Hurt: A Novel (Solitary Tales Series)

by Thrasher, Travis

  “I gotta talk with you” is the third one.

  But no. Kelsey is done.

  And for the moment, I resort back to seventeen senioritis.

  If someone wants to complain, fine, fill my shoes and see what you’d do.

  I told her to wait, and she waited.

  I told her to trust me, and she was trusting me, right?

  Even as she managed to slowly sink away, I didn’t think it would really happen. I didn’t think I was really going to lose her. We were both going with the flow and acting the part, but somehow I think the part grabbed her.

  So did big and tall and handsome Lance. What a big dumb lug.

  But Poe coming and then that moment and Kelsey seeing … it felt like it was all part of the grand plan. As if someone planned it so that Kelsey would see and finally say enough.

  But then I decide to ask around. I come back to planet Harrington and I ask Harris if he knows what’s up with Lance and prom, and Harris gets the scoop.

  Yes, Kelsey is going with Lance.

  I guess my drama—my life and death drama—isn’t going to get in the way of a girl going to prom. Heaven—or hell—forbid.

  When I hear this, it seems that something gets cracked and broken. All of a sudden I need to reach out and try to convince Kelsey of what’s happening and what I’m doing. I’m not avoiding her because I want to or because I want Poe or because of anything other than the desire to save her life.

  I mean—that’s heroic, right?

  Let’s see Lance do that.

  My attempts to reach out to her go unnoticed. Or unwanted. It’s some kind of un-thing that’s making me come undone. So eventually I go to Georgia and ask her what’s the deal.

  “What’s your deal?” Georgia bites back.

  “Is she really going to prom with Lance?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “But I just—I don’t get it.”

  “You know—I don’t get it.” Georgia looks like a pit bull ready to bite.

  “What don’t you get?”

  “You? You—Mr. Chris Buckley ooh ahh.”

  The added bit on my name makes me laugh in disbelief. “Okay.”

  “No, I really don’t get it,” she says. “I don’t get what these girls see. I mean—you come in and you have Jocelyn—Jocelyn—and her friend Poe all aflutter and gaga. And yes, of course, Kelsey too. Little old Kelsey who you keep ignoring and keep overlooking and keep breaking.”

  “Stop being dramatic.”

  “Oh, I haven’t even started.”

  “Really?”

  I’ve never wanted to strangle a girl, but suddenly I want to, here and now.

  “I don’t get it. I just don’t. Guys like Lance, sure. But you, I don’t get.”

  I stare at Georgia for a moment. I swear her nose has suddenly turned up and she’s looking a bit like Miss Piggy.

  “I don’t get it either,” I say. “I’ve never claimed to, okay? But there’s a lot—no, pretty much everything between Kelsey and me is something you don’t know about. You don’t understand.”

  “You’re a jerk.”

  “Yeah, maybe I am. But Kelsey likes this jerk and has for quite a while, and for some reason, she doesn’t think I’m one. And the only thing—the only thing that matters now in this place is that girl. That she ends up being okay.”

  “Oh, she’s going to be okay,” Georgia says in a way I don’t like. “She’s going to be fine.”

  I’ve always found something to like about girls. But I’ve never found anything to like about their friends.

  99. No Light, No Light

  I hear gunshots going off in my gut, round after round ripping through me.

  I see my stomach bleeding and my soul leaking out, and I realize this is all something I did myself.

  I’m not sure I can do this without you, Kelsey.

  It seems you’ve been here from the beginning.

  In the darkest hour you were there, painting away the light. The grays I smeared on the screen were eclipsed by the blues in your eyes.

  You made me feel again.

  You chased after me.

  You kept coming time after time. You never gave up even when you didn’t know if I had any hope.

  And now with the night coming to an end and the dark, deep jaws of the wolf starting to close around my throat I know this one thing.

  I’ll do anything to make you stay in my life.

  I’ll do anything to make you continue to love me.

  I want to see the twentysomething version of you turn into the thirty and forty and fifty version.

  I can’t do this thing without you.

  I don’t want the grays to come back.

  I don’t want that dreary field. I want your light wheat swaying back and forth under a clear and steady sky.

  I’m afraid the lights are going to go out.

  I need a revelation to show me now tonight what to do and where to go and how to do it.

  Don’t give up on me.

  Don’t leave me.

  Don’t take your light and go somewhere else.

  Not now and not tonight.

  100. Sæglópur (Do You Understand?)

  The next day I get past glaring Georgia and towering Lance to talk to Kelsey.

  I take her hands in mine.

  “Listen to me—Kelsey, please. Look at me.”

  Her wide eyes are already starting to tear up.

  Yes you hurt her but not because you wanted to or because you messed up but because this place made it happen.

  “I want you to come with me.”

  She shakes her head, looking confused. Lance is nearby and says something, and I look at him. And I don’t know. I’m not an intimidating sort of guy, but I think I might have the tendency if moved enough to look absolutely bonkers—like I do now. Enough to make the guy just look at me with a bit of reluctance.

