, gradually moving upright. Her fingers grazed against the cool metal of her necklace and she froze.

Dani stood quietly with the ache and took stock, slipping her eyes shut and clenching her fist, listening carefully to the sounds of the house. The television laughed through the thin floors. There was the distant heartbeat of the washing machine all the way in the basement on its second load. And her mother, quiet within her own company. She took careful steps towards her door, left open just a crack from when she had swung the door shut with her foot, arms laden with a laundry basket. Music travelled up through the stairwell and through the hall, a theme song jingle for some sitcom. Drawing in a steadying breath, Dani pushed herself out of her room to brave downstairs.

She dodged the floorboards that creaked and groaned predictably on deft, quiet feet. Tendrils of cigarette smoke drifted from the living room as she passed, and even now, the thickness of it still choked the back of Dani’s throat. The kitchen was a reprieve, the windows wide open to let in the late summer breeze, the floor cool beneath her bare feet, and she went about filling up the kettle and setting it on the backburner of the stove to boil.

She absently stretched and prodded at her neck as she moved throughout the kitchen, pressing against pinched nerves while digging out a tin of cookies to set some aside on a saucer for a late morning snack. Swinging open the cupboard that held all their mugs and glasses, Dani robotically pulled down her favored blue mug with scattered stars and reached further back, her hand darting about looking for a single mug in particular that kept hidden an old yet treasured altoid tin. But as she blindly probed the back of the cupboard, fingers searching for dented and scratched metal within ceramic, her brows slowly knitted when she came up empty.

Pulling her hand back, her frown deepened as she stared deep into the dark cupboard, her eyes darting over every corner. Something heavy seemed to drop and pull violently in her stomach, a tight cinch forming in her chest. Biting at her lip, Dani rose on her toes, shoving around mugs and cups, picking up and setting them aside when it wasn’t what she was looking for. A mug with floral designs, and a tin packed with precious tea, priceless hidden treasures.

Her breath was coming in fast, shallow and panicked and trapped within her chest, embers flaring within her lungs. “Mom?” she called out, her voice trembling, “Mom, where’s -?“

The kettle whistled. Dani gasped, the sound shrill and startling. She whipped around, her arm knocking into something hard, and ceramic shattered on the floor. Dani jumped back, bumping hard into the counter behind her, the corner digging painfully in her lower back. Pressing a hand to her sternum, her heart crashing against her ribs, Dani stood there wide eyed with pained shallow breaths, the kettle’s whistle shrill and loud, and at her feet, the scattered remains of her starry mug.

“Jesus Christ -!” her mother called out from the other room, “What have you done now?”

Dani was frozen, her heart a claxon in her chest, a sharp whistle ringing through her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, Karen appeared in the kitchen doorway and exhaled heavily.

“Goddamn it,” Karen said, a faint slur to her voice, carefully stepping around the disarray to pull the whistling kettle off the burner and twisting the knob with a click. “What is wrong with you? Look at this mess.”

Her mother continued on, blustering about in the kitchen, stepping around shards of ceramic, but Dani could barely hear her. The kettle was off the stove, but the ringing in her ears remained, shrill as a train whistle. Her breath shallow, her hands clenched into trembling fists at her side, she stared down the shattered remains of her mug, pieces of stars amongst a blue backdrop scattered along the floor like the big bang, hastily swept away by a frayed broom in her mothers hands. All at once, it felt as though the strained tension along her neck and scalp snapped and went taut, the necklace around her neck heavy like a noose.

Karen sighed. “Relax, Danielle,” she said, “It was just a mug.”

But it wasn’t just a mug. It was over a decade of memories. It was sharing tea with Jamie during sleepovers. It was her dad’s bright grin when she unwrapped it for her seventh birthday. Dani shook her head, a movement so small that Karen didn’t even notice, dumping the remains of her mug in the trash can.

“Mom?” Dani croaked, eyes unmoving from the floor, her eyes burning, “My tin - where’s my tin?”

Karen gave her a look of bewilderment, then rolled her eyes. “That old thing?” Karen stepped past her to replace the broom in the hallway closet. “It was an eyesore. I threw it and that old mug away. It had a crack in it.”

Nodding absently, feeling a sharp blow between her ribs, Dani bit her lips hard against the tremble of her chin, her throat growing thick. Her knees wobbled and she slowly sank to the floor, pulling her knees close to her chest with shaking hands. Sucking in a sharp, trembling breath that burned throughout her chest, Dani pressed her eyes shut and buried her face in her knees, digging her fingers into the skin of her shin, willing the floor to swallow her whole.

Footsteps returned to the kitchen and came to a sudden halt. There was a long, slow sigh. “Honestly, it was just a mug,” her mother said, exasperated, “We can get you another one.”

Dani shook her head, biting her lip hard until it hurt, until she tasted a coppery tang on her tongue. When Dani gave no further response, the kitchen drew silent and she could only imagine the frightened state of her as her mother made no other noise of moving away to leave Dani trembling on the floor.

“Danielle?” her mom murmured, soft footsteps drawing closer.

Curling further on herself, her shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around her knees, Dani turned her head away, trembling from the effort not to cry in front of her mother. There was the ruffling of clothes and movement, her mother’s form sinking down to sit beside her, the smell of smoke and her mother’s sweet morning facial cream permeating the air.

“Honey?”

Dani squeezed her eyes shut, an ache spreading across her chest, the word spoken so abnormally soft and unsure, and for one long moment, Dani could hardly process it, could hardly remember the last time her mother had spoken to her in such a way. A hand suddenly drifted over her hair, a startled, hesitant touch. Slowly, she went stiff, the room still and quiet as Dani waited for a pin to drop, for a rug to be pulled from under her, only hearing the distant breeze from the open windows, the restless tap of the sink. And then the hand stroked through the tresses of her hair, gentle in a way that made Dani’s heart ache. Swallowing thickly, she turned her head and met her mother’s eyes.

It was strange, to see the glazed glass of her mother’s blue eyes behind her glasses and not find any of the usual hardness, the aimless anger or frustration. Instead, there was faint bewilderment. Instead, there was apprehensive concern. Tears slipped down Dani’s cheeks, and haltingly, her mother’s hand reached up to swipe away one with her thumb. Dani’s eyes slipped closed at the touch, and all at once, she felt something concave within her.

“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered brokenly, feeling herself lean closer to her mom’s warmth, “Please, just -”

Her mom gradually wrapped her arms around her as though she didn’t really know what to do, but it was enough, and the ache within Dani’s chest burst open. A choked sob ripped through her, a dam of tears spilled over her cheeks, clutching her mom’s clothes as though that was the only thing tethering her together.

“All right,” her mom whispered.

Her mom held her tighter until Dani was curled into her lap, body shaking with violent sobs, feeling her mother’s hand run repeatedly over her hair. And it was all Dani could do but to hold on as she fractured into pieces on the kitchen floor.

—

The local grocery store had a new supplier; it was the talk of the town for a week. Her mother and her mother’s book club mused over the topic at length over cups of coffee and fragrant steam. They were talking about it when Dani braved the first floor of her house for a glass of water, and they were still talking about it when she returned downstairs to put on her shoes and go out to meet Eddie for a group project. Even Judy across the street had something to say, complaining about the sudden dearth of this or the wealth of that.

“I don’t see the big deal,” said Eddie without looking up from his notebook. “It’s just groceries.”

Secretly Dani agreed, but she did not say anything. They were seated at the dining table with their textbooks open to various pages. Dani had brought her bag of various colored pens and highlighters, its contents spilling across the wooden surface.

“In that case,” Judy replied, “you can come with me to the supermarket. Come on.”

He blinked up at his mother in befuddlement. “But we’re working on a school thing,” he said, gesturing to Dani sitting beside him.

“And you can work on it when you get back.” When Judy waved at him, the keys in her grasp jangled. “Let’s go. Danielle, honey, you can stay here, if you want.”

“No, I’ll come, too,” said Dani, pushing her seat back and standing.

Eddie huffed, but dutifully rose to his feet and followed his mother into the garage. The three of them piled into the sedan parked there, and Judy drove.

“Don’t see why we need to come at all,” Eddie said from the backseat.

“Maybe I need a few hands to help push a cart and carry bags,” Judy drawled, signalling before she turned down a street. “Or maybe I just want your delightful company, Edmund Kyle O’Mara.”

At the sound of his full name being used, Eddie sank a few inches in his seat and went quiet. Clearing her throat, Dani braved the silence that followed with a tentative attempt at conversation, which managed to get them all the way to the store without further incident. By the time they stepped out of the car and into the shop, Eddie had stopped his teenage sulking and was helpfully trotting off to grab a cart. He wheeled it after his mother, trailing dutifully in her wake.

The air inside the grocery store was slightly more cool than outside. It felt like a dampness on the skin. Dani shivered against it and tugged down the sleeves of the jumper she had stolen from Eddie’s closet earlier that afternoon. She cast a surreptitious eye about the place, half expecting her mother to appear from between one of the aisles and catch Dani wearing something so unflattering in public. No matter how hard Dani tried, she couldn’t shake herself of the feeling, and after a few minutes of idly perusing through the produce aisle behind Eddie and Judy, she removed the sweater and rolled it up beneath her arm instead despite the chill.

