The Summer of Me & You (2 page)

I wasn't even here for the sex, I was here for the drugs. But I had to let her screw me or else I couldn't get the drugs.

And the night I decided to take back control of my life changed everything. The crazy bitch thought I was asleep or passed out and she was screwing another guy in front of me. I found my way up off the floor and I bolted. But she chased after me, trying to hold me hostage.

What in the hell had I gotten myself into?

I busted that guy she was fucking in the mouth and pushed her across the room. She landed on the glass coffee table, breaking it. And then there was blood everywhere and the metal music was crashing and my head spun. I tried to think but couldn't. She pulled glass out of her leg. I just needed to get out of there. On the way out I slashed their tires to keep them from following me.

Anger. Nothing but anger. Behind the wheel of my car, all I thought about was crashing into something. Anything. I imagined what it would feel like, meeting the end and dying. I was out of control again. And there was nothing to make it stop. I just wanted it to fucking stop! It was ruining my life. It was like I was possessed. There was a demon in me and I wanted to cut him out. I accelerated faster and faster. I closed my eyes, and spun the car around. I took my hand off the wheel. For a second it was like I was flying. I was in control. The car sailed before crashing. I felt the impact shooting through me, felt like my bones were breaking, then nothing. I was out.

I woke up in the hospital. My leg and arm both in a cast. My body ached all over. I was bruised. My chest hurt. Everything hurt.

“You're not going to be able to walk for a while, honey,” my mom said, hovering over me when I awoke.

I pulled a derisive laugh through my lungs, although it was hard to be sarcastic when I felt like I was in hell. The chuckles were clipped short. But I made my point.

“I can't believe I survived at all.”

My mom's eyes bulged. “This isn't just about you! You could've killed someone, Kaleb! You had heavy drugs in your system. Your life would've been over.”

“Maybe I want my fucking life to be over,” I said in a calm demeanor because I had to.

“You would've been thrown in prison and the bars slammed shut. It's called manslaughter.”

“That was extreme,” Rebekah said, smiling.

My mother spun around on her. “Get out of here!” She pointed to the door. I don't need you or your metal head boyfriend encouraging Kaleb's reckless behavior. If you were my kid you wouldn't be tattooed or pierced. You look like an idiot. Your life has no direction.”

“Whatever,” Rebekah said. “No one made him inject meth. You can't turn him into bubble boy,
mom
.” She sauntered out of the room.

Rebekah was the first girl to ruin me. That drug bitch was the second.

“You're a good kid, Kaleb. I need to know how you ended up like this,” she had tears in her eyes. “Did you crash your car because of that girl?”

I wanted to laugh again, but couldn't. But I managed to give a sardonic smile. “Which one?”

“You can't take drugs or crash your car because some girl doesn't like you, Kaleb.”

I had the urge to bolt forward or throw something across the room, but I couldn't even raise my voice. All I could do was shake my head. “You think that's why I did this? Rejection? This isn't about Kayleigh, mom. She doesn't even know how I feel and you don't either, because if you did then you'd know that I'm fucked up and something is terribly wrong with me,” I cried. “It's like a monster takes over. I never wanted the drugs. It just happened. I thought it would make the crazy go away.”

My mom cried, too. She leaned down, kissing my forehead. “I know, baby. I know. I'm going to get you some help. And I'm going to talk to Stephen about Rebekah moving out. She's twenty-one and doesn't need to be at the house, upsetting and influencing you.”

I laughed again. “I hope they tested my blood for aids, too when they found the drugs in my system. I messed up. I need an HIV and a STD test, mom.”

“Kaleb,” my mom cried, “this isn't like you. I don't understand.”

“Me either,” I said.

“What happened to that nice girl, Kayleigh. You need someone like her in your life. Not people like Rebekah's friends.”

“Kayleigh's too good for me, mom. I can't love a girl like her, because of the monster inside of me. It just wouldn't be fair to her. She's beautiful and deserves so much more. I would just ruin her life.”

“You're going to get better, Kaleb. I have you set up with a doctor to get you evaluated.”

I knew it. There was no denying it. “I have a mental illness, don't I?”

“Yeah, kid, I think you do. It would explain a lot of things.”

“Like why I bash the hell out of everything and get angry for no reason. That has to stop, mom or I'm never going to be normal or have a girlfriend. No one will ever love me.”

Kayleigh never spoke to me again until I was lying on the train tracks praying for a train to hurry the fuck up and run me over. I was beginning to think she'd forgotten that I existed.

I'd always silently loved Kayleigh, ever since first grade when Mrs. Walker was mad at me for coloring every picture blue—she ripped up my picture and took away my crayons. It'd made me cry, but Kayleigh, I remembered what she did. She stole everyone's blue crayons, put them in a box and handed them to me at recess. Because our school was small, Mrs. Walker taught the K-First grade class—there wasn't enough students for a single kindergarten class, so the school combined the classes. I was six months older than Kayleigh and because of her November birthday, she had started school a year late, which put me a grade ahead of her.

“If you like blue, color everything blue. You don't have to listen to her. Your picture was pretty anyway.”

I'd wanted to be close to Kayleigh ever since. But we were always separated, whether it was because she was a grade ahead of me in elementary school or because she went to a different middle school. And by the time high school had arrived, I'd been labeled as the guy to avoid. I had a bad rep. Partly because I wanted to. I felt safer that way.

I didn't see her there at first—didn't know anyone was watching me. It wasn't until she spoke I realized someone was there.

“What are you doing?”

I raised up just enough to see her standing there. She was wearing her Buddy Holly glasses. Kayleigh was a complete nerd.

