Aspen

by Rebekah Crane

  Suzy and I hoist the bike into the back of her car, and I climb in the front seat.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “What are friends for?” She turns up the heat so it’s blasting our faces. It melts my frozen nose. “Where to?”

  “Shakedown Street.”

  We drive toward Pearl Street, both of us quiet. Suzy taps out the beat of the song playing on the radio and bobs her head. Big sunglasses cover her eyes. I watch her.

  “Why are you friends with me?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “You didn’t talk to me once last year.”

  “I didn’t know you.”

  “But what made you want to get to know me?”

  Suzy’s easy demeanor shifts. She sits up straighter in the seat, eyes glued to the road. “Because I felt bad for you,” she says.

  I exhale but can’t respond. The truth sits on me.

  When Suzy stops at a red light, she turns to me and says, “Aspen, what is it? What’s going on?”

  The air in the car is thick. Too thick. It’s getting caught in my throat.

  “I just . . . I . . . ”

  Suzy’s eyes are wide. “Do you not want to be friends anymore?” The words sound like they hurt coming out of her mouth. Her bottom lip starts to tremble.

  “No.” I say. “I just need some fresh air. I’ll ride my bike from here.” I jump out and grab my bike from the back.

  “You’d tell me if something were wrong, right?” Suzy says through the rolled down car window. I nod and ride down the street as fast as I can, never looking back.

  By the time I get to Shakedown Street, my entire body aches. I squat and rest my head against my knees, pressing on my forehead.

  Mickey walks out of the back room, clipboard in hand, and says, “You look tired. Go home.”

  I stand up, a little wobbly on my feet. “I’m fine.”

  He points his pencil at me. “No, you’re not. I can tell. Go home.”

  “Just leave me alone,” I bark.

  Mickey’s face freezes. Even I freeze. I can’t believe I just snapped at my boss. The man who’s given my mom the only job she’s managed to maintain in my entire life.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  Mickey walks over and grabs my shoulders. “Go home, Aspen. Get some sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  I grit my teeth. Get some sleep. But even when I get home, I can’t close my eyes. Keeping them open doesn’t help the pain either. I down three Advil and wait. They don’t help. I chug seven glasses of water. My head still hurts. I open Ninny’s pot stash. And then I close it.

  When I hear Ninny and a muffled male voice walk into the house giggling, I lock my bedroom door. At least Ninny’s laughing. That’s a good sign.

  I log on to Facebook. Olivia has posted a video of Katelyn. The caption reads, “I found this today and can’t stop crying. I miss you, K!” I hold the mouse over the play button, but don’t click on it. Over a hundred people have liked the video. And there are thirty-seven comments. I turn off the computer screen.

  I walk around my room for an hour. Then I clean my closet so all my clothes are hung up and color coordinated. Then I rearrange the entire Grove, trying to get rid of the empty spaces. No matter what I do, they’re still there.

  I finally click on the video. When Katelyn comes on screen, I hold my breath.

  “What do you want to do when you’re older?” Olivia’s voice comes through speaker.

  Katelyn shrugs. She’s sitting in the middle of the soccer field in her uniform. The sun makes her eyes extra blue.

  “Come on, this is for posterity,” Olivia presses.

  Katelyn runs her hands through her hair. “I don’t want to get older,” she says.

  I choke at the sound of her voice. Seconds pass by as the video plays on. I try to stop it.

  “Damn it.” I click on the stop button. Katelyn freezes on my screen. I shut the computer down. The screen goes black.

  “Aspen, baby, what are you doing?” Ninny walks out of her bedroom in her pajamas. I don’t know what time it is. Darkness.

  “I’m watching TV,” I say.

  “Baby.” Ninny touches my shoulder. “The TV isn’t on.”

  But there is a voice in the room. And she won’t stop talking.

  “I want to see a hypnotist,” I say to Kim at my locker the next day. My foot taps on the ground. I started drinking coffee at five in the morning when I realized I wouldn’t sleep at all.

  “Okay.” Kim’s face gets a surprised look. “What’s going on?”

