by Lisa De Jong
“Because I’ve been there.”
“I hope you’re not feeling that way right now … or ever again.” His eyes are pained, like I’ve rejected him in some way. Like I said he wasn’t enough.
I lean my head against his shoulder, feeling the smooth leather against my cheek once again. “You make me feel like I have everything.”
“You don’t know how fucking happy that makes me,” he whispers, kissing my temple. “What else are you afraid of?”
“Heights. I remember one time my parents took me to the mountains, and there was a point when we stood at the edge looking down with nothing as a barrier. It was as if I didn’t have any control. All of a sudden my feet and legs didn’t feel like steady platforms. I left to go sit in the car and stayed there for the rest of our ride through Rocky Mountain National Park.”
Saying it now makes me feel silly. Deep down I know nothing is going to happen to me unless someone pushes me, but it doesn’t take my fear away.
“So what’s the last thing?”
Honesty is an open window to the soul … this admission might be me opening that window just a little too far. I open my mouth, but before I get a chance to speak, the waitress sets our plates down on the table. This was definitely not the type of conversation we should be having here, because the heaping piles of fries and onion rings no longer look that good to me. The hollow, hungry feeling in my stomach has been filled with uneasiness.
“Can I get you two anything else?”
Sam looks at me, but all I can do is shake my head and flash a fake smile.
“I think we’re good,” Sam replies, gently squeezing my leg.
“Okay, I’ll check back with you in a few minutes.” I watch her walk away, almost wishing she’d come back and take all this food with her, or better yet, just stand at the end of our table so this whole conversation didn’t have to continue.
“Are you going to eat?” Sam asks, pulling my attention back.
“Umm, yeah. I was just thinking. Sorry.”
His finger brushes against the side of my jaw. It’s light and calming. “Eat. We can continue this later. I won’t forget.”
I hope he does, because I don’t think I can lie to him, yet I don’t want to tell him the truth. I haven’t told him my biggest fear. The one that consumes me most of my days.
Our table is quiet as I force a piping hot fry into my mouth. At first, my body wants to reject it, but the salty goodness overwhelms me, making me crave more. My stomach begins to warm up to the notion of being full, so I take my first bite of my cheeseburger, immediately noticing the buttery flavor of the bun. It practically melts on my tongue.
“That good, huh?”
Grabbing a napkin, I wipe the corners of my mouth before looking up at Sam. He’s got a little bit of ketchup at the corner of his lips, but I’m not going to say anything. “What?”
“You’re making these little moaning sounds after each bite. It’s cute.”
My eyes go wide. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” He laughs. “By the way, you missed some on your chin.”
Horrified, I quickly pick the napkin back up and dab my face. “Did I get it?”
“Here,” he says, wiping his thumb along the center of my chin. Then he does something I never expected, sucking the end of his thumb between his lips. It’s shocking but a little sexy.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“What? It tastes even better coming from your skin.”
Shaking my head, I pop another fry in my mouth, then chase it down with a long drink of ice water. “You make crazy look cute,” I finally say.
“As long as you find me cute, I don’t care how I got there.”
I’m about to respond, but I’m interrupted by a new voice. “Rachel.”
Looking to the end of the table, I see Beau in faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt, his hair mussed up but stylish all the same. He hasn’t changed one bit.
“Beau. Long time no see. How you been?”
He shrugs. “I’m adjusting. School’s different this year without you and…” He trails off.
I’ve been so caught up in trying to pull myself together that I never thought about what this is like for Beau. He probably knew me even better than Kate did, just from being around me so much. He definitely saw more of my relationship with Cory.
“I’m sorry. I never even thought about that.” I stop, taking a second to glance at Sam whose eyes are firmly fixed on Beau. “Do you want to sit?”
He watches Sam, who finally nods his approval. “Yeah, as long as I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Of course not. I actually wanted to ask you a couple questions anyway.”
He slides into the booth across from us, folding his hands on top of the table. “Shoot,” he says.
“I’m just going to come right out and ask this because there’s really no easy way.” I pause, looking over at Sam who’s finally giving me his full attention. “The last day of school … did you see us before we left for home? I still can’t remember anything past mid-morning.” Sam’s arm wraps around my shoulders, but I keep my eyes on Beau.
“I came home right as you were leaving to drive home. You’d just finished packing everything into the car.”
I instantly feel some hope. “Did anything seem off to you?”
He shakes his head. “No, Cory was helping you out with the last of your things. We made plans to meet up a couple times over the summer and said our goodbyes.”
“Did either of us mention a party?”
“I don’t think … wait, right before you left, Cory got a call. When he got off, he mentioned the lake, and you didn’t seem too enthused. I think you said something like, ‘We’ll talk about it when we get home.’”
The parties at the lake were nothing but tests on who can drink the most. It wasn’t a game I liked to play, but Cory didn’t agree. I always ended up watching him so he didn’t take it too far; he never knew when to stop.
“Do you remember who it was that called?” Maybe if he can give me that, I’ll be able to put together more of the pieces.
He scrubs his hands over his face. “I do, only because I thought it was strange that she called him instead of you.”
