Between by Jessica Warman Page A

She was always skinny, but lately she’d been losing an awful lot of weight. I mean, that’s why they think she died, right? The hypoglycemia, combined with all the booze in her system? We did a body mass index on ourselves in health class last spring, and she was way underweight.” He appears to be thinking, remembering. “Anyway, it wasn’t just all the weight loss. I don’t think the two were connected. It was more than that. She’d become kind of distant with me. And at first I thought, okay, so she’s obsessed with running. She was always great at distance, but speed was never her thing. I figured she was trying to get faster. Maybe she was taking it a little bit too far. I mean, it wasn’t unusual for her to get up at five in the morning and go for a two-hour run before school.” He shakes his head. “Crazy. She was nuts about it.”
    “What made you think it was something else?” Joe asks. “Something other than just an obsession with running? Josie told you?”
    Richie nods. “Yeah, Josie told me. It was a couple of weeks before junior prom. I’d been trying to get in touch with Liz all day, but she wasn’t answering her phone. So I walked to her house—you know she’s only two doors down—but she wasn’t home. I got to talking with Josie. That’s when she told me.”
    “He’s wrong,” I say firmly. “I never would have cheated on him. Never.”
    “Think hard,” Alex says. “Can you remember anything at all?”
    “No, but it doesn’t matter! I don’t have to remember to be sure. It’s impossible.”
    Alex takes a long moment to study me. “I can’t believe you,” he says.
    “What can’t you believe?”
    “That you’re still like this. Even after everything that’s happened to you, you’re still a nightmare of a human being. If he says you cheated on him, you probably did. At least, I believe him. You’re selfish. You’re superficial. If someone better than Richie came along and took an interest in you, I bet you’d cheat in a second.”
    “I didn’t cheat on him!” I shout as loud as I possibly can. “I loved him, Alex. I might not have been that nice to you, but with Richie, things were different. And besides, if I had cheated on him—which I didn’t —why would I deny it now?” I demand. “Why would I possibly lie to you?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe you don’t remember yet. Or maybe you don’t want me to think you’re a bad person.”
    My voice is shaky. “Alex, I am telling you the truth. Yes, I don’t remember everything from before I died, but there isn’t anything else to remember when it comes to this. I’ve known Richie since we were two years old. Something isn’t right. I never would have hurt him.”
    And then, as if on cue, Richie says, “I don’t think she meant to hurt me. We’d been together so long, maybe she felt like she needed to … I don’t know, to see what else was out there.” He swallows. “Anyway, I didn’t believe Josie. I called her a liar and everything. But then she said she’d prove it to me. She drove me into Groton, to this apartment complex by the river. We found Liz’s car. It was outside the building of this guy I know.”
    Richie is holding a corner of his bedspread, a maroon-and-navy-blue patchwork quilt, in his left fist. With his right hand, he tugs at the threads in the seam, working them into a fray. His eyes are still watery. As I listen to what he’s saying, I realize that I don’t remember any of it happening. Not only that, but—despite what Alex might think—it sounds completely unlike anything I would do. I don’t even know anyone who lives in Groton. It’s like someone has taken a cheese grater to my memory. The feeling is beyond frustrating.
    But why would Richie lie? Looking at him as he picks nervously at the quilt, I know without a doubt that he believes he’s telling the truth.
    “A guy you know,” Joe echoes. “What was his name? How do you know him?”
    “It was this guy named