  “Will you come with me?” I pull on my hair. My head is numb. “Today. I need to go today.”

  Kim’s face goes from surprised to flabbergasted. “Okay. I’ll find someone.” She looks up a person on her phone and calls. “She has an appointment this afternoon at four.” I nod my head repeatedly. After Kim hangs up, she says, “I’ll get Uma’s car at lunch and drive you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll meet you here later.” I walk out of school. I need some more coffee.

  Sky’s hypnotism office is worse than Dr. Brenda’s. It’s actually a living room with seven cathouses and crystals hanging from the windows, sending glistening prisms all over the furniture. Kim and I sit on an old leather couch as new age yoga music plays over a small stereo tucked in the corner. The room smells like cat food and pot.

  “Which one of you is Aspen?” Sky says in that hippie-kind-of voice, slow and slurred. Most likely she just ripped a bong hit. She’s wearing a flowing brown dress down to her ankles and about seven silver necklaces that jangle when she moves. I raise my hand.

  “I’m just the best friend,” Kim offers.

  “A best friend is never just anything.” Sky smiles and pets one of the cats. “So what can I do for you today, Aspen?”

  “I’m having trouble sleeping.”

  Sky nods, looking at my jittery hands. “Let’s go back into my office.” When Kim gets up to move with us, Sky stops her. “You can wait out here, best friend. Aspen will be fine.” Sky winks at Kim, who slumps back on the couch.

  “I’ll be here when you’re done,” Kim says.

  We enter the back of Sky’s house through a set of large wooden doors that slide closed. Sky motions for me to sit in an antique armchair as she pulls up an ottoman covered by a colorful tapestry. I wipe the cat hair off the chair before sitting down.

  “So you can’t sleep,” Sky repeats. She pats my hand in a motherly way. “You know, Aspen, the only way to get out of the forest is to go through it.”

  “Okay.” My voice wobbles.

  Sky takes off one of her seven necklaces. “Lean back, love. Get comfortable.” I wiggle down in the seat and rest my head back. “Now, I want you to focus on this necklace. Clear your head of everything and just look at my pretty necklace.”

  A silver ball hangs from the end. Almost like a sleigh bell. I stare hard at the rounded edges. I focus on the way it moves in Sky’s hand, back and forth.

  “I’m going to start counting,” she says, “Ten, nine, eight . . . ”

  But I block Sky out. All my attention is on that ball. How it hangs in the air, moving through invisible energy.

  “Mickey, I’m out of here,” I say, placing my dirty rag in the laundry bin. The tables in Shakedown Street gleam. “Don’t forget the lights,” I say.

  Mickey pops out to the front of the shop. “I don’t need to be reminded how to close my own damn store.” I cock my head at him. “Get out of here. Enjoy your youth while you have it.”

  I walk into the back alley, where my car is parked, and check my phone: one text message on the screen. It’s from Kim.

  R u coming over?

  I don’t respond. I need a moment. Just one moment to myself. The warm summer air blows lightly as I roll down the windows of my Rabbit. When I pull away from Shakedown Street, Mickey walks out.

  “The lights,” I yell out the window. He scowls and stomps back into the shop.

  I head west up my favorite ro
ad—it winds out of Boulder and into the mountains towards the small town of Nederland. Within a few miles, traffic and congestion disappear. All that I can hear is wind howling down the canyon. I rest my head back against the seat and turn up the Grateful Dead song playing on the stereo.

  As I get higher up the mountain and my phone rings. Another text message. I grab the phone and glance down at the screen. It’s from Kim again.

  Where the fuck r u?

  I laugh. God, she loves the word “fuck.” But then my laugh fades. Soon, I won’t be able to hear her swear like a sailor. I won’t have my best friend in the same town as me. Kim and Cass will be off at college in less than a year.

  I turn the car and make my way back down the mountain, anxious. We’re seniors. Seniors. It’s our final year together. I press down on the gas and grab my phone to text her back.

