If There's No Tomorrow

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Every muscle in my body tensed. Dull pain flared across my ribs. “I...I told Mom I didn’t want to see anyone.”

  “I know you did.” Sebastian leaned forward, gripping his knees. “Why?”

  “Why?” I repeated, incredulous.

  “How could you even think for one second that I would not come here the moment I could? Abbi and Dary might back off, but there is no way in hell that, after what happened, I wouldn’t be here.” He scooted to the edge of the chair. “I wanted—no, I needed—to see you for myself, to prove that you really were alive. That you’re going to be okay.”

  My pulse started racing. “You know that I’m okay. I’m the only person who is okay.”

  “Okay?” His face contorted and then smoothed out. “You didn’t stub your toe, Lena. Both of your lungs collapsed. Your arm is broken. You look like hell and you—” His voice cracked. “You could’ve died. Instead of going to the funeral of a girl I’ve known for years today, I could’ve been going to your funeral.”

  That shut me up.

  “I watched one of my friends be buried today. Tomorrow I will watch them bury one of my best friends,” he continued, his voice thick and lips thinning out. “On Sunday, I will see yet another one of my friends buried. Within three days, I will have watched four of my friends be buried.”

  Oh God.

  “I will never listen to Megan again and try to figure out what the hell she’s ranting about,” he said, and my throat constricted. “I will never listen to Cody giving me crap about playing ball. I won’t ever sit in class and watch Chris cheat on his exams, wondering how he never gets caught. I won’t get to chill with Phillip and play ‘Madden’ again.” His voice shook, and I wanted him to stop. “I never got to say goodbye to any of them Saturday. I didn’t get to say goodbye to you that night.”

  Oh God.

  “You know what? Losing them is something I cannot even process right now. Hell if I ever will be able to. But losing you?” His back straightened and his jaw flexed. “I would never get over that.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I breathed around the razor-edged knot in my throat. “I can’t do this.”

  “Do what?” he asked.

  “You...” I sucked in a sharp breath. “What happened, it’s...it’s my fault.”

  “What?” He sounded astonished. Dear God, he actually was shocked. “You weren’t the one driving, Lena. You didn’t get behind that wheel drunk.”

  “That doesn’t...matter,” I whispered back.

  “Lena—”

  “You don’t get it.” I lifted my good arm, placing my hand over my eyes. I didn’t want to cry in front of him. I didn’t want to cry again. “I don’t...want to talk anymore.”

  A couple of moments passed and he said, “We don’t have to.”

  I squirmed restlessly. Something was building inside me. Something ugly and messy and too raw, too powerful. “Can you just leave?” I asked, begged really. “Please?”

  His gaze held mine for a moment and then he stood, and I wanted to sink through the bed, sink down into nothing.

  Sebastian didn’t leave, though.

  He wasn’t my father.

  He wasn’t me.

  Grabbing the chair, he picked it up and planted it right by the top of my bed and then he sat down. My heart pounded. He rested his right arm on the bed beside mine and then leaned over, stretching his left arm so his fingers caught the limp strands of my hair, brushing them back from my face as he said, “I’m not leaving. You can get mad. You can get upset, but I’m staying right here, because whether you realize it or not, you shouldn’t be alone. I’m not going anywhere.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sebastian stayed even though we didn’t talk. He’d turned on the TV and he watched the news. I didn’t look at him, but every so often, I could feel his gaze on me. I waited for him to say something, to ask questions, but he didn’t. And he was there when the nurses came into the room and forced me out of the bed to walk.

  Horrified that he was about to witness the absolute struggle it was to get out of bed only to moon whoever was in the room, I locked up when the nurse helped me sit up.

  A frown creased the nurse’s brow when I didn’t budge. “Are you in pain?”

  Mouth clamped shut, I quickly shook my head. I could feel Sebastian’s gaze boring holes into my back.

  The nurse seemed to know what the holdup was. “Do you mind going to the nurses’ station down the hall and grabbing us a cup of ice?” she asked him.

  “No problem.” Sebastian popped to his feet, and I stared at the floor until I heard him leave the room.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “No need to thank me,” she replied, getting a firm hold on my uninjured arm. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  I shook my head as I slipped out of the bed. “Just...just a friend.”

  It used to hurt to say that. People often assumed that we were together, something that always secretly pleased me to no end, but I felt nothing as I got my feet into the slippers and started walking. No excitement. No sweet anticipation that usually turned bitter. No sadness because it wasn’t true.

