by Amber Garza
I was startled when I spotted Addison, but not upset. In fact, I was surprisingly relieved to find her here. Her presence made me feel a little less alone. Loneliness was new for me. I’d never been lonely before. Never had a chance to be. I was always surrounded by others – at school, at home, at football practice. And I was one of the popular kids, so I was never lacking a supply of friends. However, now I always felt alone, even when I was with others. There was this emptiness inside that never went away.
When I looked into Addison’s eyes, I saw the same loneliness in her eyes, and it tugged at my heart. It was the first real connection I’d felt since Ryan’s death. And it was weird, because I’d been around lots of people who’d suffered loss. Hell, our entire school had. But Addison was different. She carried the pain with her. It swallowed her whole. She was clearly wrestling with similar demons, and it made me feel close to her.
Obviously the closeness didn’t go both ways though. She appeared to be desperate to get away from me. After she raced out of the cemetery, I dropped to the ground in front of Ryan’s gravestone. The flower display had grown, so the cheerleaders must have stopped by again. I wondered when they’d tire of doing this and move on. Probably when something new and exciting came along to steal their attention. Then again, maybe I was being too hard on them. Perhaps they were hurting too.
Besides, I knew Ryan’s mom appreciated the gesture. So I guess it was helping.
Picking up a stick, I drew lines in the dirt. Swirls with no rhyme or reason. When I was a kid I loved to draw, but that was ages ago. I also liked to eat bugs and stick rocks up my nose, so it didn’t mean anything. Dropping the stick, I sighed. My gaze dropped to Ryan’s name etched on the gravestone. I tried to picture him the way he’d been prior to his death. Attempted to conjure up the sound of his voice when he called me Riddles or when he teased me during a game. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on Ryan alive and well, the memories always morphed into the last moments of his life. It was those moments that swirled inside my head until I was dizzy and sick. The image of blood spurting, his body slumping forward, took precedence over every other memory. Angry, I slammed my hand into the ground. God, why couldn’t I make it go away? It was driving me insane, the visions plaguing me night and day. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go on like this. And I worried that ultimately it would destroy me. It would take away every ounce of sanity I had left. I’d end up like that crazy old lady that used to live next door to us. She’d wander the streets, mumbling unintelligible phrases after her husband passed. A few months later her children had her admitted into a convalescent hospital. I was a little too young to end up there, but I feared instead I’d end up in a straightjacket locked in a rubber room.
I was desperate for something to ground me, something to keep my thoughts here on earth. To help me escape this vicious cycle that held me captive. The memories overshadowed everything else, and all I wanted was for them to go away.
Groaning, I stood up, grabbing my head in my hands. Turning away from Ryan’s grave, I caught sight of a bouquet of wilting flowers nearby. Stalking towards it, I stared down at Preston’s name. Anger rose in me so strong it almost knocked me over. I wanted to feel sorry for the kid. And deep down I did. I knew we treated him like crap, especially Ryan. But the son of bitch had ruined my life. He’d taken away my friend. He’d killed innocent people, stealing their future, as if he was god. As if he had a right to decide if they could live or die. And he’d left our school in shambles. He’d stolen our innocence, left us with fear. Left us with memories of things we never should have seen. And then he ended it. He put a gun to his own head, allowing himself a way out.
I often wondered if that had been his plan all along. Like he’d known he wouldn’t be able to live with the horrors he’d inflicted that day. But I was still here. And I still had to live with it. Every moment of every day I had to keep going while the events of that day circled in my mind. It wasn’t fair. What gave him the right to do this to me? To any of us?
Kicking the ground, a plume of dirt and dust flew through the air. I fisted my hands at my sides, longing for release. Longing to hit something or someone. Anything to let go of some of this anger and pain. Spotting a nearby tree, I moved toward it. Pulling back my arm, I threw it forward, my fist connecting with the bark. It stung more than I thought it would and I yelped, drawing my hand back. Blood oozed out of my knuckles. For a minute I thought I might have broken it, so I made a fist and then spread out my fingers. I blew out a sigh of relief when everything worked. The last thing I needed was to end up in the emergency room tonight with a broken hand. God, I was such an idiot. Who punched a tree? Better yet, who punched a tree without expecting it to hurt like hell?
