by RH Tucker
“It was the beginning of our sophomore year. We’d just turned sixteen …” I take a deep breath. This is the first time I’ve told anyone this much detail. Uncomfortable feelings of telling Sasha this mix with the emotional pull of the memories. “We were each other’s first. We knew we were going to be together forever. We were starting to plan out our lives.” An unbelieving laugh floats out. “How insane is that? Two sixteen-year-old high schoolers, planning the rest of our lives together. And then … she told me she was pregnant.”
She still hasn’t made a sound, but she pulls her hand away. Raising it to her mouth, her surprised eyes glisten.
“As scared and nervous as I was, I was also excited. We decided to wait to tell our parents. They’d always been so supportive of us, but this was life-changing. We weren’t sure what they’d say or how they’d react. I could tell as the days went by, she kept getting more nervous. More unsure of everything. So, I got my uncle to reserve a hotel room for me. I told him it was a late birthday present for Reese, and even though he seemed skeptical, he did it for me. She told her parents she was staying at a friend’s, so did I, and we were off. An hour away from home, our hotel overlooked the beach. I think, at least I’ve hoped, it was exactly what she needed.”
I feel bare. Bare to Sasha and bare to Reese. There’s no sense of relief as the words spill out. I continue to glance back and forth from the sand under my feet, then over the darkening ocean. Running my fingers over the sand again, I let it fall through my palm, before dusting it off, and fidget with my thumb.
“She was happy on our way back home, I know that. We were happy. I think … if I’m really honest with myself, I think it might’ve been the last time in my life I felt like everything was going to be okay. I wasn’t worried about school, or how her parents were going to react, or how mine were. I was just happy. There. With her.”
I let out a rough sigh, feeling my throat choke up. Sniffling, I blink away tears.
“There wasn’t any traffic on the highway that day. Traveling down the coast was gorgeous. Then a dog jumped out in front of me. A fucking dog. I swerved to miss it, and the car went sliding.”
Looking back over at Sasha, I remember the night her car swerved, and the sheer panic running through me, thinking the same thing was happening.
“It’s true what they say, at least, it was for me. Everything slowed down. A silence floated in the air, and then a humming. I gripped the steering wheel as tight as I could, praying we wouldn’t slide off of the side of the road. There was only a thin metal barrier, blocking any cars from falling off of the cliffside. The tail end of the car clipped it and sent us spinning in the opposite direction. A ditch lined the other side of the highway, trees scattered throughout. As soon as the tires went off the road, I don’t know what we hit, but the car was flipping.”
Another deep breath. Sasha’s still focused on me. I pick up a small pebble and throw it off of the cliff, hearing nothing but the waves break down below, and wipe my eyes again.
“I blacked out. They told me later I suffered a concussion from getting hit on the side of the head. When I came to, I could hear the sizzling and popping of the motor. We were upside down, and I tried to move my arm, but I couldn’t. Blood covered me. Undoing my seatbelt, I slammed down onto the roof, now under my knees, and when I tried to break my fall, my shoulder gave out. I knew something was broken. I still hurried next to Reese, hoping to release her, too, but …” I choke on the memories. “She was pinned in. Glass was everywhere, and we were pressed up against a huge tree that had burst the door frame inward. Metal from the door was jabbing into her ribs and hip. I—”
The emotions catch up to me, and my words cut off.
“Taylor—” She starts but I wave her off, putting my hand over hers.
“I kept yelling at her, choking on dirt and tears, feeling the cuts from glass dig into my legs. But she was leaving. She’d float in and out of consciousness, and all while urging her to stay awake I’d scream out for someone—anyone—to help. But there was no one. We were there, stuck, for hours. If they’d never told me we made it to the hospital later that night, I’d honestly believe we sat there for days. That’s how long it felt. The only thing I clearly remember from the accident, the only thing I know for sure, was when she left. She came to for just a moment, and through the pain and blood, she smiled at me. I thought she was going to get better. That we’d be able to somehow unpin her. But we didn’t. She smiled, touched my lips, and then her eyes closed again.
