The Half Life of Molly Pierce by Katrina Leno Read Free Book Online Page A

They go.”
    “Or they stay.”
    “Yes. They stay in abandoned buildings forever. Grow up. Have kids. Paint murals.”
    “We wouldn’t have to stay here.”
    He’s so sincere and his sincerity makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know where to put it.
    “Don’t you want him to be happy?” I say. I don’t know where these words come from; they jump to my throat and escape before I can stop them.
    He looks like he’s thinking about it. He actually looks like he’s considering it. The happiness of another human being. Does it matter to him? Does it mean anything?
    “No,” he says. “Not about this. This is mine.”
    “Jesus, I’m not a conquest.”
    “But I—”
    “It doesn’t matter. It’s over. It doesn’t matter.”
    “It should,” he says and you can see him regret it immediately.
    He should regret it immediately.
    He’s a child and he’s an asshole and there are a million things I could say to him, but I don’t say anything.
    I turn and walk away.
    He says my name once, choking, pleading, and I don’t turn around. I say, “Don’t follow me, Lyle,” and I leave the warehouse. I walk past his motorcycle and I get in my car and I drop my phone underneath the seat, but I don’t bend down to pick it up because it’s better if I can’t answer him. If he calls me, I don’t want to answer him.
    I look up at the warehouse and for a second I can see him in one of the windows, but then he’s gone, he’s backed away, and in some corner of my mind I realize he’s going to follow me. He loves me and I don’t love him and he thinks he can change my mind. He thinks you can convince someone to love you.
    I drive too fast. I want to get away from here; I need to get back to school. I don’t know why I came at all. I shouldn’t have come. I should have learned by now that Lyle isn’t Lyle anymore. He’s not my friend. He’s something else. When someone falls in love with you like that, he stops being your friend. He stops caring about your friendship and he only cares about wanting you to love him back.
    I’m on Water Street when I feel myself slipping. Receding, fading.
    I look in the rearview mirror. There I am. I look just like Molly. I am Molly. My name is Molly. Molly’s family is my family. Molly’s life is my life. Molly’s mistakes are my mistakes.
    Only she doesn’t have to live with them.
    I do.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
    HarperCollins Publishers
    ..................................................................
SIX.
    S ayer finds me on a bench outside the funeral parlor. It’s cold. I’m cold. My teeth are chattering and he has to pull me up. My legs are stiff. He promises coffee inside. It’s not the best coffee, he says, but it’s hot. Just come inside. We’re almost done. We don’t have to go to the burial. I will take you home. You can go to sleep early. Are you tired? You look tired. Just come and have some coffee and then I will bring you home.
    He leads me into a little sitting room that is empty of any dead people, any closed coffins. He gets me a cup of coffee and then he disappears somewhere.
    The coffee’s effect is almost instantaneous. I feel life returning to my veins, blood speeding up, my heart pumping gratefully. My fingers are slowly thawing out. It’s been a warm October so far. When did it get so cold?
    I drink the whole thing and then I get up and stretch and find a garbage can. It’s filled halfway with identical paper cups. The last dregs of greasy, bitter coffee. I drop mine in with the others and watch it settle. What I saw outside, what I remembered or what I dreamed up or what I fabricated, it’s begging to be considered. It’s right there inside my veins and it’s crawling under my skin and it’s looking for a way to come up to the surface. But I don’t want it to. I mean, I don’t want to think about it. Not right now. Because I don’t know what it means and I don’t know if it’s the truth and I