  I was... I was just empty.

  The nurse held my gown closed as we walked up and down the hall. After a couple of passes, my knees weren’t as wobbly and I was definitely breathing better than before. I could’ve kept going, but the nurse escorted me back to the room.

  Sebastian was still there, sitting in the chair. He stood as I neared the bed, a pale yellow plastic cup in his hand. “I have the ice.”

  “Perfect,” the nurse replied, still gripping the back of my gown. “Can you put it on the table?”

  As Sebastian turned to do just that, the nurse held my gown as I climbed onto the bed. It was on an incline, so I was sitting up. Keeping my attention trained on my hands, I could feel Sebastian moving closer as the nurse pulled out the inhalers for the treatment.

  Sebastian stayed through that, too.

  Then after the nurse left, he was still there when my mom returned. I pretended to sleep while they talked in hushed tones about nothing. I eventually fell asleep, listening to voices that should’ve been as familiar as breathing to me but sounded like strangers now.

  * * *

  I learned Friday afternoon that there was no football game, when Sebastian showed up about an hour after school let out.

  Unlike the day before, there was a tiny spark of something inside me when Mom looked up over at the door and I saw Sebastian. I guessed that was an improvement from feeling nothing at all.

  Sebastian looked better.

  He still hadn’t shaved, but the deep shadows under his eyes had lessened and there was more color to his skin.

  He did all the talking then—about school and the two classes we shared this year, about Abbi and Dary. Talked about everything except for the accident or the funerals. I didn’t do much talking. I just lay there, staring at the TV.

  He came by again Saturday afternoon, and there was another spark, that warming in my chest I wanted to grasp ahold of, but it...it didn’t feel right to do so.

  I might’ve said a total of five sentences total.

  I didn’t have it in me to talk, to put voice to everything that was inside my head or what I was feeling...and what I wasn’t.

  Sebastian also showed up on Sunday, his face clean shaven, wearing black trousers and a white button-down. He had the sleeves rolled up and was carrying a flat brown paper bag. I knew where he’d come from.

  “You’re looking a lot better,” he said, sitting in the chair by the window. The paper bag dangled between his knees. “Where’s your mom?”

  I drew in a shallow, uneven breath. “Home. She’s...she’s coming soon.”

  “Cool.” Those deep blue eyes caught mine for a moment. “You think you’re getting out tomorrow?”

  Shifting on the inclined bed, I nodded.

  His thick lashes lowered as he lifted his bag. “I meant to give this to you yesterday. Left it in th
e Jeep without thinking.” He reached into the bag, then pulled out a large square that I quickly realized was a giant card.

  My dry lips parted. “What...what is that?”

  A lopsided grin appeared. “It’s a card. Pretty sure it’s made it through the whole entire school.”

  A card.

  A card for me.

  I lifted my gaze to Sebastian. He was holding it out to me, but I couldn’t make myself move. I couldn’t take it. It wasn’t right. Jesus Christ, it was so not right.

  Sebastian stared at me a moment. Silence stretched out and then his chest rose with a deep breath. He placed the bag on the window ledge and moved closer to the bed.

  “Everyone has been thinking of you.” He carefully opened the jumbo-sized card, holding it in front of me. “They miss you.”

  My gaze flickered over the card. I could see signatures all along the card, underneath doodled hearts and bubbly “Get well soon” messages. I saw “We love you” written in cursive and in block letters. Guilt churned in my stomach, filling my veins with battery acid.

  Didn’t they know?

  “I miss you,” Sebastian added quietly.

  Slowly, I lifted my eyes to him, and emotion clogged the back of my throat. They missed me and they wanted me to get better, but they didn’t know that I could’ve—I should’ve—changed what had happened.

  Sebastian closed the card, clearing his throat as he stepped back. “I’ll put it on your table, okay?” Not waiting for my answer, he propped it up on the small table by my bed.

  I peeked at him. He was quiet as he moved the chair closer to my bed and sat, resting his arms on his legs, and he had this look on his face, like he didn’t know what to say or do and he was trying to figure it out.

  “You...you don’t have to stay here,” I told him, returning to staring at my hands. “I know I’m not much company.”

  “I don’t want to leave,” he replied and then exhaled roughly. “Do you want... Do you want to talk about it?”

  My entire body stiffened. “No.”

  Sebastian was quiet for a long moment again. “Dary and Abbi really miss you. They’re trying to give you space, but—”

  “I know,” I interrupted. “I’m just... I don’t want them to have to come here. Hospitals suck.”