“Mom, can we get some of these?” Eddie asked, already holding up a bag of corn chips.

“Sure, honey,” Judy murmured, distracted by the list of items scrawled onto a piece of paper in her hand.

Dani peered over Judy’s shoulder at the list. “I can go get the washing powder.”

“Oh, would you? Thanks, sweetheart.”

Dropping the bundled up sweater into the cart, Dani wandered off in search of the right aisle. She turned down what she thought was the proper one, and blinked in surprise to find that nothing was in its right place anymore. For a brief moment, she thought she must have turned down the wrong aisle, and she craned her neck back to read the sign that hung from the ceiling. In the seventeen years she had lived in North Liberty, the shelves had never been rearranged. With a furrow of her brow, Dani retreated and went down the next aisle and the next again. Finally, she found what she was looking for, but no sooner had she reached the home cleaning supplies section than she froze.

Before her a wall of brightly colored cardboard boxes and plastic containers loomed. Rows upon rows. Arms wrapped around her midriff to ward off the prickle of cold, Dani’s gaze traced the lines of unfamiliar brand names in a wandering path, trying to find something, anything, that looked even remotely recognizable. But whatever brands the new supplier had stocked were so utterly unfamiliar, that Dani felt herself go stock-still.

It didn’t matter. She knew it didn’t matter. Any of these would do the trick. It was the uncertainty, the unknowing. Wanting something so mundane — just one thing, just this one thing — to be a mindless decision. And for a fleeting moment, she found herself wondering if this was what all the fuss was about, if this was what it meant. Homesickness. A longing for the return of normalcy. Just for this. Just for a moment.

“Did you find it?”

Whirling around, eyes wide, Dani found Eddie trundling the shopping cart down the aisle towards her. “What?” she asked.

He stopped, glanced at the wall of washing powders, and reached out to grab a box at random, hauling it into the cart along with the rest of the items.

“Why that one?” Dani asked, pointing.

Pausing to consider the question, Eddie shrugged. “Who cares? It’s just washing powder.” Then he turned the cart and smiled. “Come on. Mom’s this way.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I finally had to get rid of that scarf you gave me for Christmas. One of the ends unravelled. I borrowed Judy’s sewing machine and patched it back up, but it only delayed the inevitable.

On the plus side, I got to pick out a new one at a store in Davenport. The car ride with mom wasn’t great, but I think you’d like the scarf I picked in the end. I actually turned around, thinking mom was you standing behind me to show it to you. Don’t think I’ll make that mistake again any time soon.

Do you still have the scarf I gave you? Is it cold where you are? Hopefully not. It’s starting to get cold again here. I wish winter would go faster. The only good part about snow is that you liked it.

Still, it’s not all bad. I finally said yes to a date with Eddie.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but be nice. It was actually kind of fun. We went to the diner and then for a walk. He gave me his gloves because I was cold and I’d left mine at home. Judy, of course, was thrilled. And mom was — well. You know how she is.

I miss you. Stay warm.

-Dani.’

—

Her mother had been snooping around in Dani’s bedroom again. Dani could tell. Dani could always tell. There was a delicate balance to every aspect of Dani’s things — the way she hung her clothes, the way she made her bed, the way she left her closet door open just so, the way she positioned a tiny slip of paper into the shut door, so that upon re-entry she could glance around and see exactly what had or had not changed.

“Just a bit of cleaning,” was Karen’s usual excuse.

Not that Dani ever confronted her about it. Not really. Simple queries like “Were you looking for something?” were not confrontation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” was the usual reply.

Or, “It’s my house, Danielle. I can go where I want.”

Or even, “No. Do I need to be looking for something?”

Though the latter was usually reserved for the days when her mother was feeling particularly distrustful. As if Dani had something to hide. As if Dani were holding a door desperately shut, while her mother rattled the handle on the other side.

Shutting the door behind her, Dani leaned her back against it and surveyed the room. Karen had been looking under her bed. The sheet had rumpled from where she precariously tucked it just that morning. Dani’s grip tightened around the plain wooden box in her hands as she took note of the minute changes, cataloguing where her mother had been snooping and inevitably come up empty-handed.

As if Dani would be so foolish as to hide something beneath her bed. Honestly.

For a moment she listened to the sounds outside her bedroom, but there was nothing concerning. Her mother was still downstairs watching television after a day’s work. How she even found the time to go snooping was a mystery in and of itself.

With a sigh, Dani stepped towards her closet door. Pushing it open, she dropped down to her knees and reached behind a conveniently located half chest of drawers. A press of her fingers in just the right place, and the false panel popped open. She set it aside, then reached in to pull out the crawlspace’s contents one at a time.

An old band t-shirt.

A book.

A Zippo lighter.

A necklace.

A stack of photographs bound by a rubber band.

A cassette tape.

Dani sat, cross-legged, on the floor of her closet, surrounded by a fanning array of items as though at the center of a summoning circle. The box she held in her lap. It was plain and wooden with a bronze latch. The plainer the better. Less likely to arouse suspicion, should it be exhumed.

She hesitated to touch the t-shirt, her fingertips grazing the edge of the fabric as though afraid it would disintegrate at the slightest provocation. Her hand moved to the photographs. She peeled back the rubber band and flipped through the glossy pages. At some point in time, she had labelled the backs of each one.

Here was Jamie in 1976 at an Oaks game with Eddie, eating a hotdog and looking bored while Eddie cheered in the background. Here was Jamie laughing and reaching out towards the camera so that she was blurred with motion. Here was Jamie just a little over a year ago passed out on the couch, while Mikey was fast asleep on her stomach. Here was Jamie. Here was Jamie. Here was –

Nausea coiled faintly in Dani’s stomach. Abruptly, she wrenched open the box’s lid and began to shove all the items inside. It took a bit of furtive rearranging for everything to fit, and then her trembling thumb was pressing the latch shut with a final and resounding click. Her breath was coming fast and sharp. Dani had to close her eyes and steady herself, the feeling of the box beneath her hands, squeezing it shut as though afraid its contents might batter against the lid, yowling to be set free.

Movements quick and furtive, Dani shoved the box behind the false panel in her closet. And sometimes at night, she swore she could hear it clawing against the wall.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Have you ever felt like you were walking towards something you should be running away from? Everything feels like it’s moving so fast. Homework keeps piling up. Mom won’t stop breathing down my neck about my grades and college. Eddie asked me on another date. I feel like I’ve had a headache everyday just this week alone, and nothing I’m doing to stop it has helped.

I know it’s impossible, I know I need to stop thinking about it, but I wish you were here. You were always good at slowing things down and helping me relax. Whether we were sneaking out at night to the movies, or just sitting quietly together in either of our rooms.

I don’t remember the last time I was ever that relaxed. All I can do is smile and pretend that everything is okay. And honestly, I’ll tell you a little secret: sometimes I believe it myself. Sometimes I find myself laughing at something and wondering where it came from. Like all the doors to the rooms within me were slammed shut, and the only one cracked open was this mask I don’t recognize. Has that ever happened to you?

I’m sorry, I should really stop dumping all this on you.

In happier news, I have a small job lined up this summer! I’ll be babysitting the Newman's five and eight year olds. They even have a small dog with curly brown hair just like yours. His name is Jax, and he’s very cute. It’s not a lot of money, but it’s something to keep my hands busy after school’s over. Didn’t Nan say something about that once? Something about moral fiber and idle hands? Anyways, it’s something, and certainly better than sitting around doing nothing.

I hope you’re well. I hope you’re happy. Miss you.

- Dani

—

The school entrance was nothing short of spectacularly adorned of ribbons, balloons, and a banner that read: Homecoming. Groups of students dressed in fancy attire loitered at the front while slowly streaming inside. In the passenger’s seat of one of the O’Mara’s cars, Dani hid her clenched fists in the folds of her pale pink dress and worried at her lower lip as she watched through the windshield. A hand reached out to lightly grasp her fist.

“Hey,” Eddie said, gently unclasping her clenched hand to hold over the console, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dani rushed out, aiming a weak grin at Eddie, “Of course. Just - nervous I guess.”

He gave her a kind smile. “It’s okay. Me too, honestly,” he said, and chuckled lightly, pushing his glasses up his nose in a way he usually did when he was nervous. “Kind of feels like we’re sitting in a fishbowl already.”

Dani breathed out an awkward chuckle in lieu of responding, nerves straining beneath her skin.

“But hey,” Eddie continued, lightly shaking her hand and ducking his head to get a better look at her face in the lowlight of the car, “I’m really happy you decided to come with me.”

“Me too,” Dani murmured, not meeting his eyes.

And it wasn’t untrue for the most part. It only just took her the long, winding road to get there. Days and weeks of Eddie asking with hopeful eyes and a gentle tone, only to end with a disappointed nod of his head whenever she had told him no or given an indecisive answer. It was too early to decide. She wasn’t in the mood. She was too busy. But finally, he had worn her down with the promise of all the ice cream she could want, and a night away from home.