I watched blood run down my fingers and drop onto the dirt at my feet. Flashes of Ryan’s head lying on the cafeteria table with blood pooling around his hair filled my mind. I shook my head, willing it all away. Then I spun around and ran out of the cemetery.
When I reached my car, I bent over and breathed deeply. I needed to stay out of there. It wasn’t helping. It wasn’t bringing me peace. If anything it was hindering me. I could see that now. As I drove away from the cemetery I didn’t dare look in my rearview mirror. I didn’t acknowledge it at all.
And I wished I could do the same thing with my memories.
Drive away from them. Leave them buried in the ground, never to be seen again.
I was exhausted. All day I’d been walking around like a zombie. In first period we’d watched a movie, and I almost fell asleep at my desk. Of course I guess it was to be expected since I didn’t sleep at night. At lunchtime I found Holden and Chloe sitting in the middle of a patch of grass in the quad and joined them. None of us ate in the cafeteria anymore. It was too painful. Chloe’s dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and it swung behind her head like a kite in the breeze.
She smiled when I plunked down beside Holden. “Hey, Sawyer.”
At her greeting, my lips involuntarily tugged at the corners. There was something infectious about Chloe’s smiles. After everything she’d been through I always marveled at how genuinely happy she always seemed to be. While I endured my own horror the day of the shooting, Chloe had endured one just as bad. She’d been friends with Preston, but apparently he’d always wanted the friendship to grow into something more. When she got together with Holden, Preston saw it as the ultimate betrayal. Therefore, he threatened to kill Chloe after he’d shot Ryan. He pointed the gun at her and would’ve shot her if Holden hadn’t tackled him to the ground before he could pull the trigger. I couldn’t even imagine the kinds of nightmares she had. She never talked about it, but Holden had mentioned that she still struggled a little. “Hey, Chloe,” I responded, pulling my brown lunch bag out of my bag.
“What happened to your hand?” Holden glanced down at the bandages wrapped around my fingers.
“Had a little run in with a tree.” I gave him a sheepish smile.
His eyebrows raised. “Wanna talk about it?”
I knew Holden wasn’t immune to bursts of anger. Earlier this year he’d been so angry with his dad, he’d rammed his fist into a wall. However, I didn’t want to share what happened last night with him. Frankly, I wanted to forget the whole thing. So I shook my head.
“Fair enough,” Holden grinned, letting me off the hook. He slipped an arm over Chloe’s shoulders. When she leaned into him, her eyelashes fluttering, I felt an odd pinch in my heart. It had been happening a lot lately when I hung out with them. Jealousy seemed to be constantly creeping up on me. Maybe because I saw how much their relationship had helped them to heal, and I desired that. Clearly my own methods weren’t working.
After unscrewing the cap off my water bottle I took a sip. The cool liquid felt good as it swam down my parched throat. A breeze whisked over me, smelling like grass and flowers. Setting my water down, I yanked out my sandwich and unwrapped it. I used to have a huge appetite, eating everything in sight. But lately food turned my sto
mach. I figured it had something to do with the fact that I was eating when Ryan was murdered in front of me. Not exactly an appetizing combination. Still, I knew I needed to eat. Besides, it might wake me up a little, give me some much needed stamina.
“Wanna toss around the football tonight?” Holden asked.