  The road is darker now. Twilight is hanging over the mountains. I lift my foot from the gas pedal and let my Rabbit coast. I know this part of the drive, how the road will curve to the left next to a large aspen grove that sits just down the embankment. I’m almost back to town. Looking down at my phone as my car winds around the curve, I text Kim.

  It only takes a moment for my body to sense the mistake I’ve made. Like the zing of static before someone gets shocked. But once it happens, it’s too late.

  I look up at the road as two headlights blind me, blurring my vision. There isn’t time to swerve. There’s barely time to slam on the brakes, but I do it instinctively.

  Blackness comes first. For a moment, I wonder if it really happened. Like waking up from a realistic dream, and you’re not sure what to believe anymore. But the light comes eventually, making everything illuminated and so real. I’m begging for this to be a dream.

  I open the door and crawl out of the car. My leg hurts, a burning sensation down to my bone—or what’s left of my bone. I wipe my forehead with my arm. Red stains my skin, and a metallic smell fills my nose. The hood of my car is still hot to the touch. It burns my fingers.

  And then I see her, brown hair splayed out on the pavement, her face down toward the ground. And blood. There’s blood everywhere.

  I throw up. It isn’t the right thing to do and I know it, but the shake Mickey let me make for dinner just comes spewing out of me. It hurts my chest.

  I crawl through the mess of glass around me. It looks like rain on the pavement. My leg hurts, but her leg looks even worse. It’s bent out to the side in a backwards L. I try to remember what Mrs. Andrews said in health about moving someone who might have a spinal injury, but my mind is blank.

  “Oh, my God,” I whisper, rolling her over. Her hair falls back from her face as I cup her cheeks in my palms. Like my car, she’s still hot.

  Blue eyes look up at me. I know this girl. Everyone knows this girl. She blinks.

  “Aspen?” Katelyn Ryan says. “I’m so sorry.”

  That’s when I start screaming.

  CHAPTER 28

  I come to in Sky’s office. She’s frozen in front of me. My head hurts; it’s like my scar has reopened and is bleeding all over again.

  “Aspen, I think—” Sky starts to say, but I don’t let her finish. My entire body shakes. It rattles me down to my bones. I can’t stand being in my own skin. I need to take it off of me.

  I run out of Sky’s office in a panic. Kim sees the look on my face and goes white.

  “She was alive,” I whisper.

  “What?”

  “Katelyn was alive,” I say louder.

  The weight of what I’ve said hits Kim and she grabs me. “What do you need?”

  “I need you to take me to Ben’s.”

  Kim begs to come inside with me, but I refuse. I watch her drive down the street and disappear around the corner. Then I bang on Ben’s front door like a madwoman. I’ll bang until my fists bleed if he doesn’t answer.

  When Ben answers, he looks surprised.

  “What’s going on?” Ben looks around like someone’s chasing me. “Aspen, what is it?”

  “She spoke to me,” I blurt out.

  “What?”

  “Katelyn,” I say.

  Ben grabs my hand and pulls me through his house into his room. Everything blurs around me. He sets me down on his bed. But I feel like I’m floating.

  “What did she say?” Ben’s voice shakes.

  My mouth is dry. “She said she was sorry.” The words come out as light as air.

  Ben stumbles back from me and almost falls over. He catches himself on the desk and starts to pace the room. “It’s impossible,” I say.

  “What?” Ben bites his nails. I’ve never seen him do that before.

  And then it’s like I’m out of my body. Seeing things I’ve never seen before.

  “I was texting. The accident was my fault,” I say.

  Ben hands fall to his sides and he comes to sit in front of me. He wipes tears from my cheeks with the fingers he was just biting. I didn’t know I was crying.

  “No, Aspen. The accident wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it was. I was texting.” I say it again and finally feel the tears in my eyes.

  “No,” Ben grabs my face and holds his eyes to mine. “Katelyn killed herself.”

  CHAPTER 29

  The world stops spinning. The air holds no breeze, no oxygen, no energy. I stand up out of Ben’s grasp. Blood drains from my face, all the way down to my toes.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Aspen.” Ben moves towards me, but I step to the side.