“Everything else is a blur until our parents found us at the hospital. I remember doctors asking me what happened, medics trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t do it. They had to drag me away from her side when they got to the site. And if all of that wasn’t bad enough, everyone’s reaction only made it worse.
“They weren’t mad, Sasha. They were freaking out, I remember Cynthia crying and my mom consoling her, but none of them were screaming at me. Asking me why, or telling me what a horrible person I am. Even when the doctors pulled Anthony and Cynthia to the side and told them she had been pregnant. I couldn’t hear them, but I knew he did because Cynthia’s head snapped right toward me. Her bloodshot eyes striking mine, and I knew that was it. I knew Anthony was going to have to hold her back from killing me. And then … she rushed to me and threw her arms around me. Nobody was mad at me, and that just made it worse.”
My fists clench, and I repeatedly punch the sand. “‘They were in love,’ they said. And we were, but they treated it like it was some random accident. My dad, being an attorney, even got the courts to go lenient on my driving record. Everyone was so understanding.”
“Because it wasn’t your fault, Taylor.”
Sasha’s words finally squeak out, but I’m quick to stop them. “No. No, it was my fault. I did this, Sasha. We didn’t have to sneak out of town, we could’ve just told our parents. We should’ve. And a piece of me wished they hated me. A piece of me still wishes that.”
“Taylor.”
“It’s true. I took away their baby. I killed her. She’s not here today because of me. And with everyone constantly telling me I wasn’t to blame, this enormous mound of guilt began to rise. With everyone telling me how sorry they were for me, but that it’ll be okay, I threw more of that guilt over me. Only our parents knew about the pregnancy after that, but that just compounded on top of everything.
“I finished the rest of sophomore and junior year doing homeschooling. I couldn’t go out, I couldn’t meet with friends. Everything and everyone I came into contact with reminded of her. Our lives had been intertwined for so long, that no matter what I did or where I went, she was there. Before senior year was going to start, I knew I couldn’t do it. To go back and see all of our friends. To be around everyone she should’ve been with. Everyone she should’ve been laughing with and getting ready to graduate with. That’s when my dad moved us out here into an apartment and commuted back and forth to work. They were adamant that I had to try and get my life back together, but they knew how hard that would’ve been in Santa Monica.
“It was difficult, to say the least. I kept to myself. Somehow, Micah squeezed into my life, probably because he was going through a breakup at the time. But … I didn’t think it’d be easy, but I wanted it to be. And then I quickly found out how hard it was going to be. The first time I kissed someone else was right before our homecoming dance. As soon as it happened, I turned to the side and threw up.”
I let out an unbelieving scoff at myself. “Yeah, I didn’t go to that dance. But I started working out more. Like, a lot more. I did it in the beginning because pushing myself in the gym helped me forget. So, I just pushed harder and harder, constantly wanting to forget. Until I got rhabdo.
“At first I thought I pulled a muscle or something. Going too hard on the weights. Until I passed out. All the while, I’d kept attempting to go out with girls. Just trying to push past the thoughts. And then, when I got injured, then that part got kicked into overdrive. That�
�s when I discovered I could hook up with someone as long as I kept all of my feelings in check. I didn’t have to worry about falling for someone and betraying Reese because I wasn’t going to let myself love anyone.
“It was like I worked out a deal with Reese from beyond, that said I can do what I want as long as I don’t love anyone else. And it worked for a while.” I scoff at myself again, letting out a chuckle. “Damn, I really do sound crazy, don’t I? I always thought I might be, but hearing myself say it out loud, now I know. The only time I slipped up was grad night.
“Me and Micah decided to get drunk, and even though looking back on it it was probably my subconscious egging me on, I just started blurting it all out to him. Even the pregnancy part. And he never brought it up. Sure, he’d recommend that I shouldn’t do this or that. Usually stuff I’d already heard from my therapist that first year after everything happened. But he’s always kept everything I told him a secret. Until you came along.”
