West

by Michele G Miller

  Jules: Stress, ptsd?

  West: Uh oh, did they get you into grief counseling too?

  Jules: Not yet, but it’s been mentioned. My dad was talking to my mom about ptsd. Apparently a lot of people have it right now

  West: Do you think that’s what this is then? With us?

  Jules: ?

  West: So we take time then?

  Jules: Okay, time

  West: I’ll see you tomorrow

  Jules: You better, I’m going to need you

  West: You’ll have Stuart

  Jules: Yeah, I know and he’s great but I figured something out today

  West: What’s that?

  Jules: YOU are my anchor

  And she crosses the boundary again. Damn her. I’m only human. My heart pounds as I hit the call button on my phone, the need to speak with her is overwhelming.

  “Are you kidding me, Jules? Do we have to take time? Dump him and be my girl.” To hell with right and wrong, I’m ready to beg.

  She sighs my name.

  “No, don’t you ‘West’ me. Ask Jeff—he’ll tell you. I’ve been crazy about you for years. I don’t want to bide my time anymore.” Anger seeps into my voice. I can’t help it. How am I supposed to hold back when she says these things to me?

  She doesn’t reply. I attempt to gather my senses, rolling off my bed and pacing my room. Who the hell am I, calling her this way, being uncontrolled and crazy? I need to calm down.

  “Damn it, I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t—”

  “You just,” I blow out a long breath. “You can’t say things like that to me.” Closing my eyes, I inhale, attempting to maintain my control. “I’m trying to take the high road here, but I don’t really owe Stuart jack, so if you press too hard I will break.”

  “I’m sorry. Truly, I shouldn’t have—”

  “Jules, don’t apologize for your feelings,” I interrupt, hating the way her voice shakes.

  I’m an ass, tearing into her for being honest with me. I’m the one who crossed the line with those texts. I’m the one who keeps taking her hand, who needs to walk away. It’s on me. I have to be better.

  “You’re stressed. Take some time and things will get back to normal.”

  Time and normal. Two words with new meanings after this week. We were reminded at how little time we could have, and as for normal . . . Well, we might never find normal again, but we need to try. Frustrated and knowing how hard her day will be tomorrow, I tell her to get some sleep.

  “I’ll try. You too,” she says.

  “Goodnight, Buffy.”

  “Goodnight, Spike.”

  My cell flies across the room the moment the call ends as I growl with infuriation. I hate this. I hate wanting her. I hate knowing she feels it too. She feels it, I don’t care how much she wants to deny her feelings. And worse than that is what scares me the most about our conversation isn’t thinking Jules would say no when I told her to dump Stuart. What scares me is the idea she might say yes.

  Fifteen

  Mortality isn’t something a normal eighteen-year-old thinks about, not that I know of anyway. We’re supposed to be the kings and queens of the world, the strong, the fearless. We have our whole lives ahead of us, college, parties, jobs, marriage, kids.

  My first dose of reality was served the day my mom died. That day I realized I might not achieve everything I want in life. Hell, I might not make it to the end of life, let alone see the dream ending. The one where I’m sitting on a porch with my wife surrounded by grandkids and telling stories of the good old days.

  The second glimpse into my mortality came Friday night when those sirens sounded and life flashed before my eyes. Only it wasn’t my life, it was hers—Jules’.

  As I sit in the crowded chapel listening to Jules and Katie talk about Tanya—about how they met on their first day of kindergarten, how they cheered together—I know I will never regret the moment I took her hand and brought her to safety.

  Maybe she would have been fine had I not pulled her with me into Grier house. Hell, she probably would have run the other way, avoiding being trapped altogether. A lot of our friends ran in the right direction. Only four people died in the field so the odds were in her favor. But had I not reached for her, had I run one way and her another, where would I be right now? No, I won’t ever regret that moment. I won’t regret holding her hand, talking to her, falling for her all over again—because today my life has more color than it has since my mom’s death.

