by Sara Mack
“I can’t do this,” I say into his chest.
He whispers into my hair, holding me tighter. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
I move and wrap my arms around him. “And I never want to hurt you.”
James kisses my hair and continues to stroke my back. “I don’t know how I’m going to stop loving you,” he confesses.
We stand motionless, holding one another as time passes. It could be minutes; it could be hours. I’m not sure. My tears eventually slow and my throat feels thick. I think about how hard this is going to be for the both of us and realize how much harder it will be for him. There are powers at work here that I can’t even begin to comprehend.
“What happens now?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“I go back,” he says quietly. “I’ll look in on you and know when I’m needed and when I’m not. I’ll be capable of spending time with you, but…that will probably make things difficult.”
I know what he means. “What happens if you can’t stop loving me?”
James pulls away slightly, so he can look into my eyes. “I was told I would be given some time to learn to control my feelings toward you. But if I can’t…I will be forced to forget. Those who rule the Intermediate, The Allegiant, will take my memories of you. They will make me forget everything we ever had.”
Tears spring back into my eyes. My memories of James are my most treasured; the thought of someone forcing them from me breaks my heart. I can tell from his expression that he feels the same. I would never want that for him.
I have to push myself to speak. There’s not one part of me that wants this, but I have to do it for him. “I want you to stay away from me,” I say quietly. “Don’t visit.”
He looks at me bewildered. “How could you say that?”
“I would rather you stay away than jeopardize your memory. Take all the time you need to comply with their wishes. Do you even know what else they are capable of doing to you? No,” I shake my head, “I want you safe. I would never want you to forget us.”
James looks heartbroken just as I’m sure I do. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Please,” I ask him, tears falling again. “Please do it for me. I would die if you couldn’t remember how much I love you.”
He nods slowly and then leans in to kiss me softly. “I love you more than life itself. Never forget that.”
I’m just about to tell him the same when his head snaps up. I know that’s his cue to leave; something, someone must be calling him. I look at him frantic. When will I see him again?
“Remember that I love you,” I say quickly, tears pouring down my face now.
He nods and holds me tighter, as if he can stop the pull that draws him back. He fades from my vision, still wrapped around me. I can feel him grow warmer and warmer, until he disappears completely.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so hollow and alone. My body can’t compensate for all that it’s feeling and I stand there, numb, staring into oblivion.
James has left me.
I told him to stay away.
I love him with everything in me. And he can never love me again.
Minutes pass. My phone vibrates and I pick it up mechanically. You never answered my question. Why can’t you come over?
I blink then reply without thinking. My heart hurts.
Let me help.
As time passes, the need to get out of my house is overwhelming. The silence of my room deafens me. Everywhere I look I’m reminded of James. There is an ache in my chest from a seemingly bottomless well of tears and when I close my eyes, all I can see is his haunted last expression. I feel myself slipping back into my protective shell, the one that makes my parents and friends worry. I don’t want that. James wouldn’t want that. I’m in desperate need of a distraction.
I try Shel first, but if I’m going to be at all honest with myself, I know where I’m going to end up. Still, delusional as I may be, I call Shel four times. And leave four messages. Evidently she is unavailable.
I stare at my last message from Dane and take a deep breath. I type out my reply and hit send.
Be there in 15 minutes.
Chapter 33
I sit outside Dane’s place debating whether or not to get out of the car. What in the hell am I doing here? Now that I am no longer surrounded by physical memories of James, am I really that desperate for company? James hasn’t been gone but two hours and I end up at Dane’s. I can’t even fathom what that says about me.
I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. If I go inside, what would James see? He’d see a friend comforting a friend. Because that’s all we are. Does Dane want more? I think so. All I’m really looking for is someone to tell me that everything will be all right. Is that so terrible?
A rap on my window startles me and my eyes fly open. Dane is standing outside my car. He opens the door and leans in. “Did you drive all the way over here to sit in the parking lot?”
I shrug, giving him a weak smile. “I thought about it.”
“Well stay put,” he says and closes the door. He walks around to the other side of the car and gets in.
“Are we going somewhere?”
“Yep. I figured you wouldn’t mind driving since you like to do manly things, like pick up the tab at restaurants,” he smirks.
“Funny. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I cross my arms. “I’m not starting the car until you tell me where we’re going.”
He lifts an eyebrow at me. “Is that so?”
I nod.
“Well,” he sighs. “I guess we could just stay here in the car and make out…”
I start the engine.
Dane directs me where to go and when to turn, leading us beyond the south side of town. I haven’t figured out where he’s taking me until we pull off the highway and turn right. My hunch is correct when he directs me to Kirby’s Adventure Land, a family fun center.
“Mini-golf?” I ask him doubtfully.
“It’s been scientifically proven to heal the heart.”
I roll my eyes.
“Let’s go,” he says excitedly and hops out of the car.
We walk into the park where he pays for the both of us, cutting off my protest before it leaves my lips. Our first stop is the batting cages.