Her blue eyes are glistening with unshed tears when she says, “Taylor, I’m sorry. I didn’t ask him to tell me that. And I’m sure he just wants you to be happy.”
“No, see, that’s the thing. I know that’s what he wants. And I was too stupid and stubborn to see it.”
The dusk falls over us, and the waves still break down below. Finally, I’m through it all. I was hoping I’d feel relieved. That I’d get it all off of my chest, and she’d be here, and we could move on. As if it were that easy. As if it’s a light switch I just turned on, and all of the nightmares in the dark vanish, leaving nothing but light and love.
But her next question reminds me that I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same.
“So, why now?” she asks. I look over at her, and see she’s not upset, or concerned. She’s only unsure. “Why tell me now, Taylor? What exactly are you hoping for?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I honestly don’t. I know I want you around, and that I like myself better when I’m with you. I needed you to know this. And, yeah, I probably should’ve been upfront at least a little, definitely more than I was, in the beginning. That’s on me, and I’m sorry. But I needed you to know that I do care for you, Sasha. But after that day … I’m not sure if I know how to love someone anymore. I don’t know if I can. When everything happened, I never thought I would love anyone again, much less want to love anyone again.”
“You …” She stares at me and my final revelation.
I nod. “I want to. Sasha, I want to love you, but I’m not sure if I know how to do that anymore. Reese didn’t leave me. We didn’t end on a breakup. And just that fact alone, it makes me doubt everything else I feel. And it makes me afraid, too. Because how am I supposed to love someone else, give someone else my all, when I know I’ll never be able to? Even if I wanted to, a piece of my heart died that day.”
Tears slip past her eyelids, and she brushes them away but doesn’t say a word. Pulling herself closer, she wraps her arms around me, and I do the same to her. We sit there in silence, listening to the ocean below, as the sky darkens. Finally, when the sun is completely gone, and more stars appear above the clouds, we get up and head back to my bike, still with no words exchanged.
As I drive her back to her apartment, I both want to know what’s going through her mind and I don’t. My words to her were true. I’m not sure if I know how to truly love her, but I don’t want to let her go either. As selfish as it sounds, I want her to stay with me, giving me time to figure out my own life and emotions and be there for me. Yet I know that’s not fair either.
As I stop outside of her apartment, she slides off the back and hands me her helmet. “Thank you,” I tell her, taking off mine. “Thank you for hearing me out.”
Reaching over, she gives my hand a squeeze. “I am sorry for what happened. No one, no matter what age, should have to go through something like that. And thank you for trusting in me enough to tell me what happened.”
I give a slight nod. “So, what happens next?”
Her eyes get large for a moment before she looks away, shaking her head. “I have no idea.”
Letting out a deep sigh, she presses both of her hands against my chest, leaning closer. A small sliver of hope rises, hoping she kisses me and tells me everything is going to be okay.
“Taylor, I would never ask you to love me more than her. I would never ask that. And even though our relationship started on some silly deal, I want you to know it’s more than that to me, too. I am falling for you.”
Holding her face, I lean closer, and she presses her forehead to mine.
“But we can’t do this.” My eyes clench shut from her words. “And I’m saying we, because it’s not you or me, it’s us. I’d never ask you to love me more than her, but I still need your love. It doesn’t have to be with your everything, because now that I know what I do, I don’t know if you can do that. And I’m fine with that knowledge. But I think it’s only fair that I have what you can give me. Piece by piece if need be, but I deserve that. Anyone you love does, too. But right now? Taylor, you have to figure this out.”
Keeping my eyes closed, I nod against her. When I open them back up, she’s there, tears running down both cheeks. As I’m swiping them away with my thumb, she covers her hand over mine.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
In the back of my mind, I think I knew this would happen. So I start to lock everything away again. “Don’t be. I stopped believing in happily ever after a long time ago.”