  “They wouldn’t mind.”

  I knew they wouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. I should be home tomorrow.”

  He shifted in the chair, leaning back. “Cody’s funeral was today. They had it at the big church off of Route 11. You know the one? Where we used to do the whole trick-or-treat thing at,” he explained. “The place was packed. Standing room only. I mean, all the... All the funerals were that way, but you know Cody.” He laughed hoarsely. “He would’ve loved it. You know, all those people.”

  Pressing my lips together, I nodded. Cody would’ve... He would’ve been reveling in the attention.

  “His parents...” Sebastian trailed off, clearing his throat. “You know his younger brother, right? Toby? He’s what? Twelve? Thirteen? God. He’s a spitting image of Cody. And he was... He was pretty upset. They had to take him out halfway through the service. He’s gonna be...”

  Hands clenching, I glanced over at Sebastian. He was staring into the space in front of the bed, his jaw tight and his mouth strained. “He’s going to be what?”

  His chest rose with an audible breath. “He’s gonna be okay. Eventually.”

  I didn’t reply, even though I wanted to agree. I wanted Toby to be okay, but how could we know if that would happen? He’d lost his older brother. How does one just get over that? How does that pain ever lessen, even over the years? How is the hole in your life, the place another person belonged in, ever filled up again?

  How do you move on?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Walking through my bedroom door Monday morning was harder than I could have ever anticipated.

  Mom was already inside, fluffing several extra firm pillows she’d bought, building a pillow fort at the head of the bed. Per the doctor’s orders, I was supposed to sleep in a recliner for the first three days, since my breathing hadn’t exactly returned to normal, but since we didn’t have a recliner, the pillow fort would have to do.

  I knew she’d been able to use sick time for the days off, but we didn’t have a lot of extra money to be going out and buying pillows. I’d offered to pay for them out of the small fund I had saved up, but Mom had refused. Dr. Arnold said I could return to waitressing once I was cleared by my general doctor, but he’d said volleyball was going to be up in the air for a while, obviously, with the arm injury.

  I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to go back to Joanna’s.

  I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to go back to volleyball.

  I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to go back to anything.

  Mom straightened and looked over her shoulder. “You okay?”

  No.

  I was still standing in the doorway, stuck, as my gaze flickered across the room. Everything was like it was before, except on my desk was a stack of textbooks and binders. Sebastian must’ve brought them over. I’d have the rest of this week to get caught up on what would be two weeks of missed classes.

  I also wasn’t sure I had it in me to walk into this bedroom.

  My room was still the same, while nothing else was, and it didn’t feel right walking into it when I could still see Megan the last time she was here, sitting cross-legged on my bed, twisting her long blond hair between her hands or tossing a volleyball against the wall as she talked about Phillip. I could go further back in time, seeing her when she was thirteen, going through the stacks of my books, searching through the adult books, looking for the dirtiest scenes to read out loud to Dary, whose face would turn the color of a radish. I could hear Megan and Abbi arguing about which dancer was the best on Dance Moms or whose mother they’d pick to win a street fight. My lips started to turn up at the corners.

  I didn’t even get to go to Megan’s funeral.

  Closing my eyes, I planted my right hand on the doorjamb as I swayed slightly.

  “Lena?”

  “Yeah,” I bit out, swallowing. “I’m just...”

  I didn’t know what I was anymore.

  I was at home. I was alive and I was at home.

  No one else in that car was.

  They all were in the ground.

  “You’re probably exhausted. You need to be resting, not standing.” Mom tugged down the comforter on my bed. “Come on. This is where you need to be.”

  Mom fussed over me until I got in bed and she had the covers over my legs. Then she fussed some more, bringing up a glass of water and a can of soda, along with a bowl of chips. Only after I was surrounded by everything I could possibly need did she leave the bedroom and return with something else in her hand.

  “I didn’t want to bring this into the hospital, especially since you weren’t up to seeing anyone.” She walked over to the bed and held out her hand. “The police brought it by on Wednesday when none of...none of the other families claimed it.”

  It was my cell phone.

  “I’ve kept it charged for you. I think you’ve got quite a few messages on there.” She glanced down at it. “I have no idea how it stayed in one piece.”

  Slowly, I took my phone out of her hand and turned it over, screen up. How had my phone survived that crash? The vehicle had rolled, and I’d...I’d been holding that phone when Cody hit the tree.