“On Our Way,” Collaboration with Jamie Paul, part 8/8
(See Jamie Paul, Image 
Setting: Thea slips out the back entrance of her apartment building, and crosses a field, heading toward Knox’s car, parked on the side of the road. Saturday, May, 2009. (Continued from Based on a True Story, Sketches 1-7.)
It’s just so strange, doing something, going into it, knowing you’re gonna have no choice but to completely lie or even just keeping a secret from the person you trust most in the world. I never got that until now, how it was possible, but I see it now, I really do. Like how you do it because you’re trying to keep somebody safe, like you’re actually trying to do what’s right by the person you love. I mean, yeah, even if what that means is that you’re always hiding something from them, and that something is you, really. Then again, I don’t know, you know, maybe I’m just making up excuses to cover my ass and Cam’s ass in one fell swoop.
Knox finally agreed. He checked for prints, but of course none of them were Cam’s, and I wouldn’t let it go, either. I really was serious about telling Foley, giving him the postcard if Knox wouldn’t take me to New York just to look. All I wanted was to look at the places, try to find the places where Cam took me. And I told him, if you don’t take me, I’ll go alone, and you won’t be able to stop me, either. So he gave in. But of course the deal was that I couldn’t tell Melody, because she’d want to go, and there was no way we could take her. I didn’t see why not, but I could sort of understand that it was too much for Knox to deal with, too much hiding.
Saturday morning, I woke before my alarm went off. I had plenty of time, so I sat up in bed, and I just looked at my sheets. I told my mom I was going out, drawing all day, because I needed some air. She agreed I needed to get out of the house. Funny, I didn’t feel bad lying to my mom, but I felt awful, lying to Mel.
I told her I had to get some work done, we only had another month of school, and my grades hadn’t improved any, that’s for sure. I looked her in the eye, and I lied, and it does something to you, seeing how much the person trusts you. They believe you, and you know you’re lying. Even when it’s because you want to protect them, keep them safe. Is this how it feels? Is this how he felt, when we were together?
She wouldn’t forgive me, if she found out. I knew that. And she’d be right, too. Because she trusted me. I couldn’t even think about it, really, breaking her trust, so I didn’t. And when I couldn’t help not thinking about it, I just told myself I was trying to put her and her family first. And every time something in my head said, What if she finds out? What will you do if she finds out? I turned it off, like volume. I mean, really, what choice did I have?
Anyhow. Knox said we needed to leave early, so I washed my face and brushed my teeth as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake my mom. It wasn’t even seven, and it was quiet outside, I probably could’ve gone out the front way, but just in case, I went out the back way, slipping across the field, behind our building, heading to the stop sign, where the bus picks me up.
Walking there, though, walking to Knox’s car, all I could think was, So this is how you do it, huh? This is how you lie and cheat and sneak off, before anyone knows what’s going on, before their eyes are even open. Who knew it was so easy? Not me. Not until now. Such a hypocrite, right?
I mean, all the stories people have made up about me, like how upset I’ve been, hearing people lie about me, and there I was, lying along with everyone else, you know? And the strangest part was how I felt so close to Cam at that moment, everything so quiet outside, so still. I understood, at least a little bit, how he’d done that to me for six months, every day. Honestly, at that moment, knowing there was no turning back with Mel, come what may, I can’t tell you how close I felt to him then. So close, yet so far. Whatever.
Knox didn’t turn his head, drinking his coffee, but I know he saw me coming. So I opened the door, got in. He was drinking out of one of those silver and black travel mugs, and then he put the cup back in its cup holder, soon as I put on my seat belt. I didn’t say anything, getting in. I didn’t want to talk, and the great thing about Knox is, neither does he. As the rule, not the exception. I looked back, at the backside of our building, which looked even lonelier than the front side, believe it or not. Knox pulled out, and we were on our way.