by Beth Michele
The bowl of popcorn crashed to the floor, shattered, along with their innocence. Zoey fell to the ground at the same time a blood curdling scream left Evie’s mouth. I jumped off the couch and pulled her against me, a giant swell of panic flaring up in my chest. She was trying to speak but her words were choppy, tears flowing down her cheeks.
“M-m… D-d… no… no… it’s not true… it c-can’t be true.” She grabbed me hard and squeezed as more broken words came out. “N-not Mommy, D-Daddy,” she wailed, and I caught her in my arms before she fell to the carpet, hysterical. I rocked her back and forth, trying to make sense out of something that made no sense at all. It had to be a mistake.
But something else hit me with so much force I started trembling. She was supposed to be with them in that car. When the realization struck, I drew in a deep, shuddering breath and the tears wouldn’t stop falling.
A tractor-trailer slammed into her parents’ car, killing them instantly. I’ll never forget the pain in her eyes or how she tried to keep it together when grief and guilt overwhelmed her. She was supposed to be with them. It was a Tuesday night. Evie’s weekly date night with her mom and dad. Only at the last minute, she changed her mind and decided to stay back with us.
I remember.
She was wearing a light blue sweater that made her eyes sparkle, and a pair of jeans. Her mom opened the door and Evie looked back at Zoey and me on the sofa, smiling, and started taking off her jacket. ‘Are you sure, sweetheart?’ her mother asked as Evie hung her coat up in the closet and hurried back into the living room. Even now, a chill courses through me knowing I could have lost her that night, forever.
“Shhh… sweet girl… Shhh….”
Her fingers dig into my sleeves and she pulls back, pain etched deep in her features. “It’s all my fault. They wouldn’t have been in the car that night if it hadn’t been for me. We should have gone… together.”
“No, Evie,” I say adamantly, cradling her cheeks, forcing her eyes to meet mine. “It’s not your fault. And there was a reason you weren’t in that car with them. I know we’re not privy to that reason, but it wasn’t your time.” I rest my forehead against hers, heavy breaths whisk over my skin. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had died, Evie. You’re… everything to me.”
There’s a hitch in her breathing and I close my eyes, circling her nose with mine, completely lost in time. Forgetting where we are. Forgetting who we are. Just a boy who loves a girl, grateful that she’s alive. My lips lower involuntarily to the corner of her mouth and linger there, barely brushing her skin. Her head turns a fraction and we touch, her breath on my cheek, her heartbeat against mine. The need to feel her, to know she’s real, consumes me. In this moment, I realize that even if I can never make her mine, she’s here and that’s all that matters.
“Ahem.” The waitress appears and clears her throat, ending our moment. I release Evie and go back to my side of the booth, knowing in my heart that I belong on her side. I belong with Evie.
“Anything else I can get you two?” She places our food down with a scowl that doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I think we’re good. Evie?” I nod my chin at her as she dabs her face with a napkin and shakes her head. “We’re all set. Thanks.” Once she’s out of earshot, I shift back to Evie. “You okay, Hopper?” Her head lifts to reveal eyes laced with so much emotion: pain, sorrow, regret, and something else. Maybe gratitude?
“Thank you, Dylan.” She sniffs and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “I-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Boy, that was hard to admit, wasn’t it?” I tease with a grin. “Well, lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.” I wink and shove a French fry in my mouth, eliciting a faint but welcome smile from Evie.
We eat in silence but when I glance over at her, she’s picking at her burger and barely touching her milkshake. There’s a cloud hanging over her head that I desperately want to make disappear. The jukebox at the table gives me an idea and I know if anything can lift her spirits, music can. With renewed determination, I move to the end of the booth and flip the handle to run through the song choices as Evie looks up from her food.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, I’m checking out the tunes, I think we need some music. It’s a little too quiet around here,” I mutter, and she drops another fry on to the mound she’s constructing on her plate. “Hey, look at that, they have our senior prom theme.”
