The Guardian Trilogy: The Complete Collection - Guardian, Allegiant & Reborn

by Sara Mack

  “James fell asleep at the wheel,” she says softly, yet holds me tight. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

  That’s not true. There’s one thing I could have done. One thing I should have done.

  My mom allows me to cry against her. She doesn’t ask questions. She doesn’t press the therapy issue or talk about Shel’s upcoming stay. She just holds me and strokes my hair like I’m a little girl again.

  Once I calmed down and took two, maybe three, bites of almond chicken, I spent the rest of the evening watching television with my parents. We started with the six o’clock news then changed to the History Channel, where we were sucked into a marathon of Pawn Stars. Chumlee cracks me up. Well, he typically does. Due to my somber mood, he just made me smirk a lot.

  My dad yawns. “Well, I’m ready for bed.” We lost mom for the night about an hour ago. He turns to me, his body half hanging off the recliner. “Are you heading up?”

  I don’t feel sleepy at all. “No, I think I’ll stay and watch something else.”

  “Not tired?”

  I shake my head.

  My dad’s mouth quirks up. “Imagine that. A good doping will do that to you.”

  I roll my eyes. He doesn’t like that my mom gave me a sedative that knocked me out for half a day. The two of them ended up having breakfast for dinner and before he cracked each egg he’d hold it up and say, “This is your brain.” Then he’d crack the egg into the pan and say, “This is your brain on drugs,” as it sizzled. Then he’d leer at mom. “Any questions?” I guess it’s an old 80’s commercial. After the sixth time he said the slogan, she snapped him with the dish towel.

  My dad pats my head as he passes me. “Good night, Em Bug.”

  I stare after him in surprise. I can’t remember that last time he called me that. “’Night.”

  When he disappears up the stairs, I start to flip through the channels. Infomercial, infomercial, Jersey Shore, HGTV, infomercial. As I continue, there’s really nothing on I want to watch. I mute the TV and stretch. What to do? There’s a book I was in the middle of reading before I came home. I head upstairs and grab it, along with my pillow to make me a cozy reading space on the couch. I get a bottle of water from the fridge and settle into my little nest to pick up in the middle of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I’ve missed Lisbeth Salander; she’s definitely kick-ass, something I am completely unfamiliar with.

  I find my bookmark, open the book, and start scanning the paragraphs to figure out where I left off. I bend the spine back and forth and settle in to read when a piece of folded notebook paper falls out from between the front cover and first page.

  What’s this? I close the book and unfold the paper.

  Em –

  Things have been crazy busy lately so I wanted to go old school and put it on paper (this way you can keep it forever) and tell you I love you more than you know.

  More than the sun

  More than the stars

  More than breathing

  More than life itself.

  Until the end of forever,

  James

  My throat tightens and my chest feels hollow.

  I wish I had found his note sooner, when I could have told him I felt the same. I would give anything just to be able to tell him again that I love him. To hold him in my arms, kiss his crooked smile, and run my fingers through his hair. To tease him about drinking too much Red Bull because he stayed up late watching a game or admonish him for not doing his laundry. Lately we’d been making plans for our senior year and beyond; we’d requested an off-campus apartment for housing in the fall. The goal was to live together, graduate together, and start our future together.

  I lay my head down in my reading nest and hold the paper close to my heart. You would think there wouldn’t be any tears left, but they spill silently down my face. With my book forgotten and my pillow soaked, I clutch the note to my chest and repeat the same thing over and over in my head, trying to lure sleep into taking me.

  I love you. I miss you. Until the end of forever.

  I open my eyes and groan. “Oh man.”

  “Nice to see you too.” Shel is sitting across from me in the chair with her arms and legs crossed, her big brown eyes trained on me. I imagine she has been impatiently waiting for me to wake up. The ends of her light brown hair have been colored a fiery red and her blunt-cut bangs remind me of Zooey Deschanel. She uncrosses her arms and leans forward, resting her chin on her hands.

  “How long have you been here?” I ask, burying my face back in the pillow.

  “About an hour.”

  I pick up my head and look at her. “I planned to be dressed when you got here so you wouldn’t think I was totally crazy.”

  “I don’t think you’re totally crazy,” she smiles. “I think you’re just a little crazy.”

  I sit up and roll my eyes. “Thanks.” Looking around the room, I ask, “Where is everybody?”

  “Your parents went to Home Depot. I guess they have some big yard work plans today.”

  “Yeah, they’ve been itching to get the garden in. Where’s your stuff?”

  “Your mom got me settled in Mike’s old room pretty quickly,” she chuckles. “Your parents seem pretty excited that I’m here.”

  “They are,” I agree.

  “Are you okay with my being here?”

  I pause for a second and give her a small smile. “Of course I am, but it is a little embarrassing. I wish they’d waited until the summer to bother you, when you had planned to be home. I don’t want this to screw with your classes…”

  “It’s not a bother. My school won’t be screwed up. You do remember who you’re talking to right? Captain OCD?”

  I laugh and nod. “Yeah, you are a little overly organized.” I stretch. “I guess I should get dressed.” I pull off the blanket that someone put over me and stand. The note I found the night before falls to the floor. I bend down quickly and pick it up.