“Who?” I ask, my heart beating fast.
Sam pulls my hand in his, gently squeezing. “Do you really want to do this?” he asks quietly.
I look him straight in the eye. “I need to. Nothing’s ever going to be over until I remember everything that happened that night.”
Sam closes his eyes and nods.
“Who?” I ask Beau again.
“Madison.” I don’t know if I heard the word or read it off his lips, but it stuns me. She swore that she didn’t come home until the following day, so why would she have called Cory to tell him about a party? Had she tried to call me first? It’s times like these that make me wish I had my old phone with calls and text messages on it. Maybe there was something on there I could have used to help clarify all this.
“Are you sure?” I finally ask, swallowing down the quiver in my voice.
“I’m sure.”
I nod, feeling the world spin around me. Sometimes learning more just messes the whole situation to a greater degree. That’s how I feel right now. Nothing about that day or night makes sense, but I’m going to keep trying to figure it out until it does.
“How are you doing, Rachel?”
“It’s getting better.” I look at Sam and manage a sad smile. For his part, Sam is quiet. I don’t miss how uneasy he looks. Maybe it’s because he’s staring at Beau, the infamous towel boy.
“How are y’all doing?” the waitress asks as she reappears at our table.
“Good,” I answer, eyeing my mostly untouched plate.
“Are you going to need a couple boxes?”
“No, thank you,” Sam answers. “Just leave it here. We might eat a little more.”
“Okay. I’ll bring your check.”
&n
bsp; As soon as she disappears, Kate slides in next to Beau. “I have a fifteen-minute break. Let’s make it count.” Beau wraps his arm around her and kisses the center of her forehead like I’ve seen him do countless times before. They’re one of those couples you only have to be around for a few minutes to know they’re forever.
We spend Kate’s break telling stories about our freshman year of college. I never doubted Sam would get along with my new friends, but they mesh even better than I expected. Kate approves; I can tell by the way she smiles at the two of us.
At one point, when we’re all laughing, Sam gets a serious look on his face and leans across the table. Beau and Kate both look at me, wondering what the heck he’s doing, but Sam’s eyes are fixated on Beau.
He motions for Beau to lean in. He complies. “You’re a cool dude, but you need to keep your clothes on when you’re around my girl.”
“What?” Beau asks, his eyebrows pulling in.
“Towels are not clothes.”
Understanding washes over Beau’s features as Kate sits beside him, her hand covering her mouth. “I’ll remember that.”
Laughter echoes from our table again. It feels nice—being here with new and old friends.
“You guys should be proud of Rachel. I got her here on my motorcycle.”
“No way,” Kate says, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. “I thought you hated those things.”
I laugh. “I did until a few hours ago. Sam convinced me otherwise.”
“Can I see it?” Beau asks. When Kate shoots him an inquisitive look, he continues, “I’m thinking about buying one … when we’re done with college.”
“Let’s do it,” Sam says. “It’ll give the girls a few minutes to talk.” Sam winks at me as if he knows something I don’t and throws a couple twenty-dollar bills on the table. “I’m buying.”
Kate stands to let Beau out while Sam leans in to my ear. “I’ll wait for you outside. Take as long as you need.”
“Thank you,” I say, kissing his cheek.
“ARE YOU DOING OKAY?” Kate asks as soon as the guys are out of earshot.
I shake my head. “No. Beau just told me something, and I’m having trouble reconciling it in my head.”
“What did he say?”
“Do you remember me mentioning my best friend from high school, Madison?”
She nods.
“Well, Beau told me that she called Cory the day of the accident to invite us to the party I can’t remember. It doesn’t make sense because she told me she wasn’t in town that night.”
“Maybe he mixed her up with someone else. It was a hard night for everyone.”
At this point, I hope that’s what happened, but he seemed so sure of himself. There was no hesitation or confusion. I wish there had been because I’d be holding that doubt tightly in my hand. Every part of me wants to believe that he was mistaken.
“I don’t think so. I’m going to try to call her when I get home,” I say softly, ripping the edges from a napkin.
“Can I see that napkin for a minute?”
I lift a brow at her as I hand her the thin, white paper. There are at least ten other ones on this table so why does she want mine? I watch as she grabs the pen from the top of our bill and begins to scribble on the napkin.
“What are you writing?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
While I wait, I glance at the bill. I feel horrible for making Sam pay for something I barely touched. Looking at his plate, I notice he didn’t touch much of his either.
“Here,” Kate says, handing me a folded napkin. “But don’t read it until you get home.”
I roll the material between my fingers so tempted to defy her. “Why can’t I read it now?”
Her eyes lock onto mine in warning, like my mother’s would. “Because I said so. Trust me.”
I tuck it deep in the pocket of my jacket, but the thought of sneaking off to the bathroom to read it crosses my mind. I’m not good about surprises.
“Look, I have to get back to work before they start yelling at me. We’ll talk again soon, okay?”
I nod, standing to give her a hug before she gets too far away. “I miss you.”
“I’m only a phone call away,” she says, folding her arms tightly behind my back.
“I’ll try to remember that.”