“Don’t say that.” She presses her hand to my lips. “Please don’t say that. I know—”
“It’s fine, Sasha,” I cut her off, not able to stay around her much longer unless I want to crumble and fall apart. “Sometimes happily ever after isn’t what you thought it’d be, right? I mean, that’s what my therapist would tell me.”
“Don’t put up your walls again. Please.”
“I should go.” I kick up the kickstand and raise the helmet over my head.
Before I can slide it on, she stops me, then presses her lips against mine. “I’m here, okay?” she says quietly. “I’m still here, Taylor. Don’t shut me out. Just give us time.”
“Yeah.” I nod, swallowing the bitter pill of pity and sorrow and doubt. Moving her back slowly, I motion toward her door. “You should go inside. It’s getting cold.”
She nods, staring back at me with the same failing expression I have on. Turning around, she heads to her door. With my helmet on, I watch her through the dark visor. She turns back around and leans in the doorway, the lighting from behind her casting a shadow over her features. She waves at me, and because of the dark shadow, I don’t know if she’s smiling or crying. Maybe it’s better not to know.
Chapter 27
Sasha
Manny lets out an excited yelp, slamming down the shot glass on the bar. Rita laughs, and Ian chuckles along, while Adam breaks out into hysterics, and the new guy, Devin, chokes on the fireball shot of whiskey. It’s a time-honored tradition, even if the restaurant hasn’t been open very long. Once a new hire completes his first dinner rush at the restaurant, we all go out, and the new person has to take three shots. All of fireball whiskey. It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t even twenty-one when I took mine, or that Devin complained all the way here that he hates liquor and only drinks Bud Light. It’s tradition, and Adam will not break from tradition.
“That was only your first one!” Manny yells, still laughing.
“My throat.” Devin wrings his hand around his neck, cringing. “Oh, that’s disgusting.”
“Two more!” Rita calls out.
We’re at a gastropub down the street, where Adam is friends with the owner. They’re open an hour later than we are, and since it’s late, there aren’t many people left.
“If I’d known this was a tradition, I would have requested to only work lunch rushes forever,” Devin complains.
I nudge him. “Oh, stop being a baby.”
“Don’t tell me you like this crap.” He stares back down
at the other two shot glasses, still lined up in front of him with the amber liquid.
“I’m a line cook.” I punch his shoulder. “Maybe since you’re just a glorified dishwasher, you can’t handle it?”
I raise an eyebrow, and my challenging stare gives him pause. He stares at me, then back down at his drinks, building up his confidence to not back down. I wait, watching as he reaches the second shot glass, raising it to his eye level. A hush falls over us all. He bites his lip nervously. Downing the second shot, he lets out a disgusted groan after he swallows.
“Ugh! So this is why you guys told me to take an Uber to work. I hate you all.”
Everyone breaks out in laughter again, and I take a drink of my water.
“Taylor!”
The name being shouted stops me in my tracks, and my head snaps to the side. A group of guys all cheer for their friend, Taylor, and I see a guy about my height, skinny, with freckles and orangish-red hair waving at them, pulling up a chair. Turning back around, I stare down at my water, my light-hearted mood entirely gone.
Since he confided in me the story that altered his entire life, it put so many of the missing puzzle pieces in place. Unfortunately, it also left a giant, gaping hole in the middle of our relationship.
I’ve wanted to reach out and check up on him. I sent him a text message a couple of days after, but he never replied. His last words to me left me worried, and I haven’t been able to shake them—he doesn’t believe in happy endings anymore. Then, he basically pushed me off to the side. What I told him was the truth, he does need to figure this out. Otherwise, it’ll just eat at him for the rest of his life. But that didn’t mean I want to be pushed away.
And since then, my own doubts have started to creep in. Should I have not said that? Maybe I should’ve stayed with him longer, stayed around him more and kept in contact more, helping him along. But would that help? Would I be a pillar of strength for him or would I just be a crutch he’s leaning on? I have no idea what the right thing to do is, and all I know is that as much as I want him to figure everything out, I don’t want to lose him. But he may already be lost to me.
