Revive Me

by Ferrell, Charity

  She trembled at my touch. “You deserve more than being someone’s conquest, baby. You deserve someone who can give you the world. You deserve someone who can make you his girl and fight to never lose you. You deserve more than anyone in this town can give you, especially me.” She was going places and I wasn’t. I didn’t have money to get some fancy degree from an Ivy League school. I was little league, and I wasn’t going to keep her in my field

  She recoiled at my touch and pulled away. “Spare me the bullshit excuses because I don’t give a shit anymore.” Turning away, she stomped up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door.

  “Fuck my life,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead and falling back on the couch.

  “Damnit, Tanner,” I whispered to the ceiling, “you should’ve never made me promise. You knew if anything happened to you, I’d be the only person to save her. And now, it’s too fucking late.”

  Tessa

  “Is cereal okay this morning?” I asked, blocking my eyes with my hand and wincing at the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window. My head throbbed like a million bricks had busted through my skull, and a mac-truck rolled over my brain to complete the job. The what-ever-meister I’d drunk had killed at least two organs in my body, I was sure of it.

  “That’s fine,” Derrick said, sliding books into his backpack and falling heavily into a chair at the kitchen table. “As long as it’s the peanut butter kind.”

  “Of course.” I forced myself to act like everything was okay around him. He needed to be happy, even if I couldn’t. He needed a normal life. Our parents were practically catatonic; he needed someone to take care of him, and I was trying my best to do it without having a breakdown.

  I opened the fridge for the milk. I did all of the grocery shopping in the house now, the cleaning, and paid the bills. My mom walked into my bedroom two months ago, threw her checkbook and a pile of delinquent bills onto my bed, and instructed me to take care of them. And I did because I knew if I refused, they wouldn’t get done, and we’d be out on the streets.

  I poured his cereal and grabbed a bottle of water for myself before setting the bowl in front of him. “You’re not eating?” He asked, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth as milk dripped from the sides.

  “I don’t feel so hot today.” My stomach was churning with queasiness just watching him eat. I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I actually tried to consume anything. I swallowed hard, the taste of the alcohol and my vomit still lingering on my tongue, even after I’d brushed my teeth nine times.

  “Don’t forget you have to pick me up from school today. Sammy has a doctor’s appointment, so his mom can’t bring me home,” he said, shoving another bite into his mouth.

  Derrick was a mini-version of Tanner. That was one of the main reasons I think my parents couldn’t stand to be around us. We were all strikingly similar to each other and a constant reminder of their loss. When they looked at us, they only saw their dead son.

  “I’ll be there.”

  He smacked his palm into his forehead. “Shit, I forgot to tell you … Dawson said to call him last night.”

  “Language,” I said, giving him a stern look. “And I talked to him. He’s taking us to school this morning.”

  He looked up at me with the spoon still in his mouth. “Is there something wrong with your car?” he asked, at least that’s what it sounded like.

  I bit my bottom lip and took a drink. There was no way I was telling my teenage brother I got wasted at a party and couldn’t drive myself home. I was supposed to be the good influence in his life. He saw enough drinking and bullshit from my parents.

  “Nope, just needed the oil changed. It’s in the shop, but we’ll pick it up after school so I can come get you.”

  “Oh okay, I like that. I miss having Dawson around here. Can you ask him to come with you when you pick me up? Maybe we call all get ice cream and hang out after school?”

  I got up from my chair and grabbed his empty bowl. “I’ll talk to him,” I lied, ruffling a hand through his thick hair.

  The doorbell rang, and Derrick jumped up from his chair to answer it. “Dawson’s here!” he yelled, coming back into the kitchen with Dawson trailing behind him. “He said he’s cool with hanging out after school.”

  Shit! I wasn’t planning on actually asking him. I was going to tell Derrick he already had plans and couldn’t make it. I raised an eyebrow and glared at Dawson. He shrugged and shot me a sarcastic smile. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  The three of us hopped into his truck with Derrick sitting in the middle. The ride was quiet while Derrick flipped through the radio stations. He’d ask Dawson if he liked a song before leaving it on a station. I knew he missed having Tanner around and Dawson could fill that void. I slid out of the truck when we reached the middle school and let him out as he waved goodbye.

  The drive to the high school was longer since they’d moved us to a different county while they shut down ours as a crime scene. The town council couldn’t decide what they wanted to do with the school. People wanted it torn down and a new one built. They didn’t want something so tainted around them. They didn’t want their children going to school where others had been murdered, but our small town didn’t have the money to tear down an entire school and rebuild.

  “Tessa,” Dawson said, parking his truck. “We need to talk about last night.”

  “No, we don’t.” I shook my head and pushed my sunglasses farther up my nose. My eyes wanted to shrink themselves into my skull to stop the sensitivity.

  “Eventually, you’re going to. We need to talk about everything.”

  “No, we don’t,” I repeated. I would’ve rather jumped into a piranha-filled lake than have this conversation with him.

  “I swear to God, you’re starting to piss me off. Just fucking talk to me, please.” His voice sounded pained as he dragged his hands through his messy hair.