“Sure,” I said, grateful for the offer. Now I’d have something to keep my mind occupied tonight. I took a bite of my sandwich, my gaze scouring the quad. A few students were scattered throughout, sitting under trees or on the concrete with food spread in front of them. In the distance I caught sight of the basketball courts, a group of boys tossing around the orange ball. In middle school I thought I wanted to play basketball. When I didn’t make the team, I decided to switch to football. It was a good move. I ended up being way better at football than I was at basketball, and finally I’d found my sport. At first my mom had been upset. She worried about me getting a concussion or something. But Dad talked her into letting me try out. Not that I was surprised by that. I had two older sisters who were out of the house and married. Neither of them had ever played sports. Having me was a dream come true for Dad. He was desperate to have a son who he could talk and play sports with. Luckily, I made the team my freshman year. And I’d only suffered minor injuries over the years, so Mom had loosened up a bit. In fact, she came with Dad to most of my games and cheered me on.
While Holden and Chloe talked about their plans for the weekend, my gaze landed on Addison sitting by herself across the quad. She was impossible to miss with her bright pink hair. Funny, I got the impression she wanted to be left alone, yet her stylistic choices were like a sign pointing people in her direction. She stood out more than ever before. A notebook was spread out over her crossed legs. She was hunched over it, writing furiously. Her demeanor indicated that she wasn’t working on a simple homework assignment.
And why was she alone? She used to hang out with a big group of girls. Had they dropped her because of what happened with Ben? Remembering her ice queen act the couple of times we’d talked lately, I realized it was probably her who’d dropped them. Still, I felt sorry for her. I knew how grief could tear you apart. How fear could keep you locked inside a prison of your own making. As I stared at her, sadness seeped into my veins, surging through me. The longer I watched her the more desperate I became to reach out to her. When I glanced back at Holden and Chloe, they were too lost in each other to even notice me. And it made me feel as alone as Addison.
“Hey, I’m gonna take off. I…have something to take care of.” Gathering up my wrappers and half-eaten food, I shoved it all in my lunch bag and stood up.
“Okay. See you tonight?” Holden reminded me.
“Yeah. Tonight.” I nodded, flinging my backpack over my shoulder.
“Bye Sawyer,” Chloe threw me a smile and wave.
I returned it before spinning around and heading in Addison’s direction. As I approached, I steeled myself for her cold reception. She hadn’t invited me over here, and from our recent interactions I didn’t think she’d like me walking up unannounced. But that didn’t stop me. I was drawn to her in a way I couldn’t describe.
“Hey,” I spoke tentatively when I reached her.
Her head bounced up, her light eyes shining in the sunlight. “Hey.” When she responded it sounded more like a question then a greeting. She pursed those perfect lips, and I wanted to laugh. One of these days I was going to tell her that that look wasn’t nearly as menacing as she thought it was. In fact, she was lucky every guy she spoke to didn’t try to kiss her when she did that. A small smile played on my lips. “What?” She snapped, and I forced my face into neutral again.
“I…um…” Reaching up, I scratched the back of my neck. “I just saw you sitting alone and thought I’d see if you wanted company.” I glanced down at the notebook in her lap.
Following my gaze, she smothered the words on the page with her hand. Her nails were cut short and painted black. Chunky, metal rings lined each pale finger. “If I wanted company I’d have it.”
Biting my lip, I nodded. Man, I wished she’d ditch the attitude.
“Just because you’re one of those people who can’t stand being alone, you shouldn’t assume everyone else is the same way. Some of us enjoy solitude.” She narrowed her eyes.
Annoyance sparked like a lit match. “You know, you really should think before you start making assumptions too.” I shook my head. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Some of the bravado she had a minute ago withered, a question filling her eyes. But it was too late. I was too irritated to back down now. “When I saw you at the grief counseling I thought maybe you and I could help each other. That maybe we could be friends. But clearly I was wrong.” When I started to back away from her, the bell rang out.
Addison pressed the notebook to her chest and stood, her expression hard, challenging. It was like she was daring me to say or do something, but I didn’t know what. And I didn’t want to stand around and figure it out.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t bother you again.”
Darkness cloaked her expression, and I knew I failed the challenge. Not that I cared at this point. “Fine. Thanks for coming by to tell me that,” she snapped, and pivoted on her heels. As she stalked off, a paper fell out of her notebook and fluttered to the ground.