  “What’s that?” Shel asks.

  I want to say it’s nothing because that would be easiest. Instead I look down at the note in my hands and hold it out to her. If she’s here to help me get through this, why not start now?

  Shel gives me a confused look as she stands and takes the paper. As she reads it, her eyes get wide and then she looks at me.

  “It was in my book,” I explain as I gesture to Dragon Tattoo on the coffee table. “He must have put it there sometime…anyway, I just found it last night.”

  Shel looks hurt for me. Her face crumples and she takes a few steps, wrapping me in a hug. I’m surprised by her action; she’s not usually one for anything touchy-feely. It takes me a minute to pat her on the back reassuringly.

  “It’s okay. I don’t typically sleep with things from my dead boyfriend. I just happened to find it last night,” I try to explain so she doesn’t think I’ve completely lost it.

  She abruptly lets me go and steps back. She hands me the note and says, “You keep this in a safe place. So you can look at it whenever you feel the need. Sleep with it if you have to. Do you want me to laminate it?”

  “What?”

  “Laminate it. So it stays nice and doesn’t tear.”

  “No,” I shake my head. “You think I should continue to sleep with this?” I was going to slide it under the flap of the still-sealed box of pictures and memory-type stuff from my dorm.

  “If it makes you feel better. If it makes you feel closer to James.”

  I hadn’t thought about that.

  “What does make you feel better? Anything?” she asks.

  There is one thing. “Not talking about it,” I say matter-of-factly.

  She makes a face. “You mean not dealing with it.” She crosses her arms.

  “Shel, I can’t sit here all day and just bring up random –”

  She shakes her head adamantly, cutting me off. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t have to talk about him all day, every day. But think about what he would want. Would he want to see y
ou sink into a depression? Seclude yourself? Starve?”

  Of course he wouldn’t want that. “I don’t think that’s what is happening. I don’t think I’m depressed. I’m just…really sad.”

  “Hmmm.” She pauses for a moment, squints her eyes and tilts her head as if evaluating me. “I think you’ll be all right.”

  “Gee, thanks doctor.”

  She smiles. “Sorry. I was thinking about what your mom told me when she called.”

  “What did she say to make you drop everything and come to my rescue? I’m starting to worry.”

  Shel reaches for my elbow. “I’ll tell you while you get dressed. I don’t want your parents to come home and find you in your pink pj’s and fuzzy socks. It’s noon. They’ll fire me.”

  My best friend leads me upstairs where she sits on the bed as I go to my dresser and place James’ note in my top drawer, tucking it under my socks. “Be right back,” I tell her and head to the bathroom. I quickly brush my teeth and almost expect to hear James’ voice. But I don’t.

  “So,” I ask Shel when I return to my room. “What’d my mom tell you?”

  She sighs. “Don’t be mad. I think your parents are just really worried.”

  “Dude, you’re scaring me.” I take a cue from Shel’s attire and pull some jeans and a black tank top from my dresser.

  “She said you were sleeping all the time. That it was next to impossible to wake you up. She told me that when you are awake, you’re robotic, like not really there.”

  I concede that evaluation and nod as I dress.

  “You’re still not eating…”

  Again with the food? I pull my top over my head. “I eat! I mean, not like normal, but more than the last time I saw you.”

  “Okay.” Shel lets that one slide. “She said you have bad dreams. Nightmares. She said you attacked her.”

  My face flushes red in embarrassment.

  “What was the nightmare?” she asks, concerned. “I don’t remember you ever having those, even as a kid.”

  I take a deep breath and sit next to her on the bed. “I dreamt of the accident. I was there, but couldn’t find...him. I saw the Jeep and tons of blood; it felt so real. I could sense everything, even smell it. I was screaming for him, and I was so weak and tired. Then his mother was there, strangling me, choking me, and yelling that it was my fault. I was fighting her off when in reality it was my mom trying to wake me from the dream.”

  Shel’s eyes are wide. “What do you think brought that on?”

  “The Davis’ paid my parents a visit. I overheard their conversation.”

  “And?”

  “They are upset with me and the way I acted at the funeral. Their family was offended.”

  Shel’s face twists in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

  I look down, ashamed.

  “What did they want you to do? Sing and dance like everything is fine?”

  My eyes burn with tears as I remember my breakdown. I try to blink them away.

  “Em, you shouldn’t feel bad about what happened. That’s what funerals are for; for people to grieve and say goodbye and get upset…”

  “Shel.” I stop her and close my eyes. “You were there,” my voice shakes. “You heard me screaming…saw me crying...”

  My chest tightens. I remember the feel of plastic against my back as I slid from the chair. I remember how rough the carpet felt as I crawled across the floor on my hands and knees. I remember trying to stand and my legs failing me; my hands reaching to grasp the casket, but sliding off the varnished wood. I remember trying again and again only to have my father and my brother grab ahold of me to pull me back. I struggled with them; pushed them away as my fingers finally found purchase on the shiny wood. I remember gripping it as tight as humanly possible and feeling my brother try to pry my fingers off as my father held me around my waist and pulled me back. All the while I was screaming, “No! Let me be with him!”

