The Incident

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The Incident Page 2

by Cami York


  “Oh baby, don’t cry. Whatever this is we’ll get through it.” No we won’t mom, because once you and dad find out what I’ve done you won’t like me either.

  I tried turning on my side to escape her gaze but daddy was on the other side. His face was a blur but there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes.

  That look only made my heart bleed more and the infuriating tears begun in earnest again, not like they’d ever stopped.

  I wanted to tell them to leave me alone. That I wasn’t worth their worry and care, and it broke my heart that after everything they’d done for me, I had come to this.

  I finally closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. They sat there for the longest time running their hands over my head and arms before I drifted off to sleep for real.

  It was a dream; I knew it was somehow. Brandon and I were in the backyard at my house in the hammock.

  I had my feet in his lap as we swayed gently under the big old magnolia tree that shielded us from view. It was our favorite place, our secret haven.

  We were both reading, he some techie stuff and me one of my new adult romance novels that he likes to tease me mercilessly about.

  The sun was bright and high overhead, it was about four in the afternoon. The birds were flitting from tree to tree singing their little hearts out and all was right in my world.

  Every once in a while I’d just look over the top of my book at him and my heart would squeeze in my chest.

  Sometimes I couldn’t believe he was mine, this gorgeous boy, with the wild black hair, and the piercing green eyes.

  His dimples showed in a smile even as he kept his head buried in the book. “I can feel you staring, what gives?” He tweaked my toe playfully and I laughed, a laugh so filled with joy it was almost too much to hold.

  I love moments like this, lived for them in fact. No one else has ever made me feel such unbridled joy. Only with him was I able to be free, and when he’d been gone for those four years between thirteen and seventeen I’d missed him like crazy.

  3

  Brandon and I had been best friends since we were about three. We did everything together and were practically joined at the hip.

  Until his dad got a promotion that took him out of town the summer before we started middle school. I thought I would die without my best friend in the world. I thought we’d be together forever.

  We tried staying in touch that first year, but life intervened. He found new friends and so did I, though I never forgot the only human being other than my parents that I’d loved; unconditionally.

  No one was more pleased or surprised than I when he returned to town a year and a half ago. I remember the day I opened the door to see him standing there.

  A more mature taller version than the boy I remembered. He was a stranger in some ways but the same boy I’d known my whole life in others. One thing was certain; he was hot.

  My first thought was that the awkward knobby- kneed kid I’d known was gone and in his place was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen outside of a magazine spread.

  He’d wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off my feet and right then and there I’d given him my heart.

  I hadn’t ever felt the rush of excitement that ran through me in that moment. I felt the strength in his arms as they held me, and the soft heat of his lips when he kissed my cheek before putting me back down on my feet.

  Dad had come to the door by then to see what all my wild screaming was about and the wide grin on his face said he remembered my old friend.

  We’d stayed up late that night talking about everything, trying to fit the last few years into a couple hours before he had to return to his old home across the street.

  Even after he’d left we’d stayed awake, sitting in our respective windows the way we had when we were younger, talking on our phones until well into the night.

  The next day was Saturday and we spent the day together revisiting all our hold haunts. It was as if time had never passed and we were back to being who we were, except now there was a new tension in the air.

  It was two weeks later when he was the one to finally say out loud what we were both thinking. “I came back for you Kristi.” Those words were the sweetest I’d ever heard.

  We were sitting in the local Dairy Queen late at night, hidden in a back corner away from the windows because we didn’t want anyone to see and interrupt us.

  We’d both been jealous of each other’s time. He didn’t have to start school until the following term. Apparently where he’d moved back from had a different school year.

  So I’d rush through the day those last two weeks of school just to get back to him. My excitement couldn’t be contained and eventually I had to tell my friends why I was giving them the brush off.

  Needless to say, they wanted to meet him and once they did there was no denying the looks of interest on their part. I couldn’t blame them; he really was a sight to behold.

  Now we were sitting there and I was digging into his blizzard because I’d got my usual chocolate, but his caramel cream looked so much better.

  I’d asked him something else entirely and when he hadn’t answered had looked up at him, only to find him staring at me with the most-tender look in his eyes. And then he’d said the words.

  That night we became a couple and it was the happiest time of my life. When school started back my friends really got to know him since I’d kept him all to myself that summer.

  And though there was a lot of admiring looks and just a bit of jealousy, everyone knew he was mine. We were so wrapped up in each other we didn’t have time for anyone else.

  Something pulled me out of my dream and my eyes fluttered open to half slits. At first I thought it was daddy sitting in the chair across from me but then I got that feeling I get only when I’m around Brandon.

  It was then I realized he was holding my hand as he rested his head back against the chair he was slouched in, next to my bed.

  I held still so that he didn’t disappear as tears of loss and pain escaped the corners of my eyes. My heart hurt for both of us. For what I’d done to something so beautiful that had had so much promise.