I expected her to reach down to grab it, but she kept walking forward, seemingly unaware. A flurry of students walked toward us like birds flying in formation. Sighing, I stepped forward and bent down to pick up the paper.
“Addison,” I called after her.
I knew she heard me because her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t turn. Instead she walked faster. Blowing out a breath, I glanced down at the paper.
Darkness
Creeps up on me
Calling, beckoning
Taunting, mocking
I ignore, I hide, I run
Searching for light
But it’s fleeting
It’s elusive
Slipping through my grasp
But the darkness is near
Blanketing me, enveloping me
Until I’m surrounded
Until there is no light left
Only darkness
Poetry? That’s what she was working on?
Students pushed me, but I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place. She may have wanted nothing to do with me. She may have acted tough, like she didn’t need anyone. But this proved her wrong. This proved that she and I were exactly alike.
But more importantly, it proved that she needed me.
CHAPTER 5
Addison
“Mad” doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt when Mom forced me to go to that damn grief counseling group again. I fought her on it as much as I dared. Then I reluctantly gave in. The truth was, that no matter how angry I got with Mom, I never let myself unleash on her completely. There was something so sad and dark in her eyes. A sadness that threatened to devour me if I looked too hard or too long. And it made me feel sorry for her. She was maybe the only other person in the world who knew what I was going through. Even though it felt like she was the enemy at times, deep down I knew she was my ally. I wasn’t quite ready to extend the olive branch. There were too many unanswered questions, and I think a part of me blamed her for what happened.
Bouncer granny wasn’t at the door this time, thank god. In fact, no one waited at the door at all. After stepping inside, I whirled around, preparing to glare at Mom. I was certain she was sitting in the car, staring after me. But to my surprise, all I caught was a glimpse of the tail end of her car as she sped out of the parking lot. My heart leapt in my chest. She wasn’t going to stand watch this time? Even as relief washed over me, I also felt a twinge of something else I couldn’t place. Some nagging, uncomfortable feeling low in my gut. What was more important to Mom than playing the part of my guard dog? Oh, whatever. It didn’t matter. I need to focus on the gift I’d been handed – the chance to escape.<
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Without hesitation, I spun around and hightailed it out of the church. I knew I couldn’t go far. Mom would be back soon to pick me up. But there was a grassy area and some trees behind the church. I could hide in there until Mom returned. As my feet crunched over the grass, I wished I had brought my notebook. The group may not have helped me, but my writing did. Poetry was cathartic for me. I was convinced it helped me a lot more than sharing all my messed up thoughts with a bunch of strangers. Reaching down, I ran my fingers over the pocket of my jeans. My fingertips traced the outline of the pack of cigarettes nestled inside. At least I remembered these. Bending my head, I was about to duck under the branches of a nearby tree when a voice stopped me.
“What are you doing?”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Turning, my face hardened. “None of your business.” I had hoped my rude words and lethal glare would keep Sawyer from coming any closer.
But apparently the guy couldn’t catch a hint. He stepped toward me. “You’re not coming inside?”
“Taking granny’s place this week, huh?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“What?” His brows furrowed.
Rolling my eyes, I had no desire to explain. Sarcasm didn’t seem to be working on him lately anyway. It’s like his grief had stolen his sense of humor. So instead, I answered his initial question. “No, I’m not going inside.” I shooed him away with my hands. “But you better run along. They’re probably starting.”
“What if I’m more interested in talking with you?” Sawyer moved even closer to me, and I backed up, my heart picking up speed.
“If I wanted to be around people, I wouldn’t be out here.” With shaky fingers, I tugged out the pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Sawyer’s eyes widened in a look of surprise. It was exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for. Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes was never going to keep hanging around me if he knew I was a smoker. If I was good at anything lately, it was repelling people. I imagined it could be my new super power. With a smirk, I placed a cigarette between my lips.
