The Secret Journal of Brett Colton

by Kay Lynn Mangum

  I raised my eyebrows. “I wasn’t sure if you knew how to slow dance like this.”

  “I don’t. I’m sure you’ll be able to tell pretty quick.”

  I laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not expecting anything fancy. This easy side-to-side, shifting from one foot to the other thing we’ve got going works for me.” I had to choke back a scream when a second later, Jason dipped me low and brought me up smoothly again in front of him with a grin. “What—what was that for?” I gasped.

  Jason laughed. “Just because you weren’t expecting anything fancy doesn’t mean something fancy isn’t going to happen. I can be spontaneous and surprise you, you know!”

  “Well, I definitely know now!”

  Jason pulled me in closer to him and looked down at me with a satisfied, pleased-with-himself smile. I smiled back, and as I moved in closer, he rested his cheek against my head. We stayed liked that for the rest of the song. And for the next song. And the next. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t mind having several slow songs in a row played at a dance.

  ~

  When a fast song did present itself, Jason reluctantly let go of me and shook his braced leg for a second. “Is it okay with you if we skip this one? My leg’s screaming for a break.”

  The leg brace. And his knee! I couldn’t believe I could’ve been so self-absorbed that I’d forgotten. This was probably the longest he’d stood on his leg since the blowout. “Your leg! Of course—I’m sorry! We should’ve sat down a long time ago!”

  Jason sighed. “It’s only my leg that wants a break, believe me. I’m just glad that I don’t have to mess around with crutches anymore.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. Going to a dance with his crutches in tow would have been interesting—and not in a good way. “I’m glad you’re through with your crutches, too.”

  “Not half as glad as I am. A brace is better than crutches any day.”

  While Jason carefully lowered himself into a chair, I craned my neck to see if I could locate where dance pictures were being taken. “This might be a good time to get our dance pictures out of the way. I’ll go see how long the line is while you rest your leg, okay?” I moved along behind the chairs to one of the ballroom exits and glimpsed a Dance Pictures This Way sign pointing down a narrow hall. The line wasn’t too horrific, and since the picture-taking area was located by the restrooms, I took advantage of the vanity opportunity before me to see if my waterproof mascara was doing its job and also to see how my fancy hairdo was holding up.

  The restroom was as incredible as the rest of the hotel. The room I’d entered had couches and fancy golden dressing tables with huge, gold framed mirrors above them. Plush red carpeting shushed my footsteps as I moved toward one wall that was a solid mirror from top to bottom and side to side. The room was an unbelievably fabulous place—fit for royalty.

  The door to the sinks and toilets opened, and the three who had been talking together immediately fell silent when I locked eyes with all three of them through the mirror’s reflection.

  Brad and Jeff’s dates. And Angela. I decided to be brave and turned to face them with a smile. “Hello.”

  Angela recovered first and put a big, fake smile on her face before walking slowly over while Brad and Jeff’s dates followed along behind. “Hello, Kathy. Having fun with Jason?”

  “Yes, I am. Are you having a good time with Rob?”

  Angela’s big, fake smile got even bigger as she gushed, “I’m having an incredible time—it’s amazing what a difference it is to date a senior instead of a sophomore. I was majorly wasting my time before.”

  I folded my arms. “Really? Well, I guess I’ll find out for myself when Jason’s a senior.” Brad and Jeff’s dates erupted in surprised laughter, and while Angela whirled around to glare at them, I figured now was a great time to make my getaway.

  “See you later.” I pushed open the main door and walked out, but not before I heard Angela angrily and loudly whisper, “I can’t believe you guys laughed! As if there’s any chance Jason will be with her a month from now, much less two years! . . .” The bathroom door thankfully finished closing on those delightful last words from Angela. I didn’t want to let her ruin tonight for me, but I needed a few minutes to walk off the feeling I’d just been slapped before I could face Jason with a smile again. Unfortunately, I was able to move only a few steps down the hall before I heard him calling my name.

  “Kathy!” Jason was standing at the end of the line for the dance pictures, waving me over. “You were gone so long I thought maybe you got lost. Everything okay?”

  I glanced briefly at him before looking down to smooth my dress. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. In one sense of the word only, of course,” Jason tried to tease.

  “Mmmm.” Jason wouldn’t stop scrutinizing me as if I were under a microscope while we stepped up to the end of the picture-taking line. Before I could say anything else, I could tell something had caught his attention over my shoulder. Turning, I saw Angela and Brad and Jeff’s dates exit the fancy bathroom and move down the hall away from us.

  “What happened?” Jason demanded.

  I shrugged. “Nothing. She was just being Angela.”

  “That can’t be good.”

  “It wasn’t,” I agreed as flippantly as possible.

  Jason elbowed me in the ribs. “Forget about her. She’s just jealous.”

  I could feel my jaw drop. “Of me?”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “Yes, you. Just try not to let her get to you, okay?” Jason smiled and squeezed my hand as we moved to take our turn in front of the camera. The pose was every bit as stiff as my dad had warned us it would be. Afterwards, we slow danced on the ballroom floor until I could almost believe nothing mattered or existed but that night and the two of us.