“I’ve never done this,” I say as I hold a helmet in my hands. He gives me a bat and moves me into position over the plate. He takes the helmet from me and places it on my head. “I’m going to miss,” I warn him.
“Doesn’t matter. The idea is to take out your anger. Pretend whatever it is that’s bothering you is coming at you in the form of a baseball – and kill it.”
Okay, I think. That doesn’t sound so hard. He shows me how to hold the bat and then steps out of the way. The first ball is launched at me, and I automatically jump back. Hmmm. I reposition myself and anticipate the next pitch. I’m a little more ready, but I still swing and miss. I miss the next four balls.
I turn around and look at Dane. “This is stupid. I can’t do this.”
He smiles. “Keep going.”
The next ball whizzes past me. And the next. All right, this is getting serious. I refuse to look like a fool. I reposition myself yet again and concentrate harder. I imagine Garrett’s face, even though I’ve never seen him, as the next ball. It’s launched toward me and I actually hit it – kind of. At least I made contact. I turn around and give Dane a surprised look. He gives me a thumbs up.
The next ball is Mrs. Davis. I manage to hit her and the ball goes a little farther. The next ball is Patrick. I swing and make full contact with the ball, sending it all the way back to the pitching machine.
“Not bad,” I hear from behind me.
I give myself a satisfied smile. Yeah, I’m starting to like this. Garrett is up again. Crack! He goes flying. Mrs. Davis. Crack! She heads to the left. Patrick. Miss. Whoops. My adrenaline picks up with each swing of the bat; stress is released every time I
make contact with a ball. I alternate between Garrett, Mrs. Davis, and Patrick until my pitches are spent. I must say I’m pretty proud of my performance given I hit eleven balls out of my twenty.
Dane meets me at the cage gate. “Feel better?”
“Much,” I smile at him and hand him the helmet.
He gives it to the attendant. “Go Karts next?”
We head over to the karts and stand in line. I lean against the fence and watch the other driver’s race around the track. My family used to come to this place when Mike and I were kids, although our main activity was mini golf. We’d always play against each other; loser was supposed to buy the ice cream. I smile as I remember how my dad always lost.
Dane turns and challenges me. “What do you say we place a little wager on this race?”
I pretend to look suspicious, but grin anyway. “What do you have in mind?”
“Loser buys drinks on the way home.”
I think about it and eye the track. I must be feeling over confident from the batting cages. “Deal.”
We watch the rest of the race and try to determine which karts are the fastest. Dane thinks the blue one is faster and ends up behind its wheel, while I choose yellow #4. I catch his eye from across two lanes and give him a competitive nod, flexing my hands around the steering wheel.
“Bring it!” he shouts to me.
After the attendants make sure we’re secure and start our karts, the countdown begins. The light turns green, and we all peel away from the starting line. I get caught up behind a little boy and his father right off. I try to maneuver around them, but don’t manage it until the second turn in the track. Dane is already way ahead of me. I gain a little ground during the second lap as I push the pedal to the floor. I’m right behind him by the third lap. As we round the final turn to start the fourth, I actually start to edge around him. But toward the middle of the lap, my kart starts to sputter and lose speed.
“Noooo!” I yell in frustration as I realize the thing is probably running out of gas. I pump the pedal to make the kart move faster, but it doesn’t work. It cuts off and drifts to a stop.
The rest of the racers finish the lap and pull into the starting gate to end the race as I am stuck, stalled out toward the end of the track. I notice Dane looking around to see where I finished as he gets out of his kart. When he spots me, he starts laughing. I slouch in my seat as an attendant runs out to push me off to the side. Stupid yellow #4.
“I told you the blue one was faster,” Dane teases me as I walk off the track.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter under my breath.
He laughs. “I hope you brought money.”
I make a face at him, but end up smiling. It would be my luck that my kart would run out of gas.
“Are you up for golf?” I ask.
“Sure.”
We get our clubs and balls and take a few practice putts. It’s getting dark and the whole park is lit up like a stadium. “You sure you want to do 18?” I bend down to retrieve my ball. “It’s getting late.”
“Do you have a curfew?” he asks me.
“No,” I shake my head, laughing. “Just checking.” Then I have an idea. I’ve played this putt-putt course a million times; I can completely rock it. “So,” I try to ask casually. “Care to place a wager on this particular game?”
He thinks about it and smiles. “I’ll play. What were you thinking?”
“If I win, the last loss is void. It never happened.”
He grins. “Okay. And if I win, you kiss me.”
What? That was not where I was going with this! But…I look out over the course. I remember it well. I look at him and tilt my head confidently. “Deal.”
Dane looks shocked that I’ve actually agreed to this. He quickly rearranges his features and gestures to the first hole. “Ladies first.”
After the first nine, I’m only leading by two strokes. I screwed up on six, selecting the left instead of the right hole to shoot my ball out toward the cup. Then on the ninth green, I took a bad bounce off the brick edging, putting me one over par.
“Shoot!” I say with frustration as we start on ten. I try to compensate for the slope in the green, but my ball runs too far off to the right.