Evie and I went to our senior prom together. Neither of us had dates and we didn’t want to go alone. I was probably a consolation to her, but little did she know, she was my first choice.
“You’re kidding me?” she says, and I’ve finally got her attention.
“Nope.” I make a popping sound on the P and grin. “It’s time to take a walk down memory lane, sans the white silk dress.” I drop a couple of coins in and flick my eyes to hers just as “Mirrors” by Justin Timberlake begins to float around us. In one smooth motion, I slide from the booth and hold my hand out to her. “Dance with me.”
She glances over her shoulder and scans the diner before her gaze lands back on me, contemplating my crazy notion. “Here?”
“Hell yeah, here,” I reply, and that’s when I see the smile that brings me to my knees. She places her palm in mine and I help her stand. We lace our fingers together and her head falls to my shoulder, a soft sigh leaving her mouth.
It’s funny how happiness can be so simple.
“Just don’t step on my feet again,” I tease, as she lifts her head, her expression wild with nostalgia.
“Well, I’ll try, but you know I’m a bit of a clumsy dancer, Dills.” She laughs and goes back to resting against me as we sway to the sultry beat.
“Who picks a Justin Timberlake song for a prom theme anyway?” I ask quietly, speaking into her hair. “I mean, really.” I pause for a minute and her foot lands on mine. “Ow.”
“That was intentional,” she looks up, her lips squeezing together in a pout, “for dissing Justin Timberlake.”
I let out an exasperated sound and hear her muffled laugh. “Geez, first Jamie and now Justin Timberlake. What is it with you and guys with names beginning with the letter J?”
Maybe I need to change my name.
Before she can answer my question, I spin around and dip her low, her hair falling into a velvety drape beneath her, that sculptured neck taunting my lips. I can practically taste her, the vanilla dripping from her skin. She laughs loudly, drawing the attention of the few customers in the diner who begin clapping.
“We’ve got an audience, Hopper. Hold on tight,” I tell her, and then I place both my hands on either side of her waist and lift her in the air, twirling her around. The clapping grows louder and there’s even a whistle from one of the waitresses, just not ours.
I set Evie back down on her feet. Her cheeks are pink and her lips tip up into a happy smile. “Apparently you’re not that bad of a dancer after all.” I wink as we settle back into the booth. She begins to eat, finally regaining her appetite, a broad smile stretching her mouth.
My phone dings and I pull it from my back pocket, unlocking the screen to find a text from Jordan.
Hey. I’m staying at Jamie’s with the black-haired hottie. Call you in the a.m.
“Seriously,” I mumble, and Evie pauses with a fry between her lips, a question in her gaze.
“What is it?”
“It’s Jordan.” I type have fun before I tuck the phone back into my pocket. “He’s staying at Jamie’s tonight.”
Her eyes flare with the same shock that hit me. “At Jamie’s? Why would he do that?”
I take a sip of Evie’s shake, the cold an arctic blast to my throat. “He met someone there he wants to hang out with.”
“Wow,” she pauses before inhaling a big bite of her cheeseburger, “that’s so unlike him.” And she’s absolutely right. Jordan is nothing if not careful. He’s never been reckless, which means the girl must have special p
owers.
“She must be working her black magic on him,” I joke, snatching the ketchup from the end of the table and dousing my French fries.
“Oh,” Evie tosses me a wicked grin, “I’m sure she’s working her magic on him.” She throws a sweet potato fry at me and I fling one right back.
“Are you trying to start a food fight with me, Evie Carmichael? Because if I’m not mistaken, that didn’t end too well for you when we tried it with whipped cream in fifth grade.” Lifting a few French fries, I prepare to strike but stop when she yawns. “Come on. We can throw French fries another time. You’re tired. Let me take you home.”
BY THE TIME we make it back to the house, Evie has fallen asleep. The peaceful sound of her breathing fills the space between us. I cut the engine and turn to her. Long, delicate waves frame her face while lush, full lashes rest against her cheeks. A tiny smile curls her lips. The need to touch her overwhelms me, and I reach out to trace the line of her cheek with my thumb, causing her to stir. She doesn’t open her eyes until my lips find her forehead in a gentle kiss.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” I say quietly, as her eyes flutter open and she lets out a yawn.
