No One Knows Us Here: A Novel by Rebecca Kelley

Author:Rebecca Kelley [Kelley, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2023-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

It started to snow. Gently at first, melting at first contact. Now it was falling in tufts as big as cherry blossoms, gathering on branches, blanketing the streets.

I kept meaning to talk to Wendy, to invite myself into her room for a little heart-to-heart chat, but I put it off. She might be sleeping in there. The nurse said she needed rest. Maybe I should talk to someone first, a professional. A doctor.

I wouldn’t talk to her, I decided, not today. I would simply be there for her, make her some lunch, bring it to her on a tray. When I emerged from the kitchen with the tray piled with cheese and crackers and slices of apple and carrots, Wendy was standing in the entryway, all bundled up, her boots and coat on. She held up a hand in a wave. “I’m going to Hannah’s,” she said.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” I said. “It’s snowing.”

“She has snow tires.”

“It’s supposed to get worse, isn’t it?” We both looked out the window as if to confirm the weather report. Yep. Snow was falling down, thicker than ever. The window was a blur of white.

“I’m spending the night.” Wendy opened the door then, letting in a blast of cooler air from the hallway.

I wanted to run after her, but I wasn’t dressed for it. I still hadn’t bought a new coat, and I couldn’t find my shoes. I ran out into the hallway in my socks, following Wendy down the stairs. “Wendy, wait, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She was running, flying down the stairs, and I was chasing after her yelling, “We don’t leave each other, no one is leaving!” And then we were in the lobby.

“Wendy—”

“Bye!” She slammed through the apartment doors. I hesitated for a moment before I shot after her, onto the street. Wendy scrambled into the passenger side of Hannah’s car. It was a compact SUV, with a rack on top for skis. It did look like the type of car that would have snow tires. Hannah didn’t seem like someone who enjoyed skiing. Maybe it was her parents’ car.

I’d met Hannah a few times, but only briefly. She was older than Wendy, already driving. When I asked Wendy why an older kid would want to hang out with a freshman, Wendy took offense, acting as if I had disparaged her entire personality, so I dropped it. Sometimes Hannah would give Wendy a ride home from school, and the two of them would rush in and disappear into Wendy’s room for hours at a time.

She was very unusual-looking, with huge brown eyes set in a tiny, heart-shaped face under a messy mound of tangled dark hair piled on top of her head in a deliberately unkempt way. She was tiny, tinier than I was, always bundled in endless layers. Tights and a skirt and knee-high slouch socks. A tank top and an oversize flannel shirt, with a cardigan and a denim jacket and a scarf that wrapped around and around the top half of her torso.

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