In the car now, his eyes shone brightly from the distant light of the school entrance, his grin gentle and fond. “I know - I know it’s been hard lately. With everything,” he started hesitantly, his thumb running over her knuckles, “But let’s try to have fun. I really want to give you a night where you didn’t have to think about anything. Not school, or your mom, or - “ he paused, and smiled weakly, his eyes ducking briefly, the jaw of his muscle jumping “ - or anything else. Just us, having fun.”

Drawing in a low breath, Dani nodded, braving a faint smile. “And remember,” Eddie said, “We can bail any time if we’re not having fun. Get some ice cream, find a party to crash.”

Dani chuckled and Eddie grinned broadly, boyishly sweet and handsome in his blue suit. “Okay,” Dani murmured, and exhaled. “Okay. I’m ready.”

It was easy, letting Eddie jump out and round the car to open the door for her with his hand held out. Easy to slip her hand back into his and let him lead her into the school. Easy to let him murmur in her ear how pretty he thought she looked. She plastered on a soft smile in the hopes of coming across as shy at the compliment instead of how abnormally strange it felt hearing those words come from him after all this time. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard him compliment her before, but they were becoming more regular by the day along with those long, captivated smiles, and all Dani could do was tuck the uneasiness away and push it aside.

Instead, she let herself take in the school as they entered, to greet her friends and schoolmates with waves and bright smiles and hugs. To let her eyes scan over the gymnasium when they finally entered, decorated in a bare fairy tale theme. String lights strewn along the walls and above their heads, fake flowers and plants stuck to the walls and placed as centerpieces on circular tables. It was pretty but simple, for all the school budget had to spare, but no one seemed to care. With pop music blaring from the rented stereo system, there was already a plethora of students on the dancefloor and lingering beside a long table of drinks and snacks.

Eddie nudged Dani lightly and bent low for her to hear him say, “How much do you wanna bet that someone spiked the punch already?”

Dani laughed and shook her head. “I don’t need to bet,” she said, and nodded towards the table, “Look.”

Following her line of sight, they both looked to find none other than Sterling sneaking furtive glances around for any nearby teachers or chaperons before carefully pouring in a healthy amount of white liquor from a flask.

Eddie laughed and gave her a grin. “You want some?”

Immediately, Dani’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Um - maybe later?”

Eddie shrugged. “Sure,” he said, and tugged gently at her hand, “Ready then?”

Taking another long scan around the room, Dani finally nodded and let Eddie pull her deeper into the crowded room.

There was something to be said with mixing spiked punch, loud music that hammered against your chest, and a crowd of teenagers in one room. The razor facades in school hallways and lunch cliques fading away to awkward but zealous dancing, tears and arguments in gymnasium corners and bathrooms, cheap blue lights that shone above and reflected off of tinsel and sequins. And even as she felt eyes on them throughout the night, even as Eddie smiled broad and proud as her friends complimented how cute they looked together, the facade Dani had painted on remained and she managed to tuck it all away, determined to have fun for the first time in months. Lingering on the outskirts of the dancefloor with Eddie, laughing at his commentary and sharing the occasional dance with him or a cluster of her friends when she felt brave enough.

She had even let herself share a dance with Roger. Eddie had let them go with a good natured roll of his eyes and broad grin. She hadn’t spoken to Roger much recently, not since long before the summer holidays when Nan’s anniversary had come around, but he was still as friendly as ever while they conversed and danced slowly at a respectable distance. But when his smile slowly faltered, a look of somber hesitance crossing his face, Dani felt her heart sink.

“Listen, um - “ Roger started, “I didn’t get the chance to tell you before. Didn’t know when was a good time really, but I just wanted to say sorry. Y’know, about Jamie - “

“It’s fine,” Dani interrupted quickly, just a little sharply. He blinked and slowly nodded, ducking his head, and Dani said again more softly, “It’s fine.”

Roger nodded again and offered her a faint smile, and that was that. They finished their dance and Roger let her quietly slip away with a thanks and apology. She aimed a weak smile at him and went in search of Eddie. When she found him, he was sipping deeply from a red cup by the table and brightened when he spotted her.

“Want one now?”

Fixing her eyes on the bowl of punch, Dani gritted her teeth through a thin smile and nodded. And just as she had expected, the taste was similar to a sweet, pungent acid that burned on the way down. Eddie laughed when she twisted her face, but gamely she took another long sip.

“Careful,” Eddie chuckled, “Don’t want to end up like Kyle, do you?” He jerked his head towards a form slumped over on a table.

“Oh,” Dani said, wincing, “I hope he’s okay.” But when Kyle was roughly jostled awake by a friend and staggered to his feet to be dragged away somewhere, she breathed out a laugh and shook her head.

“Seems fine to me,” Eddie said, and when a fun disco song transitioned to a slow ballad, a look of shy eagerness overtook him. He drew in a slow breath and nudged the back of her hand with his. “Hey - do you want to dance again?”

Dani hesitated. She had been expecting this question all night, but still was not prepared for the way her heart hammered abruptly against her ribs. Swallowing thickly at Eddie’s hopeful eyes, his glasses reflecting bright fairy lights as though they were stars, Dani slowly nodded with a faint smile.

Eddie blinked in surprise. “Really?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, feeling her stomach sour, but a broad smile bloomed on Eddie’s face, brightening his features, and she couldn’t help but feel her heart soften at the sight of it.

Without a word, he took her hand and guided her onto the dance floor, wedging them through couples with their arms around each other, slow dancing. Dani kept her head low, focused on the path they took rather than the room encompassing them, the unnerving sense of eyes watching them returning, settling over her like cold water.

All their dances so far had been set to upbeat music, spinning each other around and competing on who knew the most popular dance moves, instigated by Eddie in an effort to make her laugh. She had been grateful, but with every slow song that came and went, she could feel Eddie’s shoulders bunch beside her as he gave her careful sidelong glances when he thought she wasn’t looking.

But Dani was always looking, waiting and anticipating every look or touch of the hand, never having the heart to turn him away, and worse, not knowing why. And this was no different. This was Eddie putting his hands around her waist, this was Eddie giving her a nervous grin as she placed her hands on his shoulders, this was the slow sway they easily fell into, the sound of the ballad pressing on Dani’s eardrums.

There was a look of faint wonder on Eddie’s face as they danced, as though he had never expected them to end up here when the night began. There was an intensity to it that Dani wondered maybe if this was the part where she was supposed to feel the same way in return, that giddy, lovestruck feeling that all the other girls talked about regarding the boys they liked. As she let her eyes drift across his face, breathing in his fresh and sharp cologne, he was still the same Eddie. Still the same boy who spent most of his time with his nose stuck in a book or rehearsing for a Model UN debate, whose sweaters she stole and whose hugs felt warm and safe. There was a strange sense of both disappointment and relief within her, and in an effort to not think about why, she stepped closer to press against his chest to feel that same comforting warmth.

As she wrapped her arms fuller around him, she felt more than heard him chuckle, a hand moving to smooth up and down her back.

“Having fun?” he murmured. Dani nodded against the stiff fabric of his suit, humming affirmatively in response. “I’m glad,” he continued softly, “That was all I wanted.”

Without warning, her throat grew thick and she bit her tongue to quell the feeling, exhaling slowly when she managed to push it away. “Thank you,” Dani murmured, her eyes slipping closed, listening to the rapid thumps of his heart, “I think I really needed this.”

“Any time,” Eddie said, “God knows I needed it too. Have I told you yet how glad I am you agreed to come with me?”

Dani chuckled. “Once or twice,” she said, “But feel free to mention it again if you have to.”

But Eddie didn’t, remaining silent as they continued to sway. It only took her a moment to realize why, feeling his shoulders tense and his chest gradually expand as he drew in what seemed to be a fortifying deep breath. Her eyes flickered open, her breath caught in anticipation.

“Danielle?” Eddie started, carefully soft.

“Yeah?” she whispered, a pool of trepidation whirling in her stomach.

“Can I kiss you?”

For all the nerves she felt beneath her skin, for the way her heart crashed against her chest, there was a distinct lack of surprise ringing through her. Dani had been expecting this, she had heard of all the ways the other girls expected and hoped their own nights to go with their dates, she just hadn’t been expecting it so soon. This was always supposed to happen, wasn’t it, Dani thought as she slowly pulled back to meet Eddie’s eyes, wide with hopeful anxiety.

She could say no, she could gently let him down, tell him she wasn’t ready yet, that she may never be. And he’d understand, he’d nod and duck his head unable to hide his somber disappointment. She could keep telling him no until he finally gave up, until he was unable to look her in the eyes anymore, until he was asking for space and neglected to call her back or invite her over for dinner. Until he slipped away like sunlight between her trembling fingers, taking Judy and Carson and the rest of the family with him until all Dani was left with was a cold house that wanted to eat her whole, and her mother, both a ghost and puppeteer in equal measure.