  ~

  The last song of the night was ending when Jason moved his mouth near my ear and whispered, “You ready to blow this hot dog stand?”

  I laughed and nodded while Jason led me off the dance floor and helped me on with Sam’s jacket. “Handsome and romantic. Lucky me!” We snuggled together in the backseat of the limo and rode in silence until curiosity took over. “So—where are you taking me now?”

  Jason tapped at the window by him with the back of his hand. “I thought you might like to drive around the city. You know, look at all the Christmas lights.”

  I smiled and peered out Jason’s window. “Sounds nice, but tell the driver to stop at this next corner for a second.”

  Jason turned to look out the window himself. “At that fast food place?”

  “Exactly.”

  Jason grinned. “Was my stomach growling that loudly?”

  “I don’t know whose was louder—yours or mine.”

  Jason laughed but didn’t protest, and once we were inside, he happily ordered disgustingly huge hamburgers, fries, and drinks for both of us. “It’s going to be a few minutes—let’s sit.” Jason moved to sit at a table near the food-ordering line, but I’d spotted a picture-taking booth, which had me pulling on Jason to follow me. I dug my hand into one of the jacket’s pockets for the dollars Sam had sneaked inside and then quickly fed the money into the booth. I slipped behind the curtain and sat on the little stool inside before peeking out to find Jason watching me.

  “Well, aren’t you coming in?”

  Jason grinned, and scrunched together on the tiny seat inside, we took picture after picture—getting progressively sillier and sillier until all of Sam’s money was gone.

  “Number seventy-three? Number seventy-three? Last call, number seventy-three!” We’d both been laughing so hard looking at the photos that I’d forgotten we’d ordered anything at all.

  “That’s us—be right back!”

  I gathered up the photos and carefully put them in Sam’s jacket pocket while Jason picked up our order. After we climbed back into the limo, we happily gorged ourselves on the food and oohed and ahhed over the lights we could see as we were cha
uffeured through the city.

  “I can’t believe tonight is almost over.” Jason fumbled with the radio controls while I held his hand and leaned against his shoulder, mumbling an “mm hmm” in agreement, until Paul McCartney’s voice racing by made me jump.

  “Wait—turn it back—”

  Jason jumped himself before flipping the dial back to Paul McCartney. “Sorry—I forgot. You like the Beatles, don’t you?”

  I smiled and leaned back into the car seat. “This song’s from the record album I have.”

  “The one you told me about? The one that was your brother’s?”

  I nodded and looked back out the window again. “Yeah—the U.S. release of the Rubber Soul album. I don’t think you can buy anything but the U.K. version on CD now.”

  Jason leaned back against the seat and put his arm around my shoulders and listened along with me. The limo had wound its way to the top of the hill where the capitol building overlooked the city. The view was absolutely incredible. We both stared in silence at the lights glittering below us and all the stars winking above us.

  “In case I forgot to tell you, I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you.” Jason reached out to smooth a strand of hair back behind my ear, and as his hand slowly moved to my neck, his eyes lowered to my lips. My heart raced as he leaned his face towards mine and softly kissed me. Before he could pull away, I slipped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. My heart pounded faster as Jason pulled me closer to him while we kissed.

  ~

  September 27

  Dear Kitty,

  I wish I could see Kelly one more time. I haven’t seen him since the day he was here with the football team. I can’t tell you how much I miss him. I wish I’d never said all of those crazy, mean things to him. Kelly’s been a brother to me—he’s helped to make me who I am. He has no idea how much he’s done for me. The hope he’s given me with his belief in God is only one of a billion things he’s given me. Best of all was his true friendship. I wish I could talk to Kelly, but I’m so weak and tired all the time—Mom won’t let anyone who’s not family come in to see me. If he has tried to come by, no one’s clueing me in. I wish I could walk over to his house and tell him I’m sorry and I love him. And thank him for being the best friend I could ever have. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends.

  Even though it’s hard for me to talk very long to anyone, you seem to understand. You lie by me in bed with Tiny and listen to music with me a lot. I think we’ve nearly worn out that Beatles album. And I’ve told you I love you a thousand times. Today you put your little hands on my face and whispered back, “Love Bet—Love Bet.” I’ll hold onto that forever, Kitty.

  I’ve taken a lot of things for granted. I never realized how lucky I was before just to be able to run. It’s hard for me now to just think about doing a lot of things without getting tired.

  They say that life’s greatest hell is wondering what might have been and regretting not seizing onto every opportunity that comes your way. If I can leave you only one piece of advice, it would be to do just that with your life—seize every opportunity that comes. Not just big ones, like trying out for the lead in the school play or becoming a doctor someday, but the “little” ones, too, like telling someone “I love you,” and “thanks for being my friend.” Most of the time, those turn out to be the biggest moments and opportunities in your life. I don’t want you to have to live with regrets. Believe me, nothing is worse than having to live with regret.

