I Was Already Gone novel · Chapter 13 of 24

Chapter 13: Wet Socks

Laney played the memo twice more on the bench outside the Kettle and Spoon, and each time she stopped it at Brecken's voice.

"He told me he wrote that song in one night," she said. "Because he was scared he'd never say it out loud."

"I know."

"He said it came to him all at once."

She pressed the phone against her chest.

"Don't tell anyone about this," she said. "Not Brecken, not the scout. Give me one night."

"Okay."

"That's all you're going to say?"

"I'm not in a hurry anymore," I said.

She laughed once, wetly, and walked away across the parking lot with the phone held in both hands.

On Friday night Roxie was sitting on our kitchen counter, eating cereal out of the box, with her cello case leaning against the fridge.

Gus was at the table with a pencil, drawing a diagram of the stage at the Hartwell Theater.

"The wings are here," he said. "If he runs, he runs left."

"Why would he run?" Roxie asked.

"Brecken runs from everything that isn't a mirror."

I was reading Roxie the third verse of the new song when somebody knocked on the door, three small knocks.

I knew that knock.

I had heard it through a wall for most of my life.

I opened the door, and Laney was standing in the hallway, soaked through, in a thin sweater with no coat.

Her hair was plastered to her forehead.

"It's raining," I said, stupidly.

"I know. I walked."

"From where?"

"From everywhere." She looked past me into the kitchen and saw Roxie on the counter. "Oh. I'm sorry. I can go."

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