Dani’s heart was racing, she realized. Panicked thoughts rushing through her mind at lightspeed, a future that felt like a long dark tunnel with no end in sight. She exhaled slowly and met Eddie’s gaze, waiting with increasingly nervous eyes. Offering him a weak smile, she reached up to push his glasses up his nose and cup his cheek, feeling a faint stubble beneath her palm, and finally, she nodded.

He blinked, a slow look of deep affection bloomed over him, his eyes drifting down to her mouth. “You sure?” he mumbled.

When she nodded wordlessly again, not trusting to speak, Eddie smiled wide and slowly bent down to capture her lips with his. It was soft and chaste, just as it had been all that time ago at a house party, and Dani found it to be almost pleasant for all the stirring emotion she didn’t feel. He made a soft, happy sound and his hands pressed her incriminantly closer before he finally pulled away, dazed and enamored.

“Wow,” he murmured under his breath.

This is the part, Dani told herself, where you kiss him again.

Confetti was suddenly drifting around them, sparkling gold and silver, and a thrilled clamor passed over the room. They both peered around and found confetti cannons on stage erupting with more glittering paper, and Eddie laughed.

“Perfect timing,” he said, his cheeks pink, his eyes bright and happy.

Dani chuckled in lieu of not knowing what to say, ducking her eyes and easing back into his chest, but then the song changed, transitioning into something softer. Familiar soft harmonies interspersed with sparse instruments. Recognition gradually fell upon her like a slow crashing wave, like the glittering confetti drifting over her. Dani sucked in a low breath and froze, her eyes going wide and her mouth slowly dropping open. The song reverberated around the room and pressed against her chest, squeezing tight like a band until it was hard to breath.

“Danielle?” Eddie said, feeling the sudden tension in her shoulders, bewildered and concerned, “You okay?”

“Um - “ Dani croaked, a tremble in her voice, easing out of his arms and unable to look him in the eyes, “I just - can you give me a moment? I need to go to the bathroom.”

She slowly backed away, and out of the corner of her eyes she could see him frowning. He called out her name again, but Dani didn’t deign to respond. Her jaw taut and her fists clenched, Dani pushed her way through the crowd at a brisk pace with quick shallow breaths, the song ringing in her ears like a train whistle. She pushed and pushed until she was surging out of the gym and into the hallway, the door clanging open. It was quieter in the hallway, the music muffled now through the doors, but it wasn’t enough.

There were other classmates loitering around in small groups in the hall, some glancing her way at the sudden noise of her appearance but didn’t linger long. Steeling herself, a desperate thrum beneath her skin that felt like she was being clawed inside out, Dani moved past them further down the hall, her feet heavy like lead, her head ducked with her eyes glued to the ground until she arrived finally to the girls bathroom at the end of the wing. She pushed open the door and let it creak closed behind her.

A pressure swelled within her in the quiet of the bathroom, bursting from her chest in sharp, quickening breaths now that she was alone. Embers bloomed from her lungs with every sharp inhale, her head spinning so that she stumbled forward to grip the damp countertop with white knuckles, the edge digging into her palms as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Fuck,” she whispered in between gasping breaths, her voice cracking from the strain, feeling as though she were drowning on molten lava, burning a path through her chest.

She pressed a palm to her sternum, sucking in lungfuls of air, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress, and focused to slow her breath, to swallow down the panic swelling within her throat. An inhale, and an exhale, trembling but slow, again and again until she could finally hear past the rush of blood in her ears and feel the walls expand again from where they were pressing on her. And just as resigned herself that the burn in her lungs would remain until she retrieved her inhaler from the car, a door behind her slowly creaked open.

Dani sucked in a sharp breath, eyes snapping open as she jerked upright, frozen to the spot. Immediately, a heavy stone of dread and embarrassment sank in her stomach when through the mirror, Jackie emerged from a stall, dressed to the nines in a sparkling periwinkle dress with her hair perfectly coiffed and feathered. Their eyes briefly met, and Dani promptly ducked her head, hastily wiping at her burning cheeks, her shoulders hunching.

The clack of heels sounded behind her in the uneasy quiet, moving closer until Jackie was a few sinks down from her, eerily silent as she twisted open the faucet to wash her hands. Dani swallowed thickly, her jaw clenched and her breath caught in anticipation, her heart a claxon in her chest. Waiting for the usual taunting jeer, for a cruel laugh that never came. Instead, there was a silence between them that Dani was unused to, leaving her feeling as though she was teetering over the edge of a great capricious cliff, waiting for a hand to push her off.

Hesitantly, Dani’s eyes slowly drifted up towards their reflections. There was Dani, haggard and hollow-eyed with red stained cheeks. And there was Jackie, slowly meeting her gaze with an expression that was both faintly uncomfortable and tentative. Jackie promptly looked away. Rooted to the spot, Dani watched out of the corner of her eyes as Jackie turned off the faucet to dry her hands with paper towels, and without a word, without another glance back, swung open the bathroom door to make a swift exit. Blinking in the silence, utterly perplexed and exhausted, Dani’s eyes slipped shut and her shoulders slumped with a slow exhale.

She stood there for a few minutes longer, leaning heavily against the counter. Washing her hands with cold water, letting it run long over her fingers and wrists. Splashing cool droplets over her cheeks and neck to cool the burn. Stood there until some semblance of control smoothed over her, until reality shifted back from it’s prism of panic.

Exhaling slowly, she made to finally exit the bathroom, but when she swung open the door, she paused when she was greeted with Eddie leaning against the opposite wall with his hands deep in his pockets, his brow furrowed with worry. When he spotted her, his eyes lit up with concern and he stood upright.

“Hey,” he murmured, taking a step towards her, his eyes scanning over her, “Are you okay? You look -“

“It’s -” Dani started, stumbling over the words as she neared him, “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” he said, “You got out of there so fast, and now you look exhausted. And then Jackie told me where you were, which was weird. Wait - did she say something to you? What happened?”

Dani was shaking his head before he even stopped speaking. “It’s - it was nothing. Just - “ the words lodged themselves in the back of her throat. “Can we - um,” Dani said in a whisper, staring resolutely at his tie and not his eyes, “Can we get some air?”

Eddie was already nodding. “Yeah, sure,” he said, “Whatever you want.”

He led her down the hall towards the front doors, and Dani followed wordlessly, easily falling into step with him, almost unseeing, her eyes glued to the floor. It was easy to let him guide her, almost a relief that she didn’t have to focus more beyond putting one foot in front of another, to breathe in the cool evening air when they finally stepped outside. They walked for a few minutes longer, and without even realizing it, Dani found herself being guided to sit down on the first row of bleachers of the school stadium.

Exhaling a slow breath that rattled in her chest, the embers there a dying glow, she wrapped her arms around herself and hunched within her shoulders. A warm suit jacket was strewn over her shoulders, and she shot Eddie an appreciative smile when he sank to sit beside her. He grinned softly and took her hand once again.

“How’s this?” he asked softly.

“Better,” Dani murmured, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Eddie said, and visibly hesitated. “You want to tell me what happened now?”

Dani clenched her teeth, letting her eyes scan over the darkened field, tracing over the red track, and felt a dim ache in her chest. Her eyes glazing over, her thumb drifted towards her mouth and she bit down hard into the skin and nail until there was the faint taste of copper in her mouth.

“Hey - Danielle. Hey -!” Eddie grabbed her hand and pulled it gently from her mouth to hold in a tight grasp, looking stricken.

“Sorry,” Dani croaked, and cleared her throat, “Sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, looking at a loss for words, eyes darting over the field for a moment before meeting her gaze. “No, I’m - I’m sorry,” he said, contrite, “I should have taken you to the car instead.”

Nodding faintly, Dani ducked her head. “Sorry I ruined tonight.”

Shaking his head, Eddie shifted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You didn’t,” he murmured, “Just means we can go get ice cream now.”

Breathing out a weak chuckle, Dani faintly said, “Yeah. Sounds nice, actually.”

Eddie pulled her closer, his hand rubbing a warm path over her shoulder and arm, audibly swallowed hard, and finally said, “I miss her, too.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I visited Nan today. I brought a bouquet of her favorite flowers and cleaned up her gravestone. I hope that’s all right, that I went to see her. I don’t visit as often as I used to, or talk to her as much anymore. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been rolling her eyes at how much I talk, but I think she secretly enjoys the company. I went to see my dad too. I don’t really remember the last time I visited him, just that mom got upset when she found out and didn’t talk to me for a few days. I haven’t been since until today. It was nice, I told him all about you. I think you two would have gotten along.

I went to see the house again too. Sometimes I just find myself there without realizing it, driving or walking past, and I’ve done so enough that it doesn’t feel as shocking anymore to see how it’s decayed. The broken and boarded windows, and the overgrown grass. Nan would catch a fit if she saw what happened to it. It’s not pretty inside either. Everything is gone. The wallpaper and paint are peeling and there’s debris everywhere that I could almost hear Nan yelling at us to clean up. The backyard is just as bad as you can imagine. Your bike is still there, but the tire swing is gone. All that’s left is the rope hanging from the tree, just waiting for an accident to happen.

