Page 70 of Not Quite Dead Yet

‘– Emily drowned, yeah. Forgot you were there that day.’

‘I didn’t forget.’ Billy abandoned his beer, chewed his thumb instead. Could he still hear her mom’s screams too, if he searched his memories far enough?

Jet cleared her throat. ‘You know, I was never allowed to have my hair long after that day. Mom forced me to cut it short, even though I hated it. Guess it kind of stuck with me.’ Jet fiddled with the ends of her hair, skimming her shoulders.

‘I remember,’ Billy said. ‘No one was allowed to go in your pool unless there were two adults there, constantly watching. And no swimming under the surface ever, especially anywhere near the drain.’

Jet sniffed. Looked into Billy’s watery eyes. She could just tell him. She’d never told anyone before – not Luke, not Sophia, not JJ – and if she didn’t now, it would probably die with her.

‘You know, I …’ She stopped herself, false start. Pushed herself to try again. ‘My mom, she blames me for Emily’s death. Said it was my fault.’

Billy blinked. ‘What are you talking about? You weren’t even there.’

‘Exactly,’ Jet said. ‘It was my fault both my parents were out that afternoon, watching me at the competition. If I hadn’t reached the final, Mom and Dad would have been at home, and Emily wouldn’t have died.’ Jet dropped her chin, hiding it behind Billy’s collar. ‘I overheard Mom saying it to Dad, right after the funeral. That it wasmyfault Emily died.’

Billy shuffled, his shoes pressing against hers. ‘That’s crazy.’

‘She blames your dad too,’ Jet sniffed. ‘It always has to be someone’s fault.’

‘My dad?’

‘Yeah. Apparently they passed him on the way to the competition, and my mom asked your dad if he could check in on Luke and Emily in a couple of hours. Emily was sixteen, Luke was thirteen, andmandid they fight all the time. I guessshe was worried about them killing each other while they were out. And I guess your dad never did go check.’

Billy shook his head. ‘Emily’s death was a freak accident; it wasn’t anyone’s fault her hair got stuck in the –’

‘– I know,’ Jet interrupted him. ‘But my mom doesn’t know that. I think she’s punished me for it ever since.’

Jet tapped her foot, nudging against Billy’s. Something else she’d never told anyone: ‘Those were all Emily’s plans, you know. She was the one who wanted to go to Dartmouth, then UPenn for law school. I tried, but …’ Had she really tried, though? Survived Dartmouth – never felt at home there, never made any lasting friends to fill the hole Sophia left – just buckled down, eyes on her shiny future. And then it was there, Jet had it, just as shiny as she’d imagined, and she’d given up law school as soon as she found any reason to, like she’d been waiting for a way out. Why was that? ‘You remember what Emily was like, don’t you? So cool, so sure, so smart, she didn’t even have to try. Effortless. I wanted to be just like her. She won that same spelling bee, you know, when she was ten too. Being Emily, it just came so easy to her. But it wasn’t easy for me. Guess I never really filled those shoes, huh?’

Billy pressed his toes against hers, a half-smile. ‘You’ve only got little feet.’

Jet snorted, kicked him away.

‘I know your mom is hard on you,’ he said, dropping the smile. ‘But she does it because she cares.’

‘Really?’

‘Well, she didn’t up and leave when you were eighteen, sent two birthday cards then forgot the rest, no phone call ever, no explanation, no idea where she is.’ Billy ran his hands through his hair, finger tracks breaking up the curls. ‘That’s a mom who doesn’t care, Jet.’

Jet caught his eye, a warm creep of guilt stirring in her gut.

‘I’m sorry about your mom, Billy.’

‘And I’m sorry about yours. Moms, huh?’

‘Moms.’

They clinked beer bottles.

‘Right, let’s stop being depressing,’ Jet said. ‘Acting like somebody died over here.’

‘You’re doing that on purpose now, Jet.’

‘Let’s go back to talking about you becoming a famous singer.’

‘Let’s not.’

‘Is that a Tile tracker on your guitar case?’ She pointed.