He smiles at me and reaches for my hand, shaking it once, and covering the back with his other hand to hold it tightly. “I know you do. We can tell you really do,” he says. “We talked about this all night, Nate. And Karen…she wasn’t sure I should come talk to you this morning. But…we need your help.”

And suddenly my stomach drops again. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong with Rowe…

“Josh passed away. Just a few days ago.” As soon as he says it I know why he’s here. This will destroy her. Rowe loves me, and I know she loves me. But Josh has her heart. Not like a boyfriend, but like a memory. He has her heart trapped—trapped in that day, trapped in what they were, and trapped under a mountain of guilt over everything they weren’t.

“What do you need me to do?” I’ll do anything. Hell. And. Back.

“It’s true—about the job. And we’re selling the house and moving. But the trip? That part we made up. We were just going to take her on vacation for the holiday. But thank you for saving us from doing that. We want to be gone before she knows. It may not make sense to you, and I know I sound like the worst man on earth for doing this, but I can’t let my baby girl go back—she’ll get stuck, Nate. And I just need to make sure there’s no way for her to get back in, back into that past, when I tell her. I just need you to be there for her when I do. Because it is going to break her.”

“I understand,” I say, my skin suddenly tingling with panic. I know so much…so much more than Rowe. But it’s her life I know about. And I have to keep this new information in that other box, the one that I don’t mix with things just for her. And I am going to have to lie to her.

Tom Stanton pats me on the back, pulling his sunglasses back out of his pocket before reaching forward to shake my hand one more time. “Like I said, Nate. Karen and I are so glad Rowe met you. You’ve been good for her,” he says, stepping up a level into the stands. “They’ll be here in an hour. So, this…just between us, okay? I came out here to watch your swing.”

“Yes sir,” I say, my mouth in a hard flat smile as I push the mask over my eyes and hide how I really feel from the world.

Chapter 26

Rowe

Ever since my parents left, Nate has been different. I don’t know how to explain it—he’s still with me, still physical, and still says he loves me. But he seems to go somewhere else entirely sometimes, like he’s in the moment, our moment, and then suddenly he’s not.

“What about this one?” Cass asks, holding up a nurse’s outfit from the costume rack at the Goodwill in Oklahoma City.

“Kinda slutty,” I say with a wrinkled nose. My response gets Paige’s attention.

“Oooooh, lemme see,” Paige says, taking the naughty nurse outfit from her sister and walking over to a mirror to hold it up against her body. I’m pretty sure her boobs won’t fit in it, but then again…maybe that’s the point.

We’ve been shopping for Halloween costumes in the city for an hour. Paige’s sorority is throwing a huge party at their house off campus, and when she invited Cass and me, I actually felt excited. Maybe it’s just the idea of dressing up and pretending to be someone I’m not. Somehow, that makes it easier to be in a crowd—like hiding out in the open.

“What did you pick?” Cass asks, still sorting through the various costumes piled on the floor.

“Ghost,” I say, holding up the sheet I found for ninety-nine cents.

“That’s lame. You can’t be a ghost,” she says.

“She’s right. I’ll pretend I don’t know you if you show up in that crap,” Paige says over the curtain of the small changing room. She steps out in the nurse’s outfit, which she has crammed her tits into, and Cass and I just look at each other and try not to laugh.

“I think I’m getting it,” Paige says, pushing the halter up to make her boobs even more the main focus.

“Good call,” I say, and when Paige ducks back into the curtain to change, Cass and I let out a silent laugh.

“Okay, so not a ghost. What should I be then,” I ask, throwing the sheet back on the shelf nearby but keeping an eye on it, just in case. I watch as Cass sorts through a few more costumes and then her eyes light up.

“I got it!” She holds up what looks like an old-time woman’s baseball uniform, and it’s actually not half bad.

“Hmmmmm, maybe,” I say, walking over and holding it up in the mirror.

“You’ll need to tart it up a little,” she says, tucking the shirt into itself to show what it would look like with a crop.