  Today, I’m the guy who wants to text this girl my thoughts. I’m wanting to find my old life. I’m wanting to be in love. I’m wanting the future my mother made me promise to work for before she died.

  I came to these realizations in the middle of the night when my mind wouldn’t stop processing. I lay awake in bed until the sun colored the sky with pink and orange streaks and I thought about life. I want all these things now, but I’m unsure how to go about obtaining them. And if I do get them, I’m terrified I’ll screw it all up.

  Jules stops speaking, looking up from the podium in front of Tanya’s casket and peering into the crowd. She looks five years younger today, with her face void of makeup and her hair pulled back and curled around her shoulders and face. It’s easy to discern that she’s in pain. Katie looks the same, young, vulnerable, and hurting.

  In a moment of weakness before the funeral Jeff told me he doesn’t know how to comfort Katie anymore. All of her crying makes him feel helpless and the sound of her pain tears him apart. Then he told me if I repeated those words he’d kick my ass. He doesn’t have to play the man card with me in this instance, though. I get it.

  Jules’ eyes scan past the occupants in the chapel until she reaches mine. I swear I see her intake of breath as she closes her eyes. Once they reopen, I nod, acknowledging her and sending her a touch of strength through my gaze. She wets her lips and continues her speech.

  “Tanya was our third. We were more than best friends, we were sisters. And now there are two where there should be three.”

  “Tanya hated goodbyes,” Katie steps in, taking her turn. “She told us after her grandfather’s funeral several years ago that she never wanted to say goodbye again. Said it was too sad, too permanent. So today instead of saying goodbye to our beautiful friend, we’ll say, ‘Until we meet again.’ “ Katie finishes and turns to Jules.

  Beside me, Jeff shifts and I catch him sending an encouraging smile to Katie as Jules wraps up their memorial.

  “How lucky we are to have you watching over us. I’d rather have you here with me, but if we can’t have you here, there’s no one we’d rather have on our side up there than you. I love you, Tanya. I miss you, my best friend, my sister.”

  The girls walk around the podium and to the casket where they stop as their music selection plays through the chapel. They chose the theme song from Tarzan and my sight blurs as tears fill my eyes. I recall watching the movie on repeat as a kid, I imagine the girls did, too.

  My eyes follow them as they share a hug at the casket before joining Tanya’s family. They move down a line of people in the pews, hugging them all and sharing words before they take their seats. As she sits, Jules glances over her shoulder and smiles at someone behind her before she returns her focus to the front. She doesn’t move again until the service is over.

  “Katie said she and Jules are supposed to sit with the family at the grave site.” Jeff leans his elbow on the window ledge of his car as we follow the procession from the funeral home to the cemetery.

  “Good, at least I won’t have to watch her hang on Stuart some more.” A tremor runs through me as I think about the scene Jules made with Stuart in the chapel once the service ended. She’d been making her way down the aisle, hugging friends and giving the appropriate solemn smile to others. Until she spotted Stuart. He was standing at the back of the sanctuary in one of the last rows as though he’d arrived late, and when she saw him she essentially threw herself into his arms and
cried. The sight of his arms holding her to his chest as I walked by is forever etched in my brain.

  Jeff scoffs. “What did you expect her to do?”

  “I don’t know.” I can still hear the sound of her sobs. I scrub my face with my hands. “Ignoring him would have been a good start though.”

  “They’re a couple. I know you’re hoping for something to happen between you two, but don’t you think now isn’t the best time?”

  “You don’t get it.”

  “Why? Because I wasn’t trapped under the debris? Because I wasn’t scared shitless, too? I get it, West. I lost a friend, too. I live here, too. We all do. You don’t own the rights to feeling screwed up and sad around here anymore,” Jeff snaps. My lips part, but nothing comes out. I’m speechless.

  “Shit.” Jeff smacks the steering wheel. “I don’t mean to sound like a jackass.” His eyes flick between the road and I.

  I simply nod. He’s right. “I suck. I’m the one who should be sorry. I only meant you don’t get Jules and I. She sent me a text last night.”