When I was walking through the old bedrooms when I had the sudden thought: I could live here. Now, look, I know it sounds crazy but it wouldn’t be too hard. Just a bit of elbow grease and a little money for repairs and new furniture. I could live here all alone and no one would ever find me. I’d have my white curtains and blue shutters. A reading nook in the corner with an armchair like Nan’s. A garden of fresh fruits and vegetables in the back. Rooms that smelled of flowers and fresh laundry. My own little corner of the world like I once told you about. But I guess it was just a dream.

I suppose I just wanted to see it for myself. It’s been a while now since you left, and for so long I hoped to see you again, but seeing the house like that, discarded and forgotten like a carcass in the woods, I think I understand now. There is no going back. Even when I wake up every night and I want to call you to tell you everything and that I can’t sleep, I remember.

Sometimes I feel like I miss you more than I remember you, and I don’t know what to do with that, or where to put it all. So, I suppose I have to leave it here. At the cottage and in this letter.

Speaking of letters, I got my college acceptance letters today. It’s not what you had hoped for me probably, not the freedom we had both once imagined, but I like to think you might be proud of me at least. It’s a step towards something, towards teaching like I’ve always wanted, and that has to count for something, right?

I hope you know I’m proud of you too, wherever you are and whatever you might be doing.

- Dani

—

The party was far too reminiscent of one she had attended years ago. She had not attended many since, preferring to mingle outside of student housing and on the steps of the library. Not unless corralled by etiquette – de rigeur to a fault.

Dani hunched her shoulders and squeezed herself tighter into the corner as someone passed by without so much as a glance in her direction. “Sorry,” she mumbled and clutched her red plastic cup to her chest.

From this vantage point, Dani could see the entirety of the living room, the open back door leading to the lawn, the pillars framing the entrance to the kitchen. A strange house full of strange people. People draped across the couches, people perched upon the armrests of chairs, people grouped up in packs, people talking loudly over the music, people circulating drinks and no food, people stripping off their shirts and lowering themselves into the outdoor jacuzzi beneath a night-darkened sky.

Taking a sip of her drink – hard alcohol mixed with whatever canned pop was stashed in the fridge – Dani scanned the crowd for any sign of the girl who had invited her in the first place. The girl who sat beside her in class. The girl who invited Dani and who only ever referred to Eddie as ‘the boyfriend.’ The girl with dark hair and dark skin and dark eyes, who took every opportunity to lean in close and whisper jokes in Dani’s ear during lectures, who had grasped Dani’s hand warmly upon first meeting and introduced herself as Lila.

It took Dani a moment to find her. There were so many people bunched about. At one point she thought she saw Eddie outside, conversing with a group of students from the engineering department. His glasses gleamed as he laughed. Knowing he was near enough to reach in a moment was enough. Idly Dani glanced towards the far corner, nearest the unlit fireplace, and froze.

Lila stood in the corner in full view of the rest of the house, very clearly kissing another girl from their year group. Nobody seemed to care or even notice. Nobody except Dani, who stared at the slant of their mouths together, at the grasp of Lila’s hand at the other girl’s waist, at the ease and obvious delight with which they kissed — sloppy yet smiling.

Dani heard more than felt the plastic cup in her hand crumple slightly, and the contents of her cup were abruptly squeezed out, overflowing onto her wrist and the front of her blouse. Swearing under her breath, Dani set the plastic cup down on a side table already cluttered with absent drinks and cans of cheap beer. She shook out her hand and looked down at her blouse. It wasn’t stained, but a splotch of the pale material was now nearly transparent, showing the outline of Dani’s bra beneath.

With a sigh, she squeezed her way past a few people, apologising as she went, until she made it to an uncrowded hallway. There, she peered into an open door, discovered that the room was indeed the bathroom, and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.

She was standing before the sink and reaching for a wash towel when she saw him. A dark and faceless figure in the mirror, looming over her reflection’s shoulder like a shade. Eyes wide, Dani whirled around with a gasp, brandishing the hand towel as though it were a weapon.

The towel knocked the apparition sideways. It was, she realised, made of cardboard. A life sized cut out figure of Michael Myers. A prank, perhaps. A vestigial decoration from a recent Halloween party, more likely.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered to herself.

Heart still pounding in her chest, Dani shook her head and turned back around. She dabbed at her blouse to very little effect, before resigning herself to the fact that she could do nothing but wait for it to dry.

Voices outside the door. Then the tramp of footsteps receding down the hallway. There was a knock, and Dani called out, “Just a minute!”

Checking her reflection one last time in the mirror — and casting a glare at the cardboard cut out for good measure — Dani opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway. The empty hallway. She shut the bathroom door behind her with a click, frowning down the hall towards the main room and the party.

“Having fun?”

Dani jerked around to find Lila leaning against the wall and smiling. “Oh! Hi! Yeah, I – uh –” Dani made a small gesture towards the hallway at large. “I like your house.”

“Thanks. I rent it with, like, six other people.”

“That’s a lot.”

Lila shrugged. “Still better than the dormitories. More privacy.”

“With six other people?”

“Maybe less privacy,” Lila amended with a grin. “More freedom, though.”

“Sounds nice,” Dani agreed. “Which room is yours?”

It was meant to be an innocent question, but the moment it slipped out Dani winced. Lila’s grin broadened and her eyes flicked down to the see-through mark on Dani’s shirt.

“I just meant –” Dani stammered.

“Yeah?”

“It’s – It’s a big house. Easy to get lost in."

Lila nodded. “It is.” Then she pointed down the hallway, further away from the living room. “Mine’s that one on the right. I would invite you in, but it’s a mess right now.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Dani, then went bright red. Perhaps one of those boys in the kitchen had poured more rum into her cup than she’d originally thought.

Biting back a snort of laughter, Lila shook her head. “You really do make this too easy.”

Dani grimaced. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right. I thought you were straight? Didn’t you come here with the boyfriend?”

Dani’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Finally she managed to swallow past the pressure at her throat, and said, “I did. I mean – I am. He’s – around. Somewhere. I think.”

Lila nodded sagely. “Mmm. Yes. Very convincing.”

“That’s –” Dani clamped her teeth shut and cast a furtive look down each end of the hallway, but nobody was coming towards them. Nobody seemed to be eavesdropping. “Did you need something?”

Lila’s eyebrows rose. She cocked her head, still smiling faintly. “Yeah,” she said, taking a step closer. “Actually, I do.”

“Oh?” Dani could feel herself tense, her hands clenching into fists at her side. The air was too warm, cloying, and Lila’s eyes were keen as darts.

Lila reached out and for a brief breathless moment Dani thought she was going to touch her – grasp her gently by the arm, cup her cheek, take her chin between clever fingers and guide Dani by the jaw – only for Lila to turn the doorknob just behind Dani.

“I need to pee,” said Lila. “And you’re standing right in front of the bathroom.”

An unexpected burst of laughter escaped Dani then. She leaned back against the shut door, lifting a hand to cover her face, laughing into her palm. Lila grinned at her as Dani slipped out of the way with a series of breathless apologies.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lila told her, giving Dani a wave even as she shut the bathroom door. “See you in class!”

“Yeah,” Dani waved back and ducked her head, relieved to be heading back down the hall in search of Eddie.

It wasn’t that Lila wasn’t nice. Because she was. And it wasn’t that people at the party weren’t nice. Because they were. A few tried to engage her in conversation while she crossed the main room to get to the back door. She was just tired, Dani told herself. She wanted to go home.

It had nothing to do with the thrill skittering beneath her ribs. Nothing at all to do with the fact that Dani had no idea what she would have done if Lila had made some sort of advance. Balked? Probably not. Accepted? Surely not.

Surely not.

That wasn’t her. Dani wasn’t that person.

“Hey,” Eddie greeted her with a smile when she found him still engaged in conversation with a group out back. “How’s it going?”

Dani wrapped a hand around his arm. “Fine. Can we go? Sorry. I know it’s early.”

“That’s all right,” one of the other guys said — she didn’t know any of their names. He winked at Eddie and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll catch up next week, yeah?”

Eddie’s answering chuckle sounded slightly nervous and he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Sure,” then he said to Dani, “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

—

Sex with Eddie wasn't his idea. Only that it was something Dani thought they ought to do. Because it was a step forward, and any step forward was better than looking back.

She wanted to want it. She wanted to think of him and not the way Lila smiled at her in class. The way the cute and curvy barista always brushed their fingers together when she handed over Dani's cup of coffee. The way the older librarian always wore her soft blouse with a button undone so that Dani's eyes could trace her collarbone. The way a female classmate squeezed by her in a tightly crowded hallway with a brief press of her hand to the small of Dani's back.

Most of all she didn't want to be left alone with her thoughts about the dream. About going to her dorm after the party, kissing Eddie good night, only to fall asleep and wake up clutching a spare pillow, knees clenched together. Still haunted by a dream where a faceless figure explored her body with a soft mouth, a roving tongue and sharp teeth. And how she had tried to relieve the slick heat between her legs with her own hands, only to give up after ten minutes of frustration, unable to conjure up a face, unable to feel any sense of connection to herself enough to finish alone. Physicality seemed to jolt her back to herself, away from the jumbled fantasy that existed in the dark and nowhere else, making her feel less real, less tangible.