  “That isn’t true.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He goes to grab my arm, but I yank it away.

  “No. It was my fault.”

  “It couldn’t have been,” he says.

  “How do you know?”

  “Katelyn wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, Aspen.”

  “So what? People make mistakes all the time.”

  Ben looks at his hands. “She told me what she was going to do.”

  “What?” I yell the word.

  “Please, Aspen, let me explain.” Ben reaches for me again, but I dodge his move. “Katelyn was depressed. She needed help. It got so bad that Suzy and I confronted her parents.”

  My head splits open in pain. Black spots speckle my vision.

  “Katelyn came over the night of the accident totally crazed. She found out that I gave her mom an ultimatum: Either she get Katelyn help or I would. Katelyn was beyond pissed. She was manic. She scared the shit out of Sam, throwing things and screaming about how Suzy and I betrayed her. I swear, I meant to help. But Katelyn was convinced I was out to ruin her. She said that she’d rather kill herself than be sent away to some psych ward. You should have seen the look on Sam’s face. I’ve never seen her so scared. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “What did you do?”

  Ben’s head falls to his chest. “I kicked her out.”

  “You kicked Katelyn out.”

  He grabs my hand. “If I thought she’d really go through with it, I never would have let her go, I swear. I thought she was just being dramatic. But when Suzy showed me the text message she got right before the accident, I knew I’d made a huge mistake. The biggest mistake of my life.”

  “Suzy got a text from Katelyn that night,” I say, barely feeling the words on my lips. Ben nods slowly. “What did the text say?”

  “Please don’t make me repeat it.”

  “What did the text say?” My voice gets louder.

  Ben’s eyes focus on his lap. His voice shakes as he says, “I’m going to hit the next thing I see. I hope you’re happy.” He grasps at me, pulling me toward him like I’m his breath and he can’t bear to let go. “I’ll never forgive myself for kicking her out. Please, you have to believe me.” He kisses my face and my neck and my hands. But I’m numb. Completely numb.

  “I was the next thing she saw,” I whisper. My knees give out. Ben catches me before I hit the ground. He sets me down on the bed.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Ben says it
over and over.

  “Don’t say those words.”

  And then it starts to burn. A fire rages up my limbs and into my chest and all the way to the top of my head, where the blood poured down my cheeks and mixed with hers and I thought it was all my fault. I hear the skid of the tires, the crushing sound of metal. And the screams. Like the howling wind that grows until it’s the piercing shriek of life obliterated. I pinch my eyes closed. Ben grabs my hand.

  “Please. Talk to me,” he pleads. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t say those words.”

  When I open my eyes, she’s there. In Ben’s room. And for the first time, I see Katelyn for who she was. All the blank spaces filled.

  “Go away,” I say to her.

  But she just stands in the corner of Ben’s room, screaming.

  “I’m not leaving you,” Ben says frantically.

  “I hate you!” I yell at Katelyn. “I hate you!” I run out of his room. Ben tries to stop me, but I wiggle out of his arms. I take off down the street. My leg hurts like it’s broken again. I feel the impact of the steering wheel crushing my chest and my head. I stumble and almost fall into the road. A car horn sounds.

  And the blood. On my hands. On my clothes. It’s on my clothes.

  I burst in the front door of my house covered in blood. I trip up the stairs to my room.

  I have Katelyn’s blood on me. I need to get it off.

  She stands in front of me, her voice so loud in my ears, I can’t hear anything else.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a damn pencil!” I scream.

  Angry, I go to my desk and grab my sketchpad. The noise won’t stop. And I need it to stop. Like I need air.

  I stare Katelyn in the face. I look into her blue eyes and see her on the ground that night. My hand moves on the paper. I feel her hair in my hands. And the crunch of glass on my knees as I knelt beside her. My arm is tired, but my hand doesn’t stop moving on the paper. I feel the gurney they strapped me to and how fast the ambulance drove back to town. I feel Kim’s hands in my hair, rinsing the blood away.