  We turn into the cemetery and follow along the winding road into the back of the massive grounds where a small pond is situated among the acres and acres of grass, trees, and tombstones. Jeff pulls to the edge of the road and parks, along with the other cars in the processional.

  He removes the keys from the ignition before he speaks. “What did she say?”

  “There’s something there. Between us, I mean. She asked for time,” I tell him, thinking about everything we said last night.

  “Time for what?”

  “She said something to me, something and it made me confess how I felt way back in the seventh grade. I told her she could ask you for proof if she doesn’t believe me about my feelings.” I blow out my cheeks as I push open the car door. “I also told her I wanted to take the high road. I’m not going to steal her from Stuart; she has to break it off with him. Honestly, I figured she would thank me for Friday, tell me we could be friends, and then go back to the golden boy, but she admitted she’s confused. We both are.”

  I jam my hands into my pockets as I make my way to the burial site with Jeff on my heels. “Confused?” he asks once he’s at my side.

  Stopping, I turn and truly look at my best friend. “What did you think about in those moments, when the house was coming down?”

  Jeff studies me before he scratches his head and kicks at the ground. “My parents.” He looks at me again. “My future, Katie, football, school—everything, I guess.”

  “Everything,” I repeat and he nods. We move into step with the other mourners again. “Me too. I’m sure we all did. We all thought about all the things we would miss out on if we were gone. The difference is you only had to think about it for a few seconds, minutes at the most. I’m not belittling your or anyone else’s feelings, I swear. But Jules and I—” I shake my head. “We were stuck under a pile of debris for three hours, Jeff. She went in and out of consciousness for three hours in my arms with me promising her she would live. Do you think that’s why I can’t walk away now? Maybe it’s not my place to be here for her now that we’re out. Maybe I need to step away from her and let her go back to her life.”

  I shake my head as the realization hits me. It’s almost as though I feel guilt where she is concerned. I’ve made it my job to make sure she’s happy, to make sure she accomplishes all those things she told me she wanted while we were under the house.

  God, we’re seniors in high school; we’re teenagers. There isn’t supposed to be so much pressure here, but every time I look her way, my stomach twists and my heart leaps into my throat.

  Jeff doesn’t have the answer any more than I do, and as we stand respectfully through the burial service, we exchange several looks. We’re at Tanya’s funeral. Tanya, our friend, not just Jules’ and Katie’s friend. Ya-ya kissed Jeff in the ninth grade after homecoming—I doubt Katie knows—and she sat next to me at a party last year and pretended to be my date when “Randy Candy” Crenshaw wouldn’t stop coming on to me. She was a fun girl. Loved to party, loved her family and friends, loved life. The preacher at the grave says the same things I’m thinking, minus the party part, and Jeff and I share a smile with those nearby.

  The entire Hillsdale football team is around me, the cheerleaders too. It’s the first time I’ve been with these guys as a group since I stopped playing before eighth grade. I noticed Stuart make his way over as Jules goes to sit with the family, but he’s staying on the other side of Ruben and Tommy, and as far as I can tell, hasn’t looked my way.

  I slide my arm around the blonde next to me when she starts crying. I don’t look at who she is, it’s automatic. Comforting others has become routine for all of us in Tyler over the last six days. It’s so instinctive that when the service is over and people are dispersing, I find myself pulled to the one person I shouldn’t be pulled to—especially when her boyfriend is standing nearby.

  Oddly enough, Jules is all alone at the casket, sort of staring into the sky. I check over my shoulder and find Stuart engrossed in conversation with his teammates so I make my move. I walk up behind Jules, intending to merely breathe her in and be there if she needs me, but her hand lifts my way.

  She doesn’t look at me as her fingers reach for mine. “Do you wonder why we lived? Why we were saved, when in all honesty we should have been crushed to death?”

  “Every day,” I say honestly as my fingers weave between hers.

  I admire the view from Tanya’s final resting place as I hold Jules’ hand. I feel her eyes turn to me, but I don’t meet them. Knowing this isn’t the time or place, I clear my throat and attempt to pull away.