Sex with Eddie was easier than she had expected. And exactly as awkward as she had expected.

It took a grand total of fifteen minutes. Afterwards, Eddie rolled onto his side and tucked his head into the crook of Dani’s shoulder with a sigh, an arm still flung across her waist. They had a few more hours until her roommate returned to the dorm. She remained there, carding a hand through his dark hair and staring up at the ceiling, while Eddie sketched little patterns with his fingertips against her skin.

Sex with Eddie was uninspired. It was lackluster. And it was — Dani thought wonderingly to herself, thinking of all the girls she’d heard discussing the deed with giggling delight — ultimately disappointing.

She felt him press a kiss to her shoulder, and she blinked down at him.

“That was nice,” he mumbled.

Dani hummed a wordless reply rather than say something in return.

—

'Dear Jamie,

You’d be proud of me. I went to a party. All on my own, no less. Well, not alone. Eddie came, too. But I was the one who secured the invitation, and I think that counts for something.

I had the strangest dream afterwards, though. I don’t think alcohol agrees with me much. Must be a family trait.

I wish you’d been there. At the party, I mean. The whole time I was there, all I could think about was how well you’d get along with everyone. How much more fun it would be with you. I miss you.

All my love,

- Dani

—

It was his face afterwards that had stuck with her. Contorting between bafflement and hurt, fidgeting on his knee after Dani had pulled the rug from right beneath him.

“What do you mean: no?” Eddie had said slowly, as though he was still parsing out the words in his head.

“We’re - Eddie, we’re still so young, and - can you stand up, please? The snow is melting into your pants,” Dani said, pulling at her fingers, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction.

“I just - “ Eddie started, glancing wordlessly around the quiet park where they stood before finally rising to his feet. Without meeting her eyes, he finally murmured, his breath a white mist, “I thought this was what you wanted, too.”

Words lodged themselves in Dani’s throat, confessions building like bile. Things she had never truly taken into consideration before, but couldn’t possibly say. Not on Christmas morning on an impromptu walk in the park at Eddie’s eager insistence, intent on blindsiding her with an unplanned proposal. He had never looked so serious before, lacking the teasing glint he had worn in his eyes the dozens of times he’d asked before in the past years. Utterly earnest with the way he dropped to his knee with the admission he had no ring, but knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

But then she had said it: ‘No.’ The word seeming to come out of nowhere, banging on her ribs to be let out until she was speaking it before she could stop herself. And then there it was, his face. Blinking up at her as though he was seeing her for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” Dani said, her fingers twitching to grasp his hand, quietly urging him to look at her, “I’m just - I don’t think I’m ready yet. It’s too soon.”

A muscle jumping in his jaw, Eddie nodded and gradually met her gaze. “But one day?” he asked quietly, hope glinting in his eyes.

It sounded like a promise. One she’d have no say in the matter, or opportunity to change her mind. A contract of infinite fine lines. Dani exhaled, the morning air cold and sharp against her cheeks and nose, shifting on her feet in the snow.

Already tired and the day had barely begun, Dani finally relented. “Yeah,” Dani breathed, smiling weakly, “One day. Just - not now, okay?”

The morning sun cast sharply against the snow, leaving long angled shadows from the trees and their figures, the light glinting off of Eddie’s glasses when ducked his head briefly and nodded.

“Okay,” he murmured, offering her a brave smile that was more frail and still disappointed than anything. But then, the teasing glimmer was back, the corner of his mouth lifting in a knowing smirk. “It was the ring, wasn’t it? Because I didn’t have one and you want a nice big shiny ring?”

Dani blinked at him and then rolled her eyes hard, thwacking him lightly on the arm. He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder for a loose hug. Dani let him, slipping her arms around his waist and squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed into his chest, the part of her relieved to hear him laugh again suffocating under the guilt clutching at her heart in a fist.

“Come on,” Dani said, lightly clearing her throat and pulling away to lead him back towards the house, “Before everyone starts to wonder if we ran away.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Eddie said, waggling his eyebrows, slipping his hand into hers.

Dani huffed, and said, “Sure, until my mom calls the police for your head on a spike.”

Eddie blanched, as pale as snow. “Never mind.”

Snickering, Dani shook her head and led him back home. There had been an easiness to him on the way back, his cheeks pink from the cold, chuckling when his glasses immediately fogged when they stepped inside the house. But that had been then, and the hours slipped by with presents shared and lunch had, the easiness giving way to the return of quiet disappointment and dejection the longer they were subjected to the company of Tommy’s newest girlfriend and David’s fiancée. Eddie’s eyes dimming by the hour with forced smiles and hushed conversations in corners with Judy or Mike.

She inadvertently came across one by accident. Wandering into the kitchen in search of something to snack on to channel the nerves bubbling beneath her skin after escaping small talk and awkward smiles with Tommy’s girlfriend. Eddie with his head ducked and Judy murmuring softly to him. She froze when they spotted her, her shoulders tensing as they both gave her similar warm smiles that betrayed nothing of the conversation they were having.

“Sorry - um,” Dani said, eyes darting between them, “Did I interrupt something?”

“Of course not, honey,” Judy said, waving her off and returning to her task of putting together a platter of cookies, “Are you hungry again? Do you want me to heat up some leftovers for you?”

The question almost flew over Dani’s head, instead carefully watching Eddie quietly clear his throat before delving into the fridge for a drink. “No,” Dani said after a moment too long and plastered on a small smile at Judy, “I’m fine.”

Fine was one way of putting it, a dim sense of dread washing over her as Eddie merely offered her a kiss on the head and a crooked grin that didn’t reach his eyes when he slipped by, leaving the pair alone in the kitchen without a word. Her fists clenched, she watched his tall frame disappear around the corner.

There was a sigh behind her. “You kids grew up too fast if you ask me.”

Dani choked out a laugh. “Just a little bit,” she replied, biting her lip and folding her arms across her chest.

The kitchen remained silent for a moment, until Judy said, “Sweetheart, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”

There was a faint eagerness to Judy’s tone that Dani had no idea what to do with. Shaking her head faintly, she turned to be met with Judy’s kind but concerned expression. “I’m fine,” Dani repeated, “I promise.”

Judy seemed unconvinced, stepping closer to press her palm on Dani’s cheek, meeting her eyes with a level of intensity that Dani wasn’t used to. Not from Judy. “You would tell me,” Judy started slowly, “if there was something wrong, wouldn’t you, honey?”

Words banged again within her chest, beating against her ribs. I don’t know how to love him, it said, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m -

“Of course,” Dani lied, guilt twisting tight around her neck as she gave Judy a reassuring smile.

With a sigh, Judy gently shook her head. “Then I want you to stop worrying,” she said firmly but gently, slipping into a smile that bordered on teasing, “You’ll both come around. I just know it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two souls made for each other as much as you two. Well, besides Mike and I, of course.”

Judy laughed softly and Dani couldn’t help but mimic her, invisible strings stretching her mouth into a broad smile. And when Judy finally left her alone to her own devices in the kitchen with the platter of cookies in hand, Dani’s shoulders sagged and her smile slipped away in place of weariness. It took a moment for her to decide, already pulling down a wine glass from the cupboard before she made up her mind. Digging out a wine bottle from the fridge to fill her glass with a burgundy red that settled heavy on her tongue and smoothed the building panic within her until it was reduced back to a simmer.

It kept her company for the evening, a sip taken for every sidelong glance from Eddie, every encouraging smile from Judy, every stern look her mother sent her way. But when night began to settle and her flushed cheeks began to buzz, Dani quietly slinked away from the festivities to grab her jacket and boots to slip outside the backdoor, exhaling in relief when she stepped out onto the porch.

Leaning against the railing, her breath was a white cloud as she took in the scene. The air was brisk but still and quiet, the sky an indigo blue with faint stars twinkling above her, and for the first time since waking up this morning, a sense of peace swept over her in the quiet of the dark. But Dani didn’t have it for long. She had only been outside for just a few moments when the backdoor opened. Tensing, she turned around with excuses already on her tongue, but sighed when Carson shut the door behind him with a small grin and joined her at the railing.

Without a word, Dani returned to staring listlessly into the dark sky and backyard, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Thought I’d find you out here,” Carson murmured softly, as though unwilling to disturb the quiet, “Mom sent me to look for you.”

Dani snorted humorlessly. “Worried I was going to run off into the night?”

“Nah,” Carson said, and then paused, narrowing his eyes, “Is that something I should be worried about?”

Breathing out a thin laugh, Dani nudged him in the ribs. He jerked away, chuckling with a pleased grin before digging out a rumbled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one with practised ease, embers glowing bright in the dark, and wordlessly held it towards her. After a beat, Dani took it without looking over at him and took a long drag, welcoming the burn in her lungs.