  “I drank at a party. We’ve all done it. You have. My parents have. And I’m sure half of the people in this school have.”

  He rubbed his fingers against his forehead. “You were beyond drunk.”

  I tilted my head back against the headrest. “I promise I won’t drink that much again, okay? It was a one-time thing. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Damn straight you won’t. Every party you go to, I’m coming with.”

  The hell he was. “I don’t need a babysitter,” I snarled, growing irritated.

  He eyed me from his seat, and I noticed his tongue poke into his cheek as he inhaled a long breath. “Sure looks like you do. What would’ve happened if I didn’t answer your call last night? Huh? What would you have done?”

  I shrugged, averting my eyes from him and playing with the sleeves of my shirt. “I would’ve figured it out,” I muttered.

  He scoffed. “By what? Sleeping outside in a pile of your own vomit? Or being taken advantage of by some creep?”

  “I get it. I promise to be more careful next time,” I said, exasperated. “So please, quit. My head is killing me.”

  His voice softened. “I’m not trying to be an asshole. I’m trying to protect you.”

  I understood. He felt like he needed to do that for my brother. “I’ll meet you here after school,” I replied, getting out of his truck and heading inside. He didn’t say another word or try to follow me. He stayed in his truck, his body still as he kept his eyes on me walking into the building.

  “Hey love, where did you run off to last night?” Reese asked, leaning against the locker next to mine. “I went looking for you.” He couldn’t have been looking that far because I was just out the front door, and the house was small.

  He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. His hair was a mess with curls poking out in every direction. His eyes were restless and still bloodshot from the night before, or from something he’d taken that morning. I wasn’t sure.

  “I had curfew,” I lied. My parents didn’t care where I went, what time I came home,
or what I did anymore. I could be missing for days, and they probably wouldn’t notice.

  “Curfew?” He raised a brow. “That sucks. You could’ve at least told me goodbye. You went to the bathroom and then disappeared. I missed you.”

  “Sorry, I was really tired and didn’t see you anywhere.” My brain throbbed as people began slamming their lockers shut and shouting down the hallway. Jesus, didn’t they know people were hung over around here?

  “Or you left with another guy?” he questioned, gazing at me with focus and catching me off guard. “Because that’s what I heard.”

  My mouth flew open. “My brother’s best friend picked me up,” I answered defensively, regaining my thoughts. “I didn’t feel comfortable driving.” And I was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, but I wasn’t about to explain myself to him.

  He let out a sharp breath. “You could’ve asked me, love. I would’ve given you a ride.”

  “You had more to drink than I did,” I pointed out.

  “True. But I have a tolerance level of an Irish man,” he said, pointing a finger at himself. “I’ve been drinking with my dad since I was nine.” I wasn’t sure if that was something to be proud of. “So what are you doing this weekend?”

  I grabbed a book from my locker. “Nothing.”

  “Hang out with me?” He held his hands together in a pleading gesture.

  “I’m busy this weekend.” By busy I meant I’d probably be sitting in my room or watching a movie with Derrick. Hanging out with Reese was a bad idea, especially since Dawson had suddenly decided he was going to play chaperone everywhere I went.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bullshit, you’re not going to be hiding out in your room all weekend on my watch, love.” His finger tapped the tip of my nose. “I want to turn that frown upside down. Let me take you out this weekend. I promise it’ll be something enjoyable.” He added a wink with a broad smile.

  “I’ll think about it,” I replied, already racking my brain for an excuse. He moved around my body and snatched my phone from the top shelf of my locker. “What are you doing?” I hissed, making a grab for my phone as he took a step back.

  He hit a few buttons, and I reminded myself to put a password lock on that thing. “I just called myself, so I know what number to look for tonight. If you’re bored and want to talk, just hit this number right here.” He held out my phone and pointed to his name on my screen. “And please, think about this weekend. I’ll make it a good one.” He handed me my phone and shot down the hallway while giving high fives to people as he walked by.

  I stumbled back in surprised when I noticed Daisy sitting in the cafeteria by herself and concentrating on a book in her hand. “Hey,” I said, dropping down into the seat next to her. “I looked for you yesterday and tried to call a few times.”

  Her brown eyes squinted over at me when she noticed I was there. It had been weeks since I’d seen her, and she looked in worse shape than me. Her raven black hair, looking like it hadn’t been washed in days, was pulled into a ratty bun at the top of her head. She was wearing one of Tanner’s old football sweatshirts that smelled like it hadn’t been washed in even longer.

  “I had a therapist appointment then ditched the rest of the day.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Those things are like freaking torture. There’s no way I can go through that and then come here, too.” She threw her arm out and gestured to the crowded room. “I told my parents it’s either therapy or school.”

  I was jealous. Her parents were there for her. They were forcing her to get help. I envied that. “Everyone here looks at me like I’m a total nut job,” she added, looking down at the table.

