Collision Course Page 4

Chapter 3

 

  Me, My Friends and I

  It was late when my mom came back home, well after midnight. I'd already sulked for hours, watched the rain when it picked back up and re-dampened the pavement outside, and made myself a dinner of pepperoni Hot Pockets. Such a productive day. I was lying on the couch, watching late night TV, when I heard the front door crack open. A flash of guilt washed through me as I looked over at my tiny mother in her waitressing uniform.

  She looked exhausted, her ponytail barely holding back her hair that had frizzed out a little in the rainstorm. A long piece had fallen free and she tucked it behind her ear as she turned to face me with a small frown on her lips. Ignoring the look that clearly said, 'shouldn't you be asleep,' I glanced down at the large coffee stain on the front of her skirt.

  "Have a good night?" I asked, before she could launch into an 'it's a school night' speech.

  She sighed and plopped her heavy purse on the kitchen counter before trudging into the living room to sit on the couch beside me. I put my arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head into mine. "It was. . . alright. "

  I knew she was lying. I could tell by her voice and her face and the overall look of her, that the night hadn't gone well at all. She worked nights at a diner on the edge of town. The small eatery was a favorite place to go for a lot of the locals, but was also frequented by gamblers coming in and out of the casino just outside of town and visitors going in and out of the federal prison, also just outside of town. The mixture of the three groups wasn't always a peaceful one. By the look of her uniform and the haggardness of her sigh, someone hadn't been too pleased with the service tonight. I wanted to ask her about it, but knew my mom well enough to know that she'd never confide her troubles in me. To me, her life would always be. . . alright.

  "How was your first day?" Her head lifted off my shoulder and her gaze narrowed as true concern filled her. The ups and downs in her life might be acceptable to her, but my life was a completely different story. Sometimes I wondered why my life was always so much higher on her list of priorities than her own.

  I threw on a tired smile. "It was. . . alright. "

  She frowned and pulled away from my arm to study me better. I wasn't sure what she saw, but I could imagine it well enough - eyes slightly red from tiredness, and an embarrassing bout of crying earlier, face worn and hair rumpled, clothes disarrayed from restless pacing. I was probably pulling off "alright" about as well as she was. Unfortunately for me, she was a mom, and wasn't about to let me get away with an outright lie, like I'd just let her. Life could be unfair that way.

  "What happened, Lucas?"

  I sighed and looked away from her. How do I tell her? How do I add to the woman's worries; she had enough as it was. I couldn't tell her about the stares. I couldn't tell her about the whispers. I definitely couldn't tell her about the conversation about me the jerks on the bus were having. I couldn't tell her about Josh itching for a fight. I couldn't tell her about Will repeatedly tripping me in English. I couldn't tell her I'd thrown up in the bushes. There was so much I couldn't tell her. . . just like I couldn't about that night. It would do her no good to know. In fact, it would only hurt her if she did. There wasn't a whole lot of ways that I, as a seventeen year old boy, could help her. . . except this one. I'd omit.

  I looked back to her concerned eyes and very quietly said, "I skipped a few classes. I'll need a pass. "

  She opened her mouth to question me more and then she shut it. Searching my eyes, she must have noticed something in the hazel depths, something that made her realize I wasn't going to go into detail for her. It was my way to protect her. A tiny smile lit the very edges of her lips and she sighed again. "I'll call the school in the morning. " She tenderly kissed my forehead. "Get some sleep, Lucas. You do have school tomorrow. "

  She stood and, rubbing out a spot in her back, turned to walk down the hallway to where the bedrooms were. "Goodnight, Mom," I called out softly after her and she called back goodnