That's Not My Name

by Megan Lally

His hair looks like it’s thinking of going gray but hasn’t committed to the change.

sounds like another thing that used to make me happy and now sounds like a nightmare.

I don’t know which Wayne is in this cabin with me—the attentive father or the kidnapper.

Get in, losers, we’re going sleuthing.”

This looks like a place where dreams go to die.

I’ve been dreading this day for months. I knew it would be a walking nightmare, but I still found myself dressed and driving into town as soon as the bakery opened. Because this is what I do on Lola’s birthday. I go to the bakery. I buy her a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting and gold sprinkles. We stick a pink candle in it, and she makes an outlandish wish. For world peace. For every illness to disappear. For nobody to ever get their heart broken. For a perfect life. And then we laugh, and she eats the cupcake, frosting first. Then Autumn comes around—wherever we are—and she too gives Lola a cupcake. And Lola pretends to be surprised that we each got her one, even though we always do.

My dads have been begging me to talk to someone for months, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I shouldn’t get to feel better when I’m the cause of so much pain.

“The audacity of that man. To pretend like he didn’t bungle this investigation from the beginning and try to blame you for everything. I’m so sorry you have to relive this, Drew.” As if I wasn’t on the receiving end of their hatred a few short months ago. Like they wouldn’t have run me out of town too if my dads hadn’t stepped in with a lawyer to make it stop. I’ve graduated from “evil son of a bitch who killed Lola” to the “hero who charged into a serial killer’s den to save a stranger.” I’ve never seen so many people backtrack so fast. Now I’m a gem. Now they’re so sorry for my loss. Now they’re protecting me from the media and they have my back. Now they want me to raise my pitchfork against the newest most-hated person in the county like I don’t know what it’s like to hold that title myself. Their support is almost worse than the hatred. It’s made of nothing but guilt, and I’m not interested in their guilt. I have enough of my own.

My phone rings a third time and I shimmy it out of my pocket with a huff. Autumn’s face shines back at me from the screen. I sit up and hit the answer button. “What?” “What’s with the ’tude, dude?” Nope. Not Autumn. “Max?” He laughs. “My phone was dead, so I borrowed hers.” God, I hate couples. “What do you want?”

I ghosted the girl who saved my life because she looked a little too much like the girl I threw to the wolves.

Madison runs back and pulls me down by the water. She spreads out Lola’s jacket on the concrete—keeping it safely out of reach of the waves. She sits on one side, and I sit on the other, carefully placing the cupcake in the middle of the fabric. I reach out and light the candle. The breeze from the river tries to put it out, but I cup my hands around it. “Happy birthday, Lola,” Madison whispers. My eyes sting again. I watch the flame, knowing exactly what her wish would be if she were here to make another one. It would be a grandiose wish that would cover everyone she loves, forever. So I make the wish for her. A wish that everyone she loved would be okay. The breeze blows out the tiny flame and I pretend it was her. I’m not okay yet, but I’ll survive today. I’ll survive the days to come. Somehow. Lola’s disappearance left me on the edge of a dark, horrifying cliff. Her death threw me over. But I don’t know what to do with this next part. I somehow have to live a life after Lola. I don’t have a choice. I’m still here. She’d want me to make the most of it.

I’m not the least bit surprised to find Autumn and Max parked a few spaces beyond her car. They look guilty, but I wave them over. The three of us sit side by side at the water, Lola’s jacket draped over Autumn’s legs, and we trade stories about her until the sun sinks below the trees. We celebrate the girl we’ll never stop missing. It’s dark when we head back to our cars. Max and Autumn laugh and hold hands on the way to the Liberty. I hang back by the top of the launch and watch them walk away together, imagining what Lola would say right now. Something about them being the cutest. How happy they are. How great our lives are going to be. I look out at the water one last time. Lola’s cupcake sits on the ramp in the moonlight. The weight on my shoulders slips away a bit. Just enough to finally breathe. “Happy Birthday, Lola,” I whisper.