“These aren’t good for you, you know,” she murmured flatly, expelling the smoke through pursed lips.

She felt Carson shrug. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it,” he said, lighting up a cigarette of his own.

Dani rolled her eyes in mild exasperation but didn’t respond, electing to smoke quietly until Carson broke the silence.

“Look, don’t worry about Eddie, okay?“

She sighed. “Carson.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, turning to face her, “I know he’s acting like a dick right now, but - well you know how he is. His favorite movie is The Graduate.” He twisted his face in distaste as though that explained everything.

Dani gave him a long look. “Is this why your mom sent you to find me?”

He shook his head. “Just to keep you company,” he murmured.

It was irritating how quick her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears that she had to look away to hide them. She took a long drag to settle herself. “Thanks,” she said quietly, smoke billowing from her nose.

Carson was silent, the air thick with an unspoken question until finally he spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because believe it or not,” he said, “You’re not that hard to read.”

Her breath caught in her chest, staring fixedly at the untouched stretch of snow in the yard, feeling inexplicably like an exposed nerve. Swallowing thickly, she slowly met his eyes, almost expecting to see every single lie, every single confession waiting to stumble between her clenched teeth reflected back at her as though he knew all along. Just waiting for her to slip up and make a mistake and bleed herself dry. She didn’t know which was worse, the justified anger she had been expecting, or the gentle concern she found in his brown eyes instead.

When she took too long to respond, staring in a faint stupor, his frown deepened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Dani beat him to it. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” she stumbled out quickly, just a little sharply, and then softened when Carson blinked in surprise, the fight going out of her just as fast. “I just - I don’t like hurting him like that.”

Carson grinned softly. “I know,” he said, “But he’s gonna be fine. I promise. Before you know it, he’s going to be bugging you again about it. He’s relentless, remember?”

Dani nodded, almost unseeing as she took another long drag, weariness becoming a comfortable fixture in her bones. When she didn’t respond again, Carson put out his cigarette on the snow covered railing and wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a sigh. “Maybe you should run away after all,” he said.

A soft laugh escaped her, a small choked sound. She leaned against him when he chuckled and rubbed her shoulder, recalling a jar of loose change and crumbled bills left forgotten in some corner of her old bedroom with a fond, wistful smile.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I don’t know why I keep trying to write these. Why I keep thinking about them. There’s nowhere for them to go, no address to send to. I write one, put it in an envelope, and then a few days later I throw it away. There’s no point in keeping them. Just as there’s no point in putting them in the post box.

I’ve stopped turning around and expecting you to be there when I have something to say. I guess that’s why I’ve been writing less of these lately. If you were going to come back, or call, or write to me, then you would’ve done so by now.

I think that’s the hardest part. Knowing that everyone else is moving on, while I’m here. I’m still here. Sometimes I think I always will be.

I like to imagine you going to all those places we talked about. I like to imagine your life is better now. I like to imagine you keep a piece of me with you.

- Dani

—

The car had seen better days, this Dani knew. No one had to tell her that. No one had to tell her that every door creaked with the screech of metal at every movement. That the gas meter was wrong more often than not, displaying it half full when in fact it was wheezing it's last breath. The passenger's side was slightly dented and scraped, the undercarriage tinted red with rust. But it was hers, and hers alone.

She’d only had it for a week now, bought just a few days after returning home from college for the summer with the full intention of making the most of it. The steering wheel was solid in her hands, the stereo tinny and staticky, the leather worn and crackling. A contained pocket universe of her own. It had the faint smell of dust and cigarettes, and she had spent the following day cleaning the interior before hanging an air freshener on the rearview window, all too happy to restore it to her liking for the simple fact that no one could tell her otherwise.

It felt like a taste of freedom, driving it for the first time. The sun was a warm companion as it slanted through the windows onto her skin, the wind from the open window whipping at her hair as she spent her evenings driving through neighbourhoods, watching streets and buildings pass by with aching familiarity and a sweet fondness.

Nothing could break her spell of gratified happiness. Not even Karen who scoffed and muttered under her breath with scorn and distaste when she laid eyes on it, displeased that Dani spent all her hard earned money on a car that could pass for a junker. Even when Eddie tilted his head in bewilderment, failing to hide his grimace when she had proudly showed it off couldn't diminish the lightness in her chest. Ignoring his mutterings that he could have come along to the dealer to assist in favor of soaking in Judy’s proud appraisals for taking another leap forward into adulthood, and Mike’s patient smile and offer to look over the car for basic maintenance.

But it wasn’t any of their reactions she had been truly looking forward to. Patiently waiting a full week until finally Carson arrived home from his freshman year at college with slumped shoulders and bags under his eyes to idle the car in the driveway and press on the car horn until he stumbled outside in his new leather jacket.

When he spotted the car and just who was inside, his eyes brightened and he sped towards her. “Holy shit, you did it!” Dani laughed and stepped out just in time for him to wrap her in a tight hug. “God, I missed you.”

“We saw each other two weeks ago,” Dani said, smiling into his chest.

“Yeah, but this is different,” Carson said, leaning heavily into her and groaned, “School’s finally over.” Dani stumbled under the weight of his taller frame and they both laughed, teetering off balance briefly until finally he pulled back. “Okay, I wanna look at it.”

Dani bit back a broad grin as he watched him round the car with the expression of a solemn appraiser. Pulling open doors to peer inside with hums of consideration and sweeping a finger over the scratched paint. He rubbed said finger with his thumb as though brushing off crumbs and finally aimed an impressed expression towards her.

“Well?” Dani said, folding her arms in amusement.

“It’s a load of junk,” Carson said, and Dani snorted, “But I love it.”

Dani rolled her eyes and Carson laughed, slinging an arm around her neck “I can’t believe you did it, I’m so proud of you,” he said, placing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thanks,” she murmured with a small smile as she looked over the car.

“But you do realize though that you’re driving me everywhere from now on, right?”

With a derisive snort, Dani shoved him off, grinning when he laughed again. “In that case, you’re buying gas.”

“Ouch,” he said, wincing and pressing a hand to his chest, “No free rides? Not even for your favorite O’Mara?”

“Nope,” Dani said, her mouth curling with an impish grin, “Though I do have the perfect place in mind for the first drive.”

He brightened with curiosity. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Dani hummed, and without any fanfare, she pulled a folded envelope from the back pocket of her jeans and held it out towards him with a murmur, “Happy belated birthday.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “That was months ago.”

She shrugged shyly. “Wanted to do something special since we missed doing something last time,” she said, “And then I saw this, and well - I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.”

The look he gave her was warm, fondness blooming from his eyes. Without a word, he took the envelope and peeked inside. He gasped, his eyes going wide. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“These are - no fucking way. These are tickets to - ?“

“They are. The show’s in two days.”

“Holy shit. Holy shit, Dani!” He laughed brightly and pulled her into a back breaking hug, lifting her off her feet, murmuring thank yous on repeat in her hair.

The next two days were spent in anticipation and secrecy, having told no one but Mike their plans for the day. When the day finally arrived, they piled into Dani’s car and rushed down the street with breathless giggles in an effort to not get caught by anyone from either household. Carson, happy and eager for the concert, using her dashboard as a makeshift drum with the drumsticks he brought along, and Dani, relieved to finally have an excuse to drive somewhere that wasn’t drifting aimlessly through streets.

The road long and narrow ahead of them, Dani guided them out of town towards Des Moines, North Liberty slowly disappearing in the rearview mirror like a mirage. Driving away felt like leaving reality behind, if only for a while. It was the possibility of choice, itself an illusion. A pretty fantasy she could pantomime like an actor on stage. With nothing but flat fields of corn and grass on the horizon, the great blue sky yawning open above her, she teased at the notion of letting her car take her beyond Des Moines, beyond into the unknown. That she might never leave the road until her tires wore down to the rim or she reached the end of the world.

“How did you even afford all this?” Carson asked over the rumbling of car wheels on tarmac and music hissing from the stereo. “The car and the tickets. It must have cost a fortune.”

“Not really,” Dani said, keeping her eyes on the road, “Saved up a lot from working at that bookstore near campus and years of allowances. And believe it or not - “ she aimed a sly grin at him “ - the car came pretty cheap.”

Carson snorted and rolled his eyes, slouching back into his seat.

What she failed to mention was the handful of bills and change from a certain travel fund jar that had helped her along the way. The money having been tucked away for years in the dark corners of her room, lingering over her like a shadowed veil. It had added up to nothing more than fifty-six dollars, a small dent in what the car and tickets cost that it might as well have been water vapor for all it contributed. But it was long overdue. There was no leaving North Liberty, no traveling the world like she had once dreamed, but having a car of her own, a whole world of her own — it was as close she was ever going to get.

The concert, in the end, was bright and loud and the most fun Dani has had in years. Rough guitars and heavy drums that felt like thunder in her chest, it wasn’t the kind of music Dani would ever actively search out, but she couldn’t deny how easy it was to get caught up into it. The stage lights casting along the surging and dancing crowd. Carson beside her, cheering and singing along to every word with the crowd until he was hoarse. And Dani with her shoulders the lightest it’s been in years, an unknown spectre amongst a crowd of hundreds, with no expectations and constraints tangled around her neck.