  “Don’t.” Her head shakes as her teeth catch her bottom lip.

  Stuart is nearby, her parents are nearby, anyone and everyone could be watching us, but when she inches closer and leans into my side, her head resting against my arm, I forget them all.

  “This is why,” I say under my breath.

  “This is why, what?”

  Everything about this moment causes me to smile. “This is why we’re alive, Jules,” I tell her, lifting our hands up between us and grazing her knuckles with my lips. She and I, we were thrown together for a reason. Call it luck, coincidence, accident, fate, whatever you want; I don’t care. I’ll call it meant to be.

  If it weren’t for Stuart showing up right then, I think I would have told her my thoughts. Instead, as Jules pivots on her toes, nervously stepping away from me, I swallow down every thought I have and simply tell her I’ll see her later.

  Sixteen

  “Hey, man, you think you could drop me home?” I ask Jeff once I catch up with him.

  “I thought you were coming to the reception at the Rivera’s house with us?” Jeff asks, pointing out Katie who’s leaning against his car fixing her smudged make-up. She looks up from her compact with a tentative smile. “Did something happen?” he asks over the hood of his car.

  Jeff’s eyes squint as though he’s trying to read between the lines with what I’m saying. He knows me too well. I’m in no mood to be subjected to Jules hanging on Stuart for any length of time.

  I make a subtle shake of my head, clearly telling Jeff not to push this while I answer aloud for Katie’s benefit. “Uh, I’m just not into crowds today.”

  Katie’s forehead creases as she attempts to decipher our conversation. Jeff has the gall to chuckle low and shakes his head. “Nah, you should be there. For Tanya.”

  “For Tanya, huh?” Unless I want to open up a discussion about Jules and Stuart with her best friend standing there I’m going to have to go along. Jeff won’t give in. “Whatever,” I concede as I slide into the back seat and Katie takes shotgun.

  “How are your brothers?” Katie asks, breaking the tense silence once we are halfway to Tanya’s house.

  “They’re good, thanks.”

  “Good.”

  “It’s crazy they have an off week so early in the season,” Jeff chimes in, referring to A&M football.


  “Right? It sucks for the team; the rest of the year is going to be jam packed with games. But, it means they can come home for the weekend since we don’t have to go there.”

  Katie circles in her seat and looks at me with a frown. “This is weird. Is it because I’m in the car?” she asks. I meet Jeff’s eyes in the rear view mirror.

  “Weird, how?” I ask.

  “This,” she points her finger between Jeff and I. “Obviously you two are better friends than I knew, right? I mean I’ve seen you around more this week than I’ve seen you in the last two years, West. What’s up with that?”

  “You’re most definitely Jules’ best friend,” I laugh.

  Her eyes widen in surprise. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I meant it as one,” I assure her. “Jules ripped into me at the hospital on Friday night and said the same thing.”

  Katie grins. “That’s my girl. So what’s the deal with you two?”

  “Me and Jules?” I nearly choke.

  “No, you two,” Katie signals to Jeff and I once more. “But now that you mention it, what is going on with you and Jules?” She plops her chin on the back of her seat, her face all wide and innocent looking as she waits for me to answer her.

  Shit.

  Jeff frowns, rescuing me, “I never knew I had to explain my friendships.”

  At his irritated tone, Katie angles back to the front and smiles prettily at him as she touches his arm. Whatever anger her question provoked thaws at her smile and touch. Damn, she might as well flutter her lashes too, she owns him. I’ll remember this exchange the next time he gives me crap about being hung up on Jules.

  “Sweetie, I’m not asking for you to explain your friends. I’m just curious. You two act like brothers, but I’ve never seen you hanging out. I just—I didn’t know you were friends still, that’s all.”

  Jeff pulls into a parking space on a side street in the Rivera’s neighborhood and turns off the car. Turning to Katie, he runs his hand over her hair. “West is a brother to me, okay?”