“Take care, Rachel.” She lets go, taking a few steps back.
“You too.” I miss her as I watch her walk away. It sucks that we live a couple hours apart.
As I step outside, I notice how much cooler it’s gotten since we jumped on the bike this morning, and despite Sam’s forecast, the skies have clouded over. When the motorcycle comes into view, Sam’s leaning against it with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. His hair is sticking up in all directions, but it just makes him look even better than usual, and that’s hard to do.
“Ready?” I ask, stepping off the curb.
The corner of his mouth turns up, his eyes scanning the entire length of my body. “Did I tell you how fucking sexy you look in that coat and boots?”
“You may have mentioned it.”
His fingers loop into my belt loops, using the leverage to pull me forward until my body is flush against him. “In case I didn’t, I’m going to say it again. You’re so fucking sexy, Rachel, and I can’t believe that after all these years … all this time, you’re finally mine.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I step up on my tippy toes and kiss the cleft of his chin. “I’m the lucky one.”
He kisses me back, but on the lips. He tastes me slowly, like one might let a smooth piece of milk chocolate melt on their tongue. When he pulls away, I crave him. I want his skin back on mine.
“Since our relationship is new, I’m not going to argue with you about that, but it’s not always going to be this way.” He goes in for one more kiss, leaving me nearly breathless by the time he’s done. “We should probably get going,” he says, looking up to the sky. “It looks like the weather man may have lied.”
“Okay. Maybe we can go back to my house and watch a movie or something.”
His head tilts. I know what he’s thinking … my parents will have a heart attack if they see Sam Shea walk through my front door.
“Or your place,” I add, making that smile of his reappear.
“Now, that sounds like a plan.”
He slides the helmet off the handlebars and places it firmly on my head, making sure it’s fastened in place. “Ready?” he asks.
“I’m actually looking forward to it.”
“Why are we still standing here then? Climb on.”
With my arms tightly around him, we make our way out of town, taking the same route we used to get in. From there, we turn onto a winding country road that’s completely different. The path is lined with mature trees, which are just starting to change color with autumn moving in. Even under the cloudy sky, I have to admit it’s beautiful.
With the sound of the loud engine once again in the background, I think about what Beau said back at the diner. About Madison being the one who called about the party that day. Something about Madison hasn’t sat right with me since that day in the hospital. There’s something she’s not telling me.
Maybe she called but wasn’t able to make it back in time for the party. Maybe she’s protecting me by not telling me something she knows would break me. Whatever it is, I just want to know, to try to put the pieces together.
As we continue to make our way toward home, the sky becomes darker. It’s a different feeling—being out here in the dead of night. It’s harder to see where we’re going. My control starts to slip, and that’s when the old feelings come back. The hopeless sorrow I’ve been fighting. Visions of Cory’s smiling face flood my mind. It’s hard to imagine one event affecting a person this much, but it has. I freaking hate it.
Soon, I recognize some of the houses we pass … not too much farther to go, I tell myself. As we come around a big curve, panic fills my c
hest. There’s no reason, no thought behind it, but all the sudden it’s extremely hard to breathe. My hold on Sam is tight, yet it’s like I’m not holding on at all. My arms feel like rubber, and my jaw tingles. Then, as we round the last quarter of the curve, I hear them … the voices. Mine and Cory’s.
“What are you talking about, Rachel? I’m not the one who fucked up.” It’s Cory. He’s sitting in the passenger seat of my car.
“Me!” I scream. My fingers ache from how tightly I’m gripping the steering wheel. “I didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the one who fucked up. I know exactly what I saw!” I yell.
“Pull this car over right now! We’re going to find somewhere to talk until I get it through your fucking head … I didn’t fucking touch her.”
Anger. Just thinking about this is making my blood boil. I saw something that night. Something I wished I could un-see. What was it? God, I wish I could remember.
“So putting your fucking lips on her neck isn’t touching? What the fuck, Cory? I’m not an idiot!”
“So what now? Hmm? You going to make me suffer for a week or two while you work through the shit in your head? What if I don’t wait for you?”
I laugh, but sad tears run down my cheeks. It’s maniacal—like I’m going insane. “No, I’m going to take you home and spend the next weeks and months convincing myself you never existed, because right now, I wish you didn’t.”
“Damnit, Rachel!” His hand covers mine on the steering wheel. “Pull. This. Car. Over. Now!”
“No,” I say, the tears spilling over at a quicker rate.
Then it happens: his hand tightens over mine, and as I try to free myself, he pulls against the steering wheel. Looking up through the windshield, I start to panic. My car veers off the curve and down a deep embankment. It’s falling fast, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Shit! Shit!” Cory screams, but then there’s silence. Everything goes black.
My body trembles as I remember what it was like in those last seconds. How helpless I felt. It’s why I always feel like I’ve lost control. I knew what was coming the minute the car rolled into the grass, but there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.
I’m so lost that I don’t realize Sam’s pulled along the side of the road. I don’t realize my eyes are closed until I notice the overwhelming darkness. I feel dizzy, as though someone slapped me hard across the face, and I’m trying to regain my footing.