  Where were my parents? I didn’t expect them to ever leave my side. But of course they would leave me with Brandon; they trusted him with me.

  They didn’t know. Oh hell! I felt new panic at the realization that my whole world was about to come crashing down around me.

  I must’ve made a noise because his head whipped around and even in the dark room I could see the redness in his eyes.

  I moved my lips to say ‘I’m sorry’ for the thousandth time, but the words wouldn’t come. My shoulders shook as I tried to hold back the tears.

  He didn’t say anything, just stared back at me wordlessly, but at least he didn’t let go of my hand. Whoops, spoke too soon. He dropped my hand but still held my gaze and I died a little more inside at the look in his eyes.

  He was still mad at me, still hated me. The pain cut as deep as it had the first time he turned away from me. I wanted to disappear. Please somebody take me away from this pain.

  He lowered his head and clasped his hands together between his knees and I wanted so badly to hear his voice. Even if he told me go to hell, it would be better than his cold silence.

  I missed our closeness, and I knew that even as he sat there in that chair next to me, my Brandon was a million miles away. Out of reach, closed off from me forever.

  I turned my face to hide the stupid tears that fell from my eyes. No more tears. It was obvious that he no longer loved me and not even death wanted me, so I was stuck in this skin that I wanted to escape more than I wanted my next breath.

  “You don’t get to do that. Turn around and look at me.” There was such anger in his voice, but at least he was speaking to me again. I turned slowly, afraid of making any sudden moves lest he walk out of the room.

  This is what I’d been relegated to. The girl who’d had so much confidence was now a barren shell of
her former self and I hadn’t even made it out of my teens.

  I made myself look up at him since he’d got to his feet, my heart bleeding inside. It took everything I ha left to hold his gaze. Could he see me crumbling into a million pieces? Could he see the very life draining from me?

  I wanted to close my eyes against what I saw in his. There was none of the love I was used to seeing in his eyes.

  Instead I saw distrust, distaste and something else that I couldn’t quite name. He tried to hide what he was feeling but it was too late, the damage had already been done.

  I wanted to scream at him to go away, I couldn’t bear to be that close to him with him hating me the way he obviously did, but I needed him there with me. I thought I would die if he left.

  “Why did you do this?” He gripped his hands into fists and I knew he was trying to restrain himself. It’s not often I’ve seen his anger, and it’s never been turned against me, but I know the strength of it.

  The thing is always in the past it was in defense of me. Now I know what it feels like to have that icy glare focused on me and I felt like shit.

  “I asked you a question Kristi, why did you do this?” I was afraid not to answer. I knew he’d leave me if I didn’t. And I’d rather his hate than his absence, his silence.

  “Because…because you wouldn’t talk to me.” There was anger in his look and I could see he was trying to control that too.

  The way you would when you were handling someone with issues. Someone you were afraid might do themselves harm. Too late for that.

  Only a few weeks ago, the only thing I saw in his eyes was love. He’d made my world feel safe, secure, now he was killing me with his coldness and it was tearing me apart.

  Everything hurt, but nothing hurt as much as my heart, or the hole where my heart once was. I felt tears leak from my eyes again and was too afraid to move to wipe them away.

  I felt like everything I do now is under a microscope, and the fact that he wasn’t answering me said more than words ever could. Where were the reassurances that I was going to be okay?

  Why wasn’t he taking me in his arms and kissing my head the way he always does when I’m upset? The last time I had a cold he never left my side.

  He’d snuck in my bedroom window ten minutes after saying goodnight and walking out my front door. That night he’d stayed up with me taking care of me until the early morning when he had to sneak off again.

  But now, there was no compassion, no caring in his eyes when he looked at me. “Why am I not talking to you Kristi?”

  His question only made me cry harder as the whole ugly mess came crashing down on my head again. That empty dark void opened up and sucked me in.

  I choked each time I tried to speak, the words getting stuck in my throat. In that moment I wished I’d succeeded because I knew that he still hadn’t forgiven me.

  That he still didn’t believe that I didn’t have all the answers to what happened the night my world imploded.

  4

  It was a Friday night like any other. The game had just ended and there was lots of excitement in the air.

  We’d won the last playoff game and were headed to the finals to meet our old nemesis and everyone was on a high.

  As head cheerleader it had been my job to plan the after party this go round. I was nervous because I’d heard a few whispers about some kids who were planning to bring alcohol and pot on the down low.

  Something everyone knew I would never condone. My dad would have my ass if I ever got involved in something like that. I guess you can say I was a good-two shoes. I knew the rules and stuck to them.

  One of the reasons I had as much freedom as I did and was allowed more leeway than most of my peers is because I’d built a relationship of trust with my parents over the years.

  They knew they could depend on me to be honest and to do the right thing. So I was always very conscious of the choices I made and how they may reflect on them.

