Every Little Piece (11 page)

“Mom,” I said.

She set up the tray in my bed and kept talking about the weather. The sunshine. The warmth. The budding flowers.

“Mom!” I said louder.

She stopped and sat on the edge of the bed. Dark circles shadowed her eyes and her hair frizzed out around her face.

“It’s okay. You can stop the special treatment.”

Tears brimmed her eyes, and she stumbled over words before getting a full sentence out. “We want to make sure you’re okay.” She knew better than to ask how I was doing every five minutes. “Your friends from school have called. A girl named Justine wants to stop by.”

“Seth?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? Where is he?” But then I caught myself. I couldn’t feel sorry for myself just because Seth hadn’t stopped by once. My friends were dead. “Never mind. I don’t care.”

Mom paused and from experience I knew she wanted to talk about something.

“What?” I asked.

She rubbed the top of my hand. “The funeral and memorial service are tomorrow.”

The question behind her words hung in the air. Horror rushed up and stole my breath. “I can’t go. I can’t go. I can’t go.” Panic rose, threatening to suck me under.

She set the tray aside and pulled me to her. “Shh. It’s okay. You don’t have to. I just wanted to let you know.”

All of a sudden the same four walls of my bedroom were a prison. The corkboard plastered with my memories on the opposite wall dug into my soul. I grabbed the mirror on the nightstand and threw it at the wall. Shattered glass hit the floor. This summer was supposed to be filled with more memories. More ticket stubs and photos at the beach. More laughter and more smiles.

Mom hugged me again, to try and stop my shaking.

“I need to get out,” I said.

“Sure thing. I can set you up on the back deck.”

“No, I mean I need to be alone. I’ll take my bike.”

She tilted her head as if analyzing me to make sure I wasn’t about to do something stupid.

“I’ll be okay. I can’t sit inside forever.” I glanced over at the corkboard. “And while I’m gone can you take down everything. I can’t take it anymore.”

She nodded sadly. “Want Noah or your dad to go with you?”

I reached out and slipped my hand into hers. “Maybe Noah could drive me over to Raker’s Bluff?” I squeezed her hand. “I’ll be okay. I can’t live inside the house forever.”

What I didn’t tell her was that I had decisions to make. I needed to talk to them, to Brin and Kama. I needed to talk to them alone, where the waves, sky, and clouds would be the only witnesses. And maybe, wherever they were, they’d forgive me. If I was lucky.

The minivan was past repair. Mom and Dad sold it to the junkyard for scraps and bought a used one. Brand new with smooth metal just where it should be with no lingering scars.

I lied to everyone, especially myself. That was what my life was becoming. A lie. A cloud had descended and covered my sins and hidden my face and blinded my eyes. Only there, would I find silence. Protected from the flashes of memories, the laughter, her smile, her eyes that haunted me. Protected from that night. The driving, the crash, the wails and the night my life ended. If I lived in the haze of the cloud, I’d forget. Everything would fade.

That was why I’d been doing chores around the house. Anything to keep busy. I spread mulch and pulled early weeds in Mom’s garden. I didn’t like to be around people. I carried a secret so big that if people neared me, they sensed it. They either moved away or they drew close and nosed around with questions as if they cared and wanted to help. But I didn’t want help. This pain I carried, this secret that burdened me, was mine to bear.

Graduation slipped by but none of that mattered. I couldn’t go, not after the night before. Playing soccer at college turned into a thing of the past. I refused to play, and I didn’t miss it. Not when I was still alive and breathing. I had a blessing I didn’t deserve.

I dug my fingers down below the mulch into the moist soil. It was in work that I forgot. It was here that I found comfort. The earth knew. The flowers died every spring just to grow again the next year. They were silent and didn’t share their secrets. I never told Carter, but he put the pieces together in the past few days and an awkwardness—a big, gaping black hole—separated us. He didn’t know what to say to fill the gap, and I had nothing to say to ease his discomfort.

Carly had stopped by. She tried to make me see that it was an accident, that it wasn’t my fault, that it wasn’t Haley’s fault. It was fate. I called bullshit on her, because I knew a tiny part of her felt responsible too, even though I’d made it impossible for her to stop me that night. I told her to leave this town, leave it behind and go start fresh somewhere. To forget. To move on.

I once had seen that in my future with Haley. But all I saw now was white space, endless and drifting. There was no mountain to climb or goal to conquer and cross off my list. I floated through time and it let me wander. That was when I got back to work. But with every weed I pulled, the what-if questions screamed through my head, and I desperately wished to go back and change the events that happened. Not for me. Not for selfish reasons. But for Kama and Brin and their families. And for Haley, so she didn’t have to live with this loss.

I kept working, trying to go numb.

I was lost in these kinds of thoughts as I had been lately. I was in that place when I heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway. I sucked in a breath, praying it wasn’t Haley.

I glanced back to see her brother, Noah. I wiped the dirt off my hands and got off my knees. He drew close to me, the grief rolling off in suffocating waves. I’d known him for years. The regret that he couldn’t protect his sister from pain must be killing him. And it was my fault. He must hate me.

“Why?” he asked.

I felt a sudden pang of fear that he knew. That it was my fault two classmates were dead and that Haley was doomed to live a life filled with grief and survivor’s guilt. But then I was such a chicken shit. I should’ve gone to the police right away. But as each day passed it was easier to live with this burden of guilt for that was punishment. To walk through life but not really live and not feel the joys of life was harder than sitting in a cell. Or I truly was a coward and couldn’t face the pain I’d see in Haley’s eyes when she learned the truth. I couldn’t bear to see her love turn to hate.