  When I first accepted I was sick, I knew I’d reached a turning point, because I knew my life would never be the same again. I wasn’t able to choose to have leukemia any more than I was allowed to prepare for it. I knew I could either give up or else I could try to make sense of it and make the most of the time I had left. You were the one who pointed me in the right direction, who made me want to change my mind and choose to make the most of the time I had left. I’m grateful that at least I’d been given some time. People in fatal car accidents aren’t given any warning at

  all. At least I’ve been warned. I’ve been given the chance to say

  good-bye . . .

  CHAPTER FORTY

  When I finally woke up on Saturday, the house was quiet. I lay in bed, happily reliving the highlights of Friday night in my mind before reaching for Brett’s journal. I was nearing the end, and while part of me wanted to finish it, another part didn’t want to turn the last page. So I carefully set Brett’s journal back in my top dresser drawer, and finding the house to be empty with no one around to ask me about the big dance, I decided to take Sam’s jacket back to her house. She, of course, would ask for details, which would give me the wonderful opportunity of reliving every minute detail aloud.

  After throwing myself together, I reached for the jacket and checked the pockets before smiling as my fingers closed around all of the strips of black-and-white photos. I giggled looking at the silly ones and blushed while I looked at the ones of Jason holding me on his lap. They weren’t silly at all. I carefully put the photos inside the front cover of Brett’s journal, reached into the other jacket pocket—and pulled out Jason’s tuxedo tie.

  I grinned as I examined the tie in my hand. I’d forgotten Jason had unstrangled himself from it the second the dance was over. I’d played with the tie in the limo and stuffed it into my jacket pocket when we pulled up to the fast food restaurant, and then I’d forgotten to remember to give it back when Jason kissed me one last time—a few “last times,” actually—before saying good night on my doorstep. My grin deepened as I relived that moment again. Tuxedo ties had been the last thing on my mind. “Lucky, lucky accident,” I said out loud to nobody but myself. And the tie. “Time to return you to Jason.” With my excuse in place, I happily jogged out of my bedroom to the kitchen for the car keys. And after refixing my hair and changing into a nicer pair of jeans, I jumped into the cruddy car and headed for Jason’s house.

  ~

  I’d been singing along with the radio the whole way to Jason’s until blaring sirens had me not only reaching quickly to turn down the volume but pulling over to let a police car with lights flashing rush by as well. Good grief! My heart raced as the police car zoomed down the road. It wasn’t until I signaled to get back onto the road that I realized the sirens—lots of sirens—were getting louder and louder the closer I got to Jason’s street.

  When I finally rounded the last bend that caused Jason’s house to come into view, I caught back a hard gasp. My foot responded at the same time, grinding my brakes to a halt. My heart pounded and my hands shook as I clutched the steering wheel. I froze, sitting in the cruddy car in the middle of the road with my foot glued to the brake. But as my body reacted in its way, my mind and my wide eyes strangely, calmly, unbelievingly—almost as if both were trying to pretend it was a movie screen in front of me instead of real life—numbly took in the scene before me.

  There was an ambulance—a big white one with red lights flashing—directly in front of Jason’s home. And a car—a dark blue car on the other side of the road—with a mangled front bumper. And a bike—a small, pink bike—just as mangled—lying in the middle of the road—

  I couldn’t look anymore at that bike, because I didn’t want to know—I didn’t want to know for sure whether or not it was Emily’s, even though I knew—I knew.

  I jerked my eyes away from the bike and looked towards the other side of the road. There was a boy—a boy probably not much older than me—sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. A police officer was crouched by him with a clipboard, talking to him with a concerned but focused and determined look on his face.

  There was a small group of people—EMTs, mostly—and Jason’s parents, too—all kneeling on the road behind the ambulance, looking down at something. At someone. Jason’s mother was crying, and Jason’s father had his arms around her, holding her back while the EMTs continued to concentrate with smooth, orchestrated, practiced movements on the on
e in the middle of their circle. Jason’s parents drew away as the EMTs lifted the stretcher before rolling it into the ambulance, so for a brief moment, I was able to catch a glimpse of a small, still figure with dark curls.

  “Emily—” My throat closed tightly as I continued to stare at the unbelievable scene before me. The ambulance—the car—the bike—and Emily, lying so still. So horribly still.

  A car honking behind me jerked me back to myself. My body didn’t seem to belong to me as I turned the car away from the driveway I was blocking. I pulled over to the side of the road before shakily turning off the engine. And with the car now closer to Jason’s home, I could see something I’d missed before.

  Jason—sitting on the grass by the sidewalk right by the ambulance, with his good left knee drawn up tight to his chest, his arms clutched around it, and his head buried against it. And he was rocking slowly back and forth.

  I couldn’t stay where I was anymore—not after seeing Jason like that on top of the other unreal scenes around me. I was shaking all over, but somehow I forced myself out of the car. No one tried to stop me as I slowly walked towards Jason.

  He didn’t look up when I finally stood beside him. I doubt he even knew I was there, so I carefully, slowly sat down close to him while he continued to rock back and forth. I was afraid to touch him as I softly said his name.

  “Jason?”

  The rocking stopped, and after a moment, he lifted his red-eyed, tear-stained face to me. He’d been crying. Crying hard. And there was blood on his shirt.