“I guess I was tired.” She smiles, stretching both arms in front of her with a tiny groan.
“Yeah.” My thoughts wander to her mom and dad. “Hey, Evie.” I stare out the windshield, seeing nothing but her pain, the sting of it lancing through my heart. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Hey,” she tugs on the sleeve of my shirt, urging me to look at her, “what do you have to be sorry about?”
My eyes meet hers, anguish flowing out with my words. “I didn’t remember that today was the anniversary of your parents’ deaths,” I admit, a crushing void in my chest, the memories of that night still fresh in my mind.
“Oh, Dills,” she releases a heavy breath, “it’s okay. I didn’t want to say anything earlier.” She plays with the frayed edges of her jacket, wrapping loose threads around her fingers. “I was trying to be strong and keep it together. Honestly, that’s why I wanted to go to the party, to just have a distraction so I could try to forget. Even now, sometimes the guilt is overwhelming. Plus,” her voice lowers to a whisper, “I miss them so much.”
I shift my entire body to face her. She’s lost somewhere in the recesses of her mind and I’m trying to pull her back. Taking both her hands in mine, I find her eyes and hold her gaze. “You don’t have to be strong with me. Jesus, Evie, if there’s anyone on this planet you can let your guard down with, it’s me. I just… I don’t know how to make this better for you and I want to so desperately.”
“You did more than you realize tonight,” she says, and when her hand comes toward my face, I hold my breath. She cups my cheek in her palm and I’m still not breathing, only wanting to close my eyes and take in the warmth of her hand on my skin. “You are amazing, Dylan. I’ve never felt more cared about than I do when I’m with you. I thank God every day that you’re my best friend.” On that last word I let out a breath. Why do I suddenly hate that word? She drops her hand away from my cheek and replaces it with her lips. “Thank you, and now,” she says on another yawn, “I must go to sleep.”
There’s a chill in the air tonight when I walk her to the front door. She wraps her arms around herself, and as always, I have to resist the temptation to do that for her. It’s like someone is twisting a knife deep in my gut as I struggle to come to grips with the fact that we’re best friends and nothing more. After all, she could never look at someone like me any other way.
The lock clicks and she turns one last time before the screen door closes behind her. “Night, Dills.”
“Night, Hopper.”
I KICK THE sheets off as I toss and turn for the hundredth time. It’s too fucking hot in here and between the heat and the tick, tick, tick of my alarm clock, I’m slowly being driven insane.
The need for air overwhelms me, so I unlock the window and pull it open, the cool breeze slapping me in the face. I close my eyes and, of course, when I open them, I’m staring across the street at Evie’s darkened window. The real reason why I can’t sleep.
I scrub a hand over my face in an attempt to drag my eyes away from her room. I drop back on the mattress. Runaway thoughts pin me down, my limbs heavy. A cord hangs from the lamp on the bedside table, and I flick the switch then open the bottom drawer. There’s a white, lined pad and pen inside that I keep on-hand in case inspiration hits me.
With my back to the headboard, I bring my knees up and rest the pad against them, my thoughts drifting to Evie. I could write her something to tell her how I feel. My hand shakes as my pen hits the paper, my father’s fucked-up voice in my head. I close my eyes to center myself back on Evie and my lips twitch into a nostalgic smile. The only thing that comes to mind are little hands.
“Go on,” Jordan shoved me from behind, “go say hello. Mom said they just moved in and that girl seems like she’s around your age.”
It was drizzling and when I looked across the street, the girl was staring at the sky with her arms out to her sides, doing some kind of dance. I didn’t hear any music so I thought it was kind of weird. Girls were weird, anyway.
“Do I have to? I don’t really like girls that much.”
Jordan mumbled something that sounded like ‘you will someday’ before he scooted around me, picking up a fuzzy caterpillar from the ground. “Here.” He handed me the tiny creature and I stroked its soft fur as it crawled across my palm. “Give her this as a welcome to the neighborhood.”