On the drive home, loose-limbed and the humid night air thick and heavy as molasses, she kept the windows down to let in the breeze that cooled their skin and ruffled their hair. Carson slouched low in his seat, almost boneless as he fiddled with the radio with a happy grin and lethargic eyes.

“So,” Dani started, “did you have fun?”

“Do you even need to ask,” he croaked, his voice rough. Dani snorted, sparing him a fond smile as he finally settled on a station and leaned back against the headrest, soaking in the breeze. “Although, you’re on thin ice though for refusing to buy me a drink. And on my birthday, too.” He aimed a disappointed look at her and shook his head with a tisk.

She gave him a reproachful look. “You’re underage,” she said, “And your birthday is in February.”

Dani laughed as he grumbled beside her. But when he fell silent again, the hiss of the stereo and a distant rumble of thunder, the smell of rain in the air, he turned to her with an earnestly soft expression.

“Did I say thank you, yet?”

“About no less than a hundred times, I think,” Dani said with a quiet huff of laughter.

“I mean it this time,” he said, “Thank you for this. Really. I missed you guys.”

“We missed you too,” Dani murmured.

Instead of saying anything more, there was a look of hesitancy on his face, his eyes drifting down for a moment. “You know who else I miss?” Carson’s mouth curled into a plaintive grin, and without waiting for an answer, he murmured, “Jamie.”

Dani blinked in surprise, her eyes fixed on the red eyes of tail lights ahead in the darkened road, lightning flashing in darkened clouds in the distance as her knuckles went white against the steering wheel. Hearing that name again felt like the unexpected sound of shattering glass, like the first drops of rain against her skin. One she hasn’t heard spoken in a long time, forbidden and forgotten as though it were a curse. It had been years since Carson’s spoken of her, not since the following weeks after Jamie left. Quiet in his mourning like the rest of the family. Solemn whispers in corners and sidelong glances of concern and disquiet, gradually ebbing away until the jagged edges were smoothed with time until the memories were a faceless thing with no name. Swallowing thickly, she glanced briefly at him, at the fond wistfulness across his features as he stared through the windshield.

“Yeah?” she said in a gentle encouragement to continue.

Carson nodded and murmured, “Wish she was here. She would have loved the show.”

A dim ache spread across Dani’s chest, a fond smile pulling at her mouth. “Yeah,” Dani breathed, “She would’ve.”

Lightning flashed again, sparks of blue hanging low in the sky in the far distance, thunder following shortly in a slow roll. And all too easily, all too abruptly, Dani could hear Jamie’s voice in her head. ‘Looks like a big one, Poppins.’ Could picture her crooked grin and mischievous eyes, eager for another wild storm chase with Dani right at her heels. But they were in Dani’s car this time, and just the thought alone — of Jamie being here next to her, egging her on for another chase, teasing her for being the driver for once — left her feeling strained and bone weary with longing affection.

She found her foot gradually pushing down on the accelerator, urging her car faster down the highway in an effort to vanish the memories and to leave the storm behind them, thunder and lightning growing distant in the rear view mirror.

—

It was the end of the semester, and Dani had offered Eddie a ride back to North Liberty. A carpool to save them gas. It felt strange having him in the passenger seat. Normally he would insist on driving. Other cars Dani did not drive. Someone else would step towards the driver’s side, and she would shrink away towards the passenger seat. But nobody drove Dani’s car except her. Always.

Outside the sky had begun to darken, and the fields were a vast, flat silhouette beneath a deepening grey sky. Dani flicked on the headlights to illuminate the road. Beside her Eddie seemed content being in control of the radio station, fiddling with the dials until he arrived at some jazz or folk station that he preferred. The conversation was calm and easy. The two of them drifted from topic to topic, unafraid of the silences in between. Unlike his brothers, Eddie could sit in the silence of his own thoughts with another person for hours.

It was, Dani thought, one of the things she liked about him best. Being alone, together.

“Have you heard anything from the twins lately?” Dani asked.

Eddie tapped along to a soft jazzy beat in the background, his fingers gently keeping time against his knee. “Not much,” he said. “David’s still at that accounting job, and Tommy’s wedding is all scheduled for April.”

“Where’s that happening?”

“Cedar Rapids, I think.” Eddie turned his head towards her. “Will you come as my plus one?”

Smiling, Dani kept her eyes on the road. “Of course. What? Did you think I wasn’t going to go? Judy would drag me up there herself.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

“I’m going to need to buy a new dress, though.”

“Why? Your mom isn’t coming, is she?”

“Well, I don’t know. Tommy’s in charge of the wedding invitations.”

“And you think he’s going to send one to your mom?” Eddie asked, incredulous.

Dani shifted her grip upon the steering wheel. “You try telling her she can’t come.”

He made a face. “No, thanks.”

“Coward,” she said, shooting him a grin.

“And proud of it. Your mom is a lot.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

Silence again. The white noise of the tires across worn out asphalt beneath the faint strains of twelve-bar blues. Dani concentrated on the straight of road, while Eddie contemplated the stars dotting the horizon through the window.

They did not speak again until Dani pulled up to their childhood street and killed the engine in front of her mom’s house. By that time, night had washed over the earth. A few houses on the street burned through their windows with interior lights, bleeding warmth and attracting moths.

“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said into the quiet darkness of the car.

Dani smiled over at him. “Yeah. No problem.”

“You should come over for lunch tomorrow. Mom would love to see you.”

“I’ll be there at eleven,” Dani said.

“Great.”

Through the dim light, she could see him smile. He leaned over the center console and kissed her. His mouth was warm and soft, and he cradled her jaw in his palm. When she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she felt something. Could almost convince herself. The kiss was chaste yet lingering, and when he pulled away he stroked his thumb over the bluff of her cheek.

“Wish mom would let you stay over,” he murmured.

“Like old times?” Dani joked.

“Yeah.”

He leaned forward again. A brief kiss. And then he was gone. Opening the door and hauling himself out, striding across the street. Dani watched him all the way, as he fumbled with his keys at the front door, until finally he had entered his house and vanished from sight.

Her hand was still squeezing the steering wheel in a death grip. With a slow exhale, Dani let go and stepped out onto the street. Unlike the O’Mara house, her mom’s house was dark. When she unlocked the front door and pushed it open, she was greeted with darkness. The smell of cigarettes was familiar and overpowering. Not even a college campus full of hormonal twenty-somethings could compete.

For a moment she lingered, hand at the doorknob, teetering on the liminal space between outside and inside, between sacred and profane. The house itself was a yawning open space. A muzzle. Something with teeth that needed to be chained off from loss of limb. Snatching her hand away, Dani stepped forward and shut herself inside.

Creak of the floorboards beneath her feet. After so many years, this house managed to surprise her still. New groans, new sensitive spots on the floor to catalogue and avoid. Her eyes flicked towards the ceiling, but she heard nothing from above. Her mother must be dead asleep or otherwise out and about for the evening. Dani did not know. Nor did she particularly want to know.

Slowly, carefully, she crept upstairs. Flicking on the light in her room felt like an intrusion in and of itself. As though she had set something alight, touched a torch to the pyre and a roar of kindling. Shutting the door behind her, Dani changed into pajamas as quickly as she could and slipped beneath the sheets of her bed, book in hand. At first she did not open it, ears pricked, listening for clues, but the house was — as ever — usually silent.

She had only just cracked the book open to the marked page when her bedside table crackled with a faint voice. Frowning, Dani reached over, opened the top drawer, and found an old walkie talkie there. The radio was scuffed from use, wire mesh scraped and worn and half buried beneath miscellany. She picked it up and leaned back against the pillows, holding her breath for whoever was on the other end to make a noise again.

It was an irrational thought. A memory. A daydream. A secret. A wish. She clutched the radio to her chest in breathless anticipation, expecting —

“Danielle?”

The speaker crackled with disuse, louder than she had been expecting. Dani almost dropped it into her lap, had to fumble to keep it in one hand. Swallowing thickly, she lifted it and pressed down on the button.

“Eddie? Is that you?”

“Hey,” he said. “You’re still awake.”

“Yeah.”

“Your mom around?”

“No. But I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

Silence. It went on for so long that Dani pressed the button down again and prompted, “Eddie?”

“I’m here,” he said.

Her shoulders relaxed. She could almost imagine him sprawled out on the bed beside her, his large frame cramped in such a small space. She wished he were here, now. She wished he were warm and solid beneath her hand. She wished she could touch him. She wished she wasn’t alone. She wished -

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. It wasn’t even the second. It was however the first time Dani hesitated. Swallowing thickly, Dani found herself gazing at her bedside table again, at the photo of Jamie and herself propped there, at that broad blazing smile.

Dani squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand was squeezing the life from the walkie talkie, and she had to force her fingers to unclench. She pressed her thumb against the button and murmured, “Good night, Eddie.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Come home.’

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #dani clayton/jamie #bring home a haunting #bhah #damie #roman writes

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