I finally answered Noah. “Why what?” My voice was like a croak, my throat dry from lack of talking and living.

“Why have you left her when she needs you the most?” he asked.

I studied him. He stared at my handiwork, without seeing. I saw glimpses of Haley in his eyes and expressions of pain, but he was able to keep his emotions more carefully guarded than her. I wanted to answer but words escaped me. Anything I said wouldn’t make sense. But I tried.

“She needs her family right now. I don’t want to be in the way.” It was a lame answer and each word out of my mouth screamed I was a hypocrite.

He turned, the rage palpable in his eyes and in the hard lines of his jaw and tense shoulders. The muscles rippled in his arm, and I thought he’d punch me. I’d welcome it. Instead, his words floated like a whisper on a breeze.

“She needs you.”

I shrugged and stated the truth. “I can’t be there for her. I’m not the one she needs, and I can’t bring back her friends.”

Finally, he pushed my shoulder. “Don’t you get it? She’s not only grieving them, but you! She’s loved you for years. She planned on spending her life with.”

His next shove was harder, and I fell back on the gravel walkway. Sharp stones pierced the skin on my hand. Inside, my heart cracked. I couldn’t say the words that beat with every breath. I knew she needed me. Dammit. But she needed the me from last week before this all happened. Before the accident. But that Seth, that boyfriend was gone, vaporized in one careless night. With her, I couldn’t lie. She’d know. And she’d keep asking and asking and asking until I was forced to tell the truth, or we’d slowly drift apart. Either way she’d be hurt worse than right now. Better to make a clean break than draw it out.

Disappointment shone in Noah’s eyes. Like he was here on her behalf to find the truth, so he could make sense of his sister’s grief. But he wouldn’t find answers with me. I wasn’t her magical cure. I never would be. I was poison.

His face turned grim, set in stone, a mask replacing the hurt and the hope. His words spit out. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is but you can’t just leave it like this. You have to talk to her.”

He reacted to my stubborn stance, because in three seconds he closed the gap between us and yanked me to my feet. I waited for the blow, hoping for it. Any pain would be a distraction and just punishment.

“I just dropped her off at the bluff. I’m going to let her have some space and then bring her some hot chocolate. In about thirty minutes, you will call my cell and ask for Haley to stop by. I don’t care if you have to lie out your ass but if you can’t be there for her, you need to break it off with her.”

I nodded. I didn’t want to see her, but I would.

“You have to decide. You can’t leave her hanging like this.”

“I understand.”

He loosened his grip and stepped away, his face twisted in confusion. “I thought you loved her.”

“Life happens.” I left him no argument.

“Thirty minutes, Seth.”

I saluted and got back to work even though he wanted answers.

My legs dangled over the edge of Raker’s bluff. The dull gray cloudless sky reflected the way I felt inside. A slight breeze chilled me, so I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. How had everything gone so wrong? I couldn’t even begin to figure that out.

My mouth was dry, and I wished I’d brought water. I needed to talk to Brin and Kama but their names stuck in my throat. I would never get an answer. And that tore at my insides. I dropped my forehead to my knees and stayed that way, rocking back and forth. The words and emotions bumbled about in my chest but all I could see was Kama’s curly hair creating a halo around her face. Brin’s knowing smile. I knew everything about her, and she knew everything about me. It was so rare to have that kind of friend and I wasn’t sure I’d ever find it again. How could I be so selfish?

I lifted my head and gazed across the expanse of the ocean. “I’m sorry.” I croaked. Those were the only words I managed. Time passed and my butt numbed from sitting on the ground. I shivered. Without the sun, time never began, never ended.

Wheels crunched on the gravel. I glanced back. Noah. Out of everyone, I was glad to see him, because he understood.

He laid a blanket over my shoulder, and this simple act flooded my eyes with tears. Then he handed me a thermos of hot chocolate.

“From Mom,” he said.

He climbed over the guardrail and sat next to me, his arm wrapped around my shoulder. I dropped my head against him and closed my eyes. He stayed quiet. No words of comfort or distraction. I’d never been so appreciative of my brother.

Finally he spoke, his words soft, like a soothing gel on a gash. “You don’t have to say goodbye yet. Take your time and say it when you’re ready. Don’t force it.”

I thought about the last few years. He attended a community college, stuck at home with his parents and younger sister. I didn’t remember doing anything to support him. I sipped the hot cocoa. The liquid left a burning trail through my chest. I wanted to stay sheltered here forever.

“Does it ever go away?” I asked. “The pain. The memories.”

“Haley,” his voice cracked, “I wish I had an answer for you. I promise to be there for you as long as it takes. I’ll be your friend.”

It was my turn to be honest. Thoughts had been running through my head since I left the hospital. I hadn’t talked to my parents or the grief counselor because they’d try and talk me out of it. Or assign me to another year of counseling. I’d heard enough of the stages of grief. I needed time away.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t want it to go away.” His eyebrows rose and that was the only indication he’d heard me. “I don’t want to forget the pain. I want to feel it every day of my life.” I pounded my chest and the words ripped from my throat. “They have no bright future because of me. I stole that from them. And if the pain goes away, then I might forget. And that can never happen.”