  “Please, just—please.”

  I tug her and don’t feel resistance.

  I keep tugging and lead her down the hallway.

  I see Mr. Meiners staring at us from the doorway of his room.

  I see Miss Harking pass us by with her dull glance.

  I see Brick outside smoking and nodding.

  I lead Kelsey down to my bike, and then I hop on.

  “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I start up the motorcycle, and I guess it works. There was no grand plan. No wanting to look all studly and manly on my bike.

  I’m just wanting to escape.

  I feel her arms wrap around my chest.

  “Hang on,” I shout out.

  Then I drive. And I keep driving. And I lead us far away from this place just because it feels right and because I want to dream and want to hope that there is a place outside of this one that can belong to us.

  I feel her rigid arms around me, but ten minutes in, Kelsey seems to relax.

  Or maybe relent.

  She gives in as she clutches me tighter.

  Then she really holds on to me, not in a way someone riding passenger on a bike might but the way someone needing to hold another might.

  “Don’t give up on me, Kelsey.”

  We could be anywhere. It doesn’t really matter.

  A high school gym or library or bathroom or hallway. A park or a parking lot or a national park.

  It doesn’t matter.

  The girl in front of me matters. The girl shaking her head and not saying anything.

  “Go to prom with me.”

  “What?”

  “I messed up when I didn’t ask you last year. When I didn’t walk you home after our dan
ce. I told myself that wasn’t going to happen again, and look what’s happening.”

  She shakes her head, wiping away more tears.

  “I’m sorry, Kelsey.”

  “What’s going on with you?”

  My mouth starts to move, but I don’t say anything.

  “See,” Kelsey says. “That’s what always happens.”

  “I don’t want you dying,” I blurt out in a frustrated, awkward way.

  “What—what are you talking about?”

  “They took Jocelyn away and they managed to take Lily away and I don’t want them taking you away.”

  “Who? What?”

  We’re at a rest stop off the highway, and nobody is near the bench we’re sitting on.

  “Staunch and Pastor Marsh. These men are part of an evil cult, one that’s run by my great-grandfather. They want me—and they’re willing to kill anybody—anybody—in order to get me.”

  “But why?”

  “Because they think I’m special and I have some crazy powers and I don’t know …”

  Kelsey stares at me.

  “I know—ludicrous, right? I could keep going, but it would just keep getting more and more crazy. And I don’t want you to give me goofy looks.”

  “I’m not giving you any kind of look.”

  “Go to prom with me,” I say as I take her hands.

  “I’m already—”

  “Lance? Really? Kelsey—really?”

  She looks down, almost ashamed.

  “Do you really like him? I mean—if I thought you really wanted to go with him, then I wouldn’t be here. But I get this feeling that deep down inside you really kinda want me to—”

  She interrupts me with a kiss. I put both my hands on her slender, soft face and kiss her back.

  After a few moments, Kelsey pushes me away.

  “How does stupid prom have anything to do with what’s going on with you?” she asks. “Is that why I’m in danger?”

  “They don’t want me to be with you.”

  “Why? I don’t get it.”

  “Because they don’t like your faith and your influence. They think that—they think that somehow you’re going to …”

  “What?”

  “This all sounds so ridiculous.”

  “What?” Kelsey asks. “Prom?”

  “This whole discussion of—listen—I just want you to know that I think that I kinda love you, if that even makes sense.”

  Kelsey acts like she was just sideswiped by a train.

  “I know it makes no sense to hear that, but I do. I mean, I think I do.” I can tell I’m babbling, but I keep on. “And if I have to tell you that and take you to prom to prove it, then fine, but then you have to promise me—you have to understand that you have to stay away from me.”

  She looks up at me in a relieved, happy way.

  “Do you understand?” I ask her.

  “No.” But then she kisses me in a way that says she maybe doesn’t care.

  And I kiss her back in that same sort of way.

  Maybe all the evil-people-out-there stuff doesn’t make sense, but this right here does make sense. And it feels like this can overcome anything and can destroy anyone trying to break it.

  This love feels right even if everything else around us feels wrong.

  “So am I going to have to beat up Lance or something to get you to be my prom date?” I ask her.

  “No,” Kelsey says. “All you had to do was ask. That’s all you’ve ever had to do.”

  101. End Theme

  The initial days after my conversation and prom proposal to Kelsey seem to tiptoe away like a thief leaving the scene of the crime. Soon I’m stepping with ease and not worried as much. I keep thinking about what she said.

  How does stupid prom have anything to do with what’s going on with you?

  And she’s right. It’s stupid prom.

  It’s a stupid Romeo-and-Juliet-themed prom.

  Nobody’s going to care if I go with her.

  I hear Marsh’s smug, threatening voice.

