All These Things I've Done (36 page)

I wasn’t sure what Mickey meant by that. Was it a threat against my brother? He seemed to be on very familiar terms with Yuji Ono, so perhaps it was about seeing Yuji and nothing more.

My seventeenth birthday was 12 August, and this, like every other day of that summer, was passed at Liberty. Scarlet had wanted to throw me a party in the visiting room, a proposition I seriously discouraged.

‘But, Anya,’ she protested, ‘I hate the thought of you alone on your birthday.’

‘I’m not alone,’ I assured her. ‘I sleep in a room with five hundred girls.’

‘Can’t I at least come to visit?’ Scarlet insisted.

‘No. I want no reason to remember my seventeenth birthday at all.’

The morning of my birthday, a guard came into the cafeteria to tell me that there was a visitor for me.

Oh, Scarlet, I thought, you never listen.

I went into the visiting room. It was early, barely 7.30, so no one was there except my visitor.

His hair was cropped short and he was wearing one of his school dress shirts and lightweight trousers. I had never known him in summertime, so I had never seen those trousers before. I, of course, was looking especially stylish in my navy jumpsuit. I ran my fingers through my knotted hair. I knew I wasn’t supposed to care what Win thought of me any more, but I did. Had I known he was coming, I might have had time to steel myself against him. I might have refused him altogether. But my feet kept walking me ineluctably towards the table where he sat, and then into a chair that was what they considered a respectable distance away.

Had I known he was coming, I certainly would have managed to bathe. I could not remember the last time I’d seen myself in a mirror. But it was just as well, I supposed. I would treat this as a visit from an old friend.

‘Good to see you, Win. I’d shake your hand,’ I said, ‘but . . .’ I pointed to the
NO CONTACT
sign that hung on the door.

‘I don’t want to shake your hand,’ he said, looking at me with cold blue eyes. Their hue seemed to have changed from sky blue to midnight since the last time I’d seen him.

‘Where’s your hat?’ I asked lightly.

‘I’ve given up on hats,’ he replied. ‘I was always leaving them places, and it had only gotten worse, now I’ve got this cane to manage.’ He nodded towards a walking stick which was resting on the table.

‘I’m sorry about that. Are you still in very much pain?’

‘I don’t want your pity,’ he said in a rough voice. ‘You’re a liar, Anya.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘I do,’ he said. ‘You told me you were going to that crime scene camp, and look where I find you.’

‘Well, this isn’t terribly far off, is it?’ I joked.

He ignored me. ‘So when I finally heard you were here – and it was a while because of the pains I took to avoid any mention of you – I couldn’t help but wonder what else you had lied about.’

‘Nothing,’ I said, willing my eyes not to tear. ‘Everything else was the truth.’

‘But we’ve already established that you’re a liar, so how can I believe anything you say?’ Win asked.

‘You can’t,’ I said.

‘You told me you were in love with someone else,’ Win said. ‘Was this a lie?’

I did not reply.

‘Was it a lie?’

‘The truth is . . . The truth is, it doesn’t matter if it’s a lie. If it’s a lie, it’s one I need to be the truth. Win, please don’t hate me.’

‘I wish I did hate you,’ he said. ‘I very much wish I wasn’t here.’

‘Me, too,’ I said. ‘You shouldn’t have come.’

And then I leaned across the table and I grabbed his hair, what was left of it, and I kissed him hard on the mouth.

For that moment, I was a person without a last name and so was he. We did not have fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, grandparents, uncles, or cousins to remind of us of what we owed or were owed.
Obligation, consequence, tomorrow
– the words did not exist, or perhaps I had temporarily forgotten their meanings.

All I could think of was Win, and how much I wanted him.

‘No kissing!’
yelled a guard who had just come on duty.

I pulled away, and Anya Balanchine was restored to me. ‘I shouldn’t have done that,’ I said.

That was when I kissed him again.

May God forgive me for this and all these things I’ve done.

Gabrielle lives in New York and is a graduate of Harvard University.

First published in the US 2011 by Farrar Straus Giroux
First published in the UK 2011 by Macmillan Children’s Books

This electronic edition published 2012 by Macmillan Children’s Books
a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
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Associated companies throughout the world
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ISBN 978-1-4472-1327-7 EPUB

Copyright © Gabrielle Zevin 2011

The right of Gabrielle Zevin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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