Page 47 of We Were Liars

END OF THE second week, I find Johnny alone in the yard, building a structure out of Lego pieces he must have found at Red Gate.

I’ve got pickles, cheese straws, and leftover grilled tuna from the New Clairmont kitchen.

We decide not to go on the roof since it’s just the two of us.

We open the containers and line them up on the edge of the dirty porch.

Johnny talks about how he wants to build Hogwarts out of Lego.

Or a Death Star. Or, wait! Even better is a Lego tuna fish to hang in New Clairmont now that none of Granddad’s taxidermy is there anymore.

That’s it. Too bad there’s not enough Lego on this stupid island for a visionary project such as his.

“Why didn’t you call or email after my accident?” I ask. I hadn’t planned to bring it up. The words spring out.

“Oh, Cady.”

I feel stupid asking, but I want to know.

“You don’t want to talk about Lego tuna fish instead?” Johnny vamps.

“I thought maybe you were annoyed with me about those emails. The ones I sent asking about Gat.”

“No, no.” Johnny wipes his hands on his T-shirt. “I disappeared because I’m an asshole. Because I don’t think through my choices and I’ve seen too many action movies and I’m kind of a follower.”

“Really? I don’t think that about you.”

“It’s an undeniable fact.”

“You weren’t mad?”

“I was just a stupid fuck. But not mad. Never mad. I’m sorry, Cadence.”

“Thanks.”

He picks up a handful of Legos and starts fitting them together.

“Why did Gat disappear? Do you know?”

Johnny sighs. “That’s another question.”

“He told me I don’t know the real him.”

“Could be true.”

“He doesn’t want to discuss my accident. Or what happened with us that summer. He wants us to act normal and like nothing happened.”

Johnny’s lined his Legos up in stripes: blue, white, and green. “Gat had been shitty to that girl Raquel, by starting up with you. He knew it wasn’t right and he hated himself for that.”

“Okay.”

“He didn’t want to be that kind of guy. He wants to be a good person. And he was really angry that summer, about all kinds of things. When he wasn’t there for you, he hated himself even more.”

“You think?”

“I’m guessing,” says Johnny.

“Is he going out with anyone?”

“Aw, Cady,” says Johnny. “He’s a pretentious ass. I love him like a brother, but you’re too good for him. Go find yourself a nice Vermont guy with muscles like Drake Loggerhead.” Then he cracks up laughing.

“You’re useless.”

“I can’t deny it,” he answers. “But you’ve got to stop being such a mushball.”