  “No they don’t,” I said, patting her arm. This conversation was more than we’d talked in months. We’d once told each other everything. We spent more nights together than we did alone. We’d planned on having a double wedding. We were going to have kids at the same time, and they’d be best friends.

  “Uh, yes they do. What would you think about a girl who breaks down and has an anxiety attack in the middle of class.” She covered her face with her hands and groaned out in agony. My brain scrambled, thinking back to last night when I’d had my own anxiety attack. Should I tell her? The old Tessa would’ve opened up about my own experience, but now it just seemed weird.

  I felt like I was talking to a stranger. On the day of Tanner’s funeral, I’d been strong for her. I took her hand, led her into the room, and held it throughout the entire service. I’d called her every day after his death until eventually she stopped picking up. She was my one true friend, the person with whom I could talk about things I couldn’t with Tanner, and she acted like I was nothing to her now. It was like she’d hit a button and all of her memories of us had been wiped from her brain. I missed her as much as I missed Tanner.

  “What the heck is wrong with me?” she asked, staring back at me in horror.

  I grabbed her hand and pretended not to notice her flinch at my touch. If Dawson hadn’t been there for me, I’d probably still be sitting on the sidewalk in front of my house. I was humiliated with just him, I couldn’t imagine going through it with a room full of teenage strangers.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. We’ve all been going through it,” I said, squeezing her hand. “It will get better.” She nodded, gradually pulling her hand out of mine without trying to make it obvious. “How about you come over tonight, and we can talk about things? We haven’t done that in forever, and I think we’re due for a girls’ night.”

  Her chapped lips formed a weak smile. “Sure, I’ll call you after school.” She hauled up from her chair. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “But lunch isn’t over yet,” I said quickly.

  “I know, but I’ve got to run to the nurse’s office. I feel like total crap, and I’m going to try to convince her to send me home.”

  I threw my utensils down onto my tray and started to get up. “I’ll come with you.”

  She shook her head and held her arms out to stop me. “No, it’s okay. I’ll call you after school.”

  “Please don’t forget to call me,” I pleaded. She nodded her head without turning around to say anything. I watched her walk out of the lunchroom, her bag tight in her hand, as she practically raced to the nurse’s office.

  I threw my bag onto the seat before jumping into Dawson’s truck and slamming the door shut. Grabbing it again, I shuffled through the compartments, pulled out my sunglasses from their case, and shoved them up my nose.

  “We should probably pick up your car first, drop my truck off at your house, and then pick up Derrick. Otherwise, he’ll know you were up to no good last night.”

  I put my hand against the window knob and cranked it until it went all the way down while fanning myself with my free hand. “Up to no good? What are you my dad?”

  “Not trying to be your dad, Tessa,” he replied, waiting on a few people to cross before pulling out of the parking lot. “But I am responsible for your well-being since Tanner is gone.”

  I groaned. “For the millionth time, I don’t need a babysitter.” I lifted the hair off the nape of my neck, pulled it into a ponytail, and pulled the elastic from around my wrist to hold it in place. “And are you ever going to get this damn air conditioning fixed? It’s like an oven in here.”

  “Probably not,” he replied, and I continued to fan myself. “And you do need a babysitter, considering you were the drunk girl who couldn’t walk and had no idea where she was. You know what happens to girls like that? They end up slaughtered somewhere in a ditch.”

  I rolled my eyes and stuck my head closer to the open window. “Spare me the Lifetime movie crap. It was a one-time thing. I was drinking wager-bombs and didn’t know those things were so brutal.”

  He scratched his cheek and looked at me. “I’m sorry, what were you drinking?”

  “A wager-bomb,” I confirmed. I glared at him as he burst out in laughter. “What the hell is so funny?”

  “Do you me
an Jagerbomb, babe?” he asked through his laughs.

  I paused for a moment and sighed. “Whatever it’s called. Jagerbomb, wager-bomb, same difference.”

  “Who the hell even gave you that shit? It tastes like turpentine.”

  I threw my hands up in the air. “Thank you! That’s exactly what I thought.”

  “You think something tastes like a harsh chemical, yet you still drink it?”

  “Nope, then I started taking shots.”

  His face went hard. “And that’s exactly why you’re not going to any more parties unsupervised. You get me? You’re naïve, Tessa.”

  “I’m not naïve,” I snarled, growing agitated. I was taking on a lot more responsibilities than most kids my age.

  “I’m not trying to be an asshole.” I gave him a look. “I swear, I’m not, but you grew up with a sheltered life with Tanner. We always looked out for you. You never saw any of the bad shit that can happen to girls who go out to parties and drink too much. You can’t go into unknown places or situations, drink shit you can’t even pronounce given to you someone you hardly know, and not expect something bad to happen.”

  “Something bad?”

  “You could’ve been drugged. Or raped. Or any of that shit.”

  He had a point. I was grateful he picked me up last night or I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done. We pulled up to the house from last night. “Especially in a place like this,” he said, nodding toward the old, rickety house. This time, there was no loud music, no people stumbling around the yard or drinking. There wasn’t a soul in sight. I grabbed my keys from my bag and jumped out of his truck.