“Okay.” I shrugged then took my new friend across the street.
“Hi,” I said, after looking both ways before crossing the road. The girl stopped spinning and just stared at me. She had these big black glasses on and she was very tiny.
“Hello,” she finally answered back in a high-pitched voice. I turned around to find Jordy sitting on our front stoop, watching me, and he gave me a thumbs up.
I stepped a little closer to her and giggled when the caterpillar tickled my hand. “Stop that,” I whispered to it.
“Who are you talking to?” She looked curiously at my fingers, her eyebrows smushed together. Below them she had eyes that were bluer than any crayon I had ever seen.
“Oh. Here. Open your hand up.” She did as I asked and we both watched as the critter crawled from my hand on to hers.
“Cool. He’s kind of cute. Thanks.”
“You have really small hands,” I said, tracking the little guy as it inched across her fingers.
She glanced from the caterpillar to me and rolled her pretty eyes. “Well, I’m six. And I’m a girl.”
“Yeah. Makes sense. So do you want to be friends or something?”
“I choose or something.” She giggled, and I laughed too. She was kind of funny.
“What’s your name, funny girl?”
“Evie.”
“I’m Dylan,” I said, and her eyes lit up.
“Dill like pickles?” She smiled, showing me her crooked teeth. “Dill pickles.”
“Now, that’s not funny.”
I chuckle to myself as I rub a hand across my chest, hoping to ease the ache inside. I hardly know where to begin. It’s like my heart is stuttering and can’t form the words. I let the pad and pen fall, tip my head back and close my eyes. But I’m unable to escape her. Not that I’d ever want to.
THE MATTRESS SHIFTS, startling me awake, and I grind a fist over my eye. Sunlight seeping in causes me to squint, and in my disoriented state, I can barely make out Jordy at the edge of the bed. A quick glance at the clock makes me wonder why he’s here. It’s only eight.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is gravelly from sleep and I clear my throat. “I was planning on picking you up. Do you want me to go to the diner?”
He rubs the light coating of stubble on his chin and when he turns to me, his eyes are red and bloodshot. I can only surmise that it’s the alcohol mixed with his late night romp with The Raven. “Samantha brought me home and Wanda’s at
the diner.”
“The Raven?” I joke, sitting up and covering my naked ass with the sheet.
Jordy grimaces and scratches his head. He looks like complete shit. “Who?” he asks, before it hits him and he laughs. “Oh yeah, The Raven… who by the way, is pretty amazing. So, listen,” he begins, his lips now set in a frown, all traces of amusement disappearing from his face. “I need to tell you something.”
I bolt up to a sitting position. Now my mind is buzzing and worry is taking over. The look on his face spells trouble. “What’s up? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he says quickly. “So… I was trying to find a bathroom this morning and that dude Jamie, um….” My spine stiffens at the sound of his name and I can tell whatever it is, I’m not gonna like it. “Well,” his voice drops, “I accidently walked in on him and this chick in bed, and let’s just say they weren’t sleeping.”
“Motherfucker!” I yell, throwing my hands up in the air. “I knew he was a total douchebag. God damn it! I’m gonna find that asshole and beat the shit out of him.” With a huge exhale, I try to rein in my temper when the only thing I want to do is put him ten feet in the ground. I knew Evie was way too good for him. He’s a total dickhead and he just proved it.
“What the fuck am I going to do?” I bring a hand to my head, attempting to weigh my options. “How am I going to tell her that? I don’t want to hurt her but she has to know he’s a total scumbag.”
He pats my knee and gets up from the bed. “I don’t know, man. I don’t envy you.”
I don’t envy me either.
I’M STANDING IN front of Evie’s door and my mind is whizzing a hundred miles an hour. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, but the thought of that bastard putting his hands on her and then on some other chick churns my stomach. It makes me see so much red I want to wring his neck. There’s no way I’m going to let him hurt her.