“What does it look like I'm doing?”

She didn't skip a beat. “Being ignorant.”

“Well, I obviously fascinate you or you wouldn't be so intent on watching me.”

She didn't say anything.

“Did you follow me here? You had to. No one knew I was coming here. Guess I'll have to find a new place now”

“I didn't have to follow you,” she said. “I knew where to find you.”

“Yeah, well—the last time you were here, you ended up running off and never speaking to me again. Maybe we should just keep it that way. I don't want a repeat.”

“I'm here because I want to talk to you.”

“What could you possibly have to say to me after almost two years?”

“A lot?”

“I'm not up for listening.”

“Are you going to be mad at me forever because of that one day?”

“You stopped talking to me,” I reminded her. “That one day lasted forever.”

She said something that day that'd haunted me ever since.

“You know—if you lay there like that and a train does kill you, you're never going to get what you really want. What you've been counting on.”

“Oh yeah, and what's that? Enlighten me.”

“To see yourself fail. It's what you expect. But dying isn't failing—it's forfeiting. You're gonna give up that fast, while it's still so early in the game?”

“Whatever. You can't show up here out of the blue and pretend like you know me.” I didn't let her know how she'd affected me. “Where did you read that anyway? In some book?”

She didn't have a comeback that time, so I tried to prompt her. “You don't know me.”

“Never said I wanted to.”

If only she knew how much I'd suffered after the day she quit talking to me. But she probably wouldn't even care. I mean, how much could she possibly care? I hadn't been the same since. I'd done crazy things because of her. Wrecked my car, temporarily done drugs—it was like I was losing my mind. And she shows up here like this, like nothing happened, a few weeks before my graduation.

I was in a bad fucking mood.

“Go away, Kayleigh.” On the inside I boiled. No one was supposed to see me like this. Especially not her.

I heard the train coming. If she didn't leave, I was going to do something stupid again. She just stood there, asking for it.

I couldn't control the impulse. I just lay there as the train inched closer and closer. Kayleigh must've been really tripping balls watching me and how fearless I was. But right before the train plowed into me, her small hands jerked me up and away and we went tumbling backward. She'd seen the side of me I never wanted her to see. I hovered over her, nearly breathless. She trembled, her knees shaking, her heartbeat racing. For a minute, I thought I'd get to see her cry.

“Wow,” I said. “That was thrilling. Bet I scared the shit out of you.”

She just pushed me off her. “You're an asshole.” She stood up, dusted herself, and left.

I'd seen her in the hallways at school, but never face to face like I had that day at the train tracks. I ended up avoiding her for the rest of the school year. Until graduation night. Kayleigh was still a junior. I was a senior. What was she doing at my graduation?

She approached me in the hallway just moments before I needed to line up to walk across stage to receive that paper diploma. Something I'd slaved for.

“Why are you here, Kayleigh?”

“I'm here to tell you how I really feel and why I disappeared that day.”

I didn't want to hear it. Deep down, I already knew why. But it was too late for that. I had problems. I was graduating, and soon I'd be leaving for college. Now wasn't the ideal time to strike up a summer romance, just to see what it'd be like to be with me.

“Look—if you're falling for the guy who you know is completely broken, then you have deeper issues to worry about other than the reason why he won't return your affections.”

I would've gladly been with her had this occurred two years ago and not today of all days.

One of the many things I really loved about Kayleigh was her retort. “No, actually I'm concerned with the fact that he's talking about himself in third person.”

“Point proven.”

“I want to know what's wrong with me? Why do you act this way towards me?”

I smirked. “Whats wrong with you?—Nothing. You just don't fascinate me, Kayleigh. Not even in the slightest.”

“That's such a mean thing to say.” A part of me wanted to hurt her in some way because I was so hurt.

“Of course it is. You have such a high ego. What did you expect? It's called honesty, by the way. One day you're going to wish people could be as honest as I am.”

“Does that policy work with yourself or only with other people? I'm thinking it's neither.”

I spun around sharply. “Rule one: You can't chase after the guy who's this blatantly fucked up then wonder what went wrong when he breaks your heart.”

That was Kayleigh's problem. She was too afraid. She didn't want a broken heart. She'd been guarding it. She'd kept it away from me. It was written all over her.

“You really think too far ahead. Who's to say that'd ever happen?”

Well, you must've thought it would. Why now? Why trust me now?
I thought to myself.
 

“Because. That's who I am and that's all I'd do.” Or, at least this is what Kayleigh thought about me.

Now she was smiling. “No, I mean—what in the world makes you think I would ever fall for you? I've just been trying to get your attention so I could return this.”

Was she trying to get to me?

She held out my class ring.

“Where did you get this?”

“The day at the train tracks. I was going to return it sooner, but—” she shrugged—“I didn't want to remind you. And I was afraid to approach you.”

“Why? You didn't think I could take it—rehashing that day over again in my head? I get it Kayleigh. You saved the guy who was trying to kill himself.”

Her brow knitted together. “For one, I wasn't here to reminisce. For two, I didn't know you were trying to do that. I really thought you were just being stupid. Now I see that you
are
stupid.” She reached for my hand, turned it over, and placed my class ring gently in my palm, running her fingers lightly over my scars. She took one last look at me, then swiveled around, walking away. I hated when she walked away.

But she pivoted to say one last thing. “Oh, and congratulations on acing all your classes.”

I yelled to her, “I cheated!”

I was a cheater, a heart-breaker, the guy she should avoid. I couldn't believe she'd made all of these assumptions about me. And because she had, I was going to play up to them. No point in trying to prove her wrong.