Dane looks amused. “You take your mini golf pretty seriously,” he notes. “Or is it our little wager that has you so determined?”
I look at him annoyed. “Both.”
He laughs.
Going into eighteen, we’re tied. Figures. I should have known not to trust my rusty skills. Dane takes his time setting up his ball and perusing the hole, trying to figure out the best way to attack it. I wait impatiently; I know exactly how to play this hole. He finally takes his putt…and sinks a hole in one.
Damn it.
He looks at me victoriously and walks over to take the score card from my hand. He puts an overly exaggerated “1” in the box. “Your turn,” he challenges me as his eyes light up.
Okay. I can do this. I give him a solid stare and walk over to place my ball. I set my feet, readjust my grip on the putter, and line up my shot. I hit the ball.
And sink another hole in one.
“Yes!” I raise my arms in victory. I walk arrogantly over to him and take the score card, putting an even more obnoxious “1” in my column. “That,” I say, “was all for you.”
Dane gives me a crooked smile and shakes his head in disbelief. “Excellent putt, Miss Donohue.”
I take a little bow. “Why, thank you.”
We head back to the beginning of the course to turn in our putters.
“So we tied,” Dane muses.
“Seems that way.”
“So you didn’t win.”
“Um, no,” I look at him like he’s crazy.
“So you owe me a drink.”
“What?”
“I didn’t lose,” he points out and smiles.
I make a face and concede. “Fine. Where do you want to go?”
We end up at a small bar down the street from Adventure Land. This is somewhere I never would have come alone. The exterior is dark and dingy with a blinking “open” sign in the window. To me the Parker Lounge screams horror movie.
“Are you sure this is where you want to go?” I ask Dane cautiously as we get out of the car. I eye the motorcycles parked in the lot.
“It’s not that bad,” he holds the door for me.
He’s right. Kind of. The inside of the bar is homier. There’s a scattering of small round tables with a red jar candle lit in the center of each one. Most of the room is filled with the requisite bar, but a colorful jukebox is set at the far end. A couple dances in the small space in front of it while Elvis croons “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”
We take a seat at the bar. A gruff looking bartender with a bushy gray beard and kind eyes leaves a group of men at the end and comes over. He looks at us like we must be lost. “Can I help you?”
Dane looks at me. “What’ll it be?”
“You won the bet,” I make myself comfortable on the stool. “Order what you want.”
“You’re not going to get anything?”
I consider it. “Do you have Coke?” I ask Long John Silver.
He nods.
Dane scoffs. “A Coke? Really?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Dane sighs. “We’ll take a Coke and a draft,” he nods toward the tap in front of him.
“I.D.?” Long John Silver asks.
Dane pulls out his wallet to show him his driver’s license. Long John is appeased and sets to getting our drinks. I look around the room nervously as we wait for his return.
“Why are you so on edge?” Dane asks. “It’s just a bar.”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. The people look nice enough.
“Out of your element?” he smiles. “Trying something new can be hard,” he says with mock sympathy.
I glare at him, but then cave in and smile. “Just drink your default beer,” I say as Long John ret
urns with our fabulous order. I glance at my Coke and there’s an unexpected cherry in it. I look up and smile at Long John and he smiles back at me.
“Default beer?”
“You totally won that race by default! I only lost due to equipment failure.”
He laughs. “That could be true.”
“It is true!”
“I guess we’ll need a rematch to test your true Go Kart skills,” he teases and takes a drink. “So,” he pauses,“how’s your heart?”
“Hmm?” I ask as I swallow.
“Your heart. How’s it feeling now?”
Honestly, I forgot all about it. But that’s what I wanted, what I came to him looking for. “It’s much better,” I admit. “Thank you.”
He nods. “Mission accomplished.”
I look down and swirl my drink around with my straw.
“When do you think it might be completely healed?” Dane asks, staring at his glass.
Good question. I can’t tell him that James was just taken from me a second time. “Eventually,” I say in a small voice. It’s the best answer I can give him.
He nods again, still focused on his glass, and takes another drink. “There’s no set time for grief, is there?”
I shake my head. “I wish I could explain it to you.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he says and gives me a slight smile. “I might understand it more than you think.”
My eyebrows shoot up. This is news. “How so?”
“I lost my mom when I was 14.”
I physically wince. “I’m so sorry.”
He surprises me by smiling. “She had cancer, but she was a fighter. And so stubborn,” he looks at me pointedly. “Kind of like someone else I know.”
I give him a sheepish look.
“Still, she had the best attitude toward everything in life, even her disease. She always found the time to laugh. If she was upset, she didn’t show it much.” He looks back across the bar. “It was a long time ago, but you never completely get over something like that, you know?”
I nod with sympathy and understanding. Yeah, I know.
We sit in silence for a few minutes. Dane finally turns to me. “I didn’t mean to bring down the party.”
I smile. “You didn’t. Thanks for sharing that with me. You didn’t have to.”