  Tears run freely down my face as I open my eyes and look at Shel and choke out, “I wanted to be…I tried to crawl in…I wanted to be inside with him!” I cover my face and sob into my hands. “How sick is that?”

  After a moment Shel gently pulls my hands from my face. Tears make silent tracks down her cheeks too. She smiles weakly. “I don’t think that’s sick at all. Now, eating strawberries dipped in ketchup, that’s sick.”

  I stare at her stupidly for a moment and then a laugh escapes. I quickly slap my hand over my mouth, and she starts to laugh too. The laughter is contagious and, before we know it, we can’t stop. We lay on the bed convulsing in a fit of hysterical giggles and grief.

  “I’d forgotten about that!” I tell her when my laughter subsides enough so I can breathe.

  “It was so gross! But it won me $10 didn’t it?” Shel says, wiping the tears from her face. “I still have to repay Matt for that dare.”

  “How many years has it been? Like five?”

  “Probably. But some things you never forget!”

  We lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling while our breathing returns to normal. As I wipe away my tears, I turn my head to face her. As much as I don’t want to admit it, it feels good to laugh. “I’m glad you’re here,” I smile.

  “Me too,” she smiles back at me.

  Chapter 6

  James makes an appearance in my dreams again. I’m starting to get used to this. In fact it’s becoming a comfort. I can count on my subconscious to replay memories I haven’t thought of in years, almost as if there is a movie library in my head and my mind selects which film to play each time I sleep.

  “I love you,” James says to me.

  “I love you too.”

  “No, like really love you.”

  “I know.”

  “No. Like seriously forever love you.”

  I look up from my book and stare at him. We’re supposed to be studying for our world history final. Two more weeks of high school and then we’re done. Officially graduated. I smile and lean forward to kiss him.

  “I know.”

  He kisses me back, but something feels off.

  “Okay,” I close my book and scoot closer to him on the floor. “What’s up?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something’s bothering you.”

  “Nothing’s bothering…”

  I give him my “Don’t lie to me” look.

  He rolls from his side to his back and covers his face with his hands. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can.”

  He shakes his head.

  What could it be? I start to get nervous. “So you’re just going to lie there?”

  He sighs, moves his hands to rest on his stomach, and turns his head toward me. “I got the letter from Ferris.”

  “And?”

  “They offered me a full ride to play on the team.”

  I zone out for a minute and then shake my head to clear it. “That’s amazing!”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “It is!”

  James props himself up on his elbow. “This wasn’t the plan.”

  “Well, no,” I say. “But you can’t turn it down. It’s an opportunity of a lifetime!”

  He reaches out and pulls me against him, so I’m lying beside him with my head resting on his chest. He wraps his arms around me. “We won’t be together.”

  Ferris State University had expressed interest in James this past hockey season and we’ve been anxiously awaiting this news. In the meantime, we applied to other schools and Western Michigan has accepted us both. I received a partial scholarship as well, which made WMU a permanent part of my future. Since it appeared Ferris was dragging their feet, James was making plans to become a Bronco in the fall with me.

  “But we’ll be close,” I say. “It’s just under a two hour’s drive from Kalamazoo to Big Rapids.”

  “Been doing some research, have we?”

  I shrug. “Maybe. Just
in case.” I lift my head to look at him. “Your parents must be ecstatic.”

  “That’s an understatement,” he crookedly smiles.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  He lifts his head and kisses me. “I’m going to miss you.”

  I sigh. “I guess we’ll have to make the most of our summer.”

  His smile fades, and my eyes search his face. “What is it?”

  “They want me to help with the kid’s summer hockey camp. I have to leave in three weeks.”

  I can’t hide my disappointment and my expression wilts. “Really?”

  He nods.

  I place my head on his chest again so he can’t see my face if my emotions decide to betray me.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

  “Don’t be,” I tell him, but my voice wavers. “It is what it is.”

  “You know I hate that saying.”

  I chuckle. “I know.”

  “Listen,” he sits upright and takes me with him so we’re sitting facing each other. “I don’t have to do this. We have everything worked out for Western.”

  Inside I want that. Bad. I want to be selfish and tell him ‘Okay! Tell Ferris they can kiss it!’ But my rational side wins out. “Don’t be ridiculous! Your parents would murder you if you turned this down. No way. You’re going to Ferris.”

  He takes my hand and stares at it, then runs his thumb lightly across my knuckles. “I feel bad.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t. We’ll work it out. I have a car, you have a car, there’s this modern technology called a phone. We’ll be fine.”

  He gives me a worried look and reaches out to push my hair behind my ear. “What if you find someone else?”

  His question takes me by surprise. That’s what he’s worried about? “That won’t happen,” I squeeze his hand in reassurance. “What about you? What if you find someone else?”

  “Not possible,” he says without hesitation.

  “How can you be so sure?” I ask him playfully. “There must be plenty of sexy blonde coeds throwing themselves at the star athletes.”

  He grins. “Well, if you put it that way…”

  “Ugh!” I drop his hand in mock disgust.