  Do you want her to end up like Jocelyn or Lily? Do you?

  But I’m not doing anything; it’s just a dance.

  End things with Kelsey, or Staunch will end things his way. Staunch will find a way if he wants to make it happen.

  And I’m fine, I’m really fine until the night before prom when I can’t sleep and I Google Romeo and Juliet since I didn’t really pay much attention when we studied it in class.

  Tragedy is the first word I see.

  Teenage lovers.

  Balcony scene.

  Vow to be married.

  Executed.

  Murder.

  Deathlike coma.

  Poison.

  Stabs herself with a dagger.

  Children’s deaths.

  Elegy.

  And after reading this wonderful synopsis on Wikipedia I really miss the eighties theme of last year.

  The school knows. They’re just preparing me for the ultimate end.

  One last dance will soon turn into one last day and one last breath.

  102. The Most Beautiful Song on Your Playlist

  The dark weather goes away for a while, leaving the skies clear and the wind calm for the big night.

  Leaving the ocean ready to sweep into the hallway where I’m waiting and ready to blush when I see Kelsey.

  She comes in wearing a strapless, flowing light blue dress that makes me nervous to examine too carefully. Her hair is up, her eyes bright and matching her dress, her smile all made up and adult.

  “Ready?”

  She seems calm, but I’m not calm.

  Driving in my mom’s car to Georgia’s house, I’m not calm. Even when Kelsey holds my hand.

  One might think I’m nervous because of what this might mean and about the warnings, but those have gone away. I’m nervous because Kelsey is no longer this cute girl I’m interested in.

  She hasn’t been that cute girl since last year.

  This is taking it to a whole new level. She truly is a seventeen-year-old who looks like a twenty-four-year-old.

  Made up and ready to take on the world.

  “Your hand is sweaty,” she says.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re nervous.”

  “Yeah.”

  She leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be.”

  “Okay.”

  But I stay nervous for a while.

  The whole Romeo and Juliet thing doesn’t make my anxiety go away. Everything seems to point toward one thing.

  Death.

  The decorations; the displays, including a whole balcony setup; the colors and the lighting … they all seem to share the gloom and doom. The songs played are not typical prom songs. They all carry a theme as well. Themes of love and loss.

  But through all this, there is Kelsey. Smiling, glowing, happy.

  Happy.

  Now there’s a wonderful thing that I never want to see go away.

  This light happiness that is as clear and pure as the color of her dress or her eyes.

  We never leave each other that night except for brief bathroom breaks. We forget there are even others in the room. There’s no drama, no teenage angst or spirit thing going on. There’s just Kelsey and me.

  When the final song begins to play, we slow dance again and for a brief moment look into each other’s eyes.

  Imagine the most beautiful song on your playlist. This is what is playing.

  The lyrics, written by someone I will never meet in my life, don’t mean a thing.

  The melody, created by someone more talented than I will ever be, doesn’t matt
er.

  For the moment, this last song of the night doesn’t matter. The girl in my arms does.

  We hold each other, and I find myself thinking a prayer that I hope will forever be answered.

  Don’t let this girl leave my world, God. Don’t let her go.

  We sway to the sweet song, and I hope and pray that Kelsey will always be there. Regardless of what happens tonight and tomorrow and the thirty thousand days afterward.

  103. Now We Are Free

  You know that feeling you have when you think something’s about to happen, but it hasn’t happened just yet? That feeling you get, like a silent buzz going off all around you? If you were a superhero it would be your Spidey sense, but unfortunately you’re not exactly a hero and you’re really not super.

  But you are ready.

  Ready to take on the world, right?

  That’s what the guy speaking to all you graduates is talking about. You’re thankful it’s not Pastor Marsh. That’s the absolute last thing you’d need right now: a motivational speech by that guy. Yet in your cap and gown, as you sit on a chair, not really paying attention to the Mr. Believe-in-Your-Dreams guy, you have a feeling that Marsh is somewhere behind you. You know Staunch is, because Gus is graduating. Staunch and Marsh are probably sitting together, playing hangman on the graduation brochure.

  The letters spell out CHRISTOPHER BUCKLEY.

  The man talking about following your dreams doesn’t get that you want to get far, far away from your dreams. Because people die and get suffocated in your dreams. Nope, no dreams for you.

  You glance back and see her, the lighthouse that never shuts off in this foggy sea. She catches you looking back and shines a smile your way.

  It reminds you that so far, everything is good.

  It’s May 19, and so far, everything is fine.

  You haven’t decided what college to go to and you haven’t sold your soul to the Devil.

  So far so good.

  Your mom is sitting behind you too, waiting to see you walk across the small stage in this gym, the same gym you had prom in a week earlier. Your name will be called, and you’ll receive a piece of paper that tells you you’re finally free. Dad couldn’t be here, and it’s okay because this isn’t the important event he needs to be at.

  Dad needs to be there when you and Mom get back home.