  “Jill, have you heard anything more about Sean and those guys bringing stuff to the party?”

  “Would you chill? Everything’s gonna be fine. No one’s gonna mess up your party.”

  There was something in the way she said it, something I’d been noticing more and more lately, but I brushed it off as just stress. I would never believe that my best friend was jealous of me.

  I was the only one of my clique who had aced the SATs and had a solid acceptance to one of the top schools in the nation.

  It wasn’t that I was smarter than everyone else, though I did hold my own. But I was the only one whose parents pushed me harder and farther and was actually there to see me through.

  High school had never been the party central most seemed to think it was, not for me. My daddy still helped me with my homework at the kitchen table and when he had to go out of town on business mom picked up the slack.

  In short, I had parents who cared when so many others didn’t. They’re the kind of parents who are there for every game.

  Who still take me to the dentist and to doctor’s appointments, while most of my peers were practically raising themselves.

  It was only after Brandon moved back, and we became inseparable that I started noticing some resentment towards me among my friends.

  But again I put it off to the fact that I no longer spent as much time with them as I had in the past. We were going to be apart for the next four years since none of them were going to the same university. But I figured we’d see each other on break.

  That night I was in too much of a rush to get home and get dressed. Brandon had been waiting for me next to his car, the new star running back.

  We were both too excited and hopped up on teenage love to care about anything else but each other and the night ahead. Neither of us had the slightest clue that the night would end in disaster.

  He’d dropped me off at home and because of pressure from my friends we had agreed to go to the party separately. He would arrive with his friends and I mine but we’d leave together.

  Things had started off nicely. Jill had come to pick me up. She was already in a party mood on the way to pick up the others.

  I hadn’t had any time to eat at home so when she offered me the diet soda I gulped it down. I was in the middle of complaining about her crazy driving when the first wave of nausea hit me.

  I told myself it was just nerves about the night ahead. I do so hate being the odd man out. Always being the voice of reason. Only Brandon seemed to appreciate my old fashioned ways as the girls called it.

  I grew tired not long after and by the time the others climbed in the backseat every little sound was like a bullhorn going off right next to my ear.

  Brandon hadn’t shown up yet by the time we got to the home where the party was being held, and the others went off to greet some of our friends.

  I knew the house like the back of my hand. It was Beth’s, one of my best friends. I slipped up the stairs and into her bedroom thinking I’d get a quick lie down and beat whatever this was that was bugging me.

  The next thing I remember it was morning and I had the worst headache of my life. I rolled out of bed not knowing where I was, stumbling all over my feet. It took me a while to figure out where I was, but everything else was fuzzy.

  There was no one in the house, which still showed signs of the party from the night before. Had I been drinking? That didn’t make sense.

  Sure I was excited the night before but I never drink, I’d promised mom and dad that I never would. Not even when I go off to college.

  I stumbled out into the sunlight and rummaged around in my bag for my phone. I called Brandon first but there was no answer.

  My next call was to Jill who came and got me and took me home. She was bubbly and talkative the whole way, but it was hard for me to think.

  Each time I asked about me at the party she’d somehow change the subject to something else until I gave up. When I got home I dragged myself into the house, avoiding my parents.

 
I took a quick shower and fell into bed for what seemed like hours. When I woke up later outside my window the sky was dark.

  I picked up the phone to call Brandon but again it went to voicemail. That was strange. Where could he be? We’ve never gone this long without getting in touch.

  There were dozens of missed calls and texts on my phone, but it only took one to bring my world crashing down on me. The image on the screen was one I never hope to see again.

  So powerful was the impact that it had sent me flying off my bed into the bathroom to throw up. Once I got myself cleaned up my first thought was of Brandon.

  I ran across the street to his place and banged on the door, but his mom answered and said he wasn’t there.

  I felt sick as I walk crawled back across the street. Mom called out to me but I gave her some excuse and hid in my room with the covers over my head.

  That’s when the shakes started and I felt like I was losing my mind. What had I done…?

  5

  Now he was sitting here with that look on his face like I disgusted him. “Brandon I promise you, I don’t remember anything about that night. Why won’t you believe me? How could you think that I would…”

  “Stop, just stop. I saw the pictures, they came from your phone.” True, all true, and I had no answers now just as I had none the last time we spoke.

  He’d stayed away for two days before coming back home. And even then I’d had to be the one to go to him. He’d stood in his doorway as if barring me from coming inside and refused to look at me.

  “Brandon, please talk to me, what’s going on?”

  “I saw.” That’s all he said before slamming out the door and heading for his car. I ran after him, pleading with him. I needed answers as much as he did.

  He pulled his arm away from me when I tried to stop him and when I went to get into his car the way I always did when he drove me to school, he’d locked the door. That’s when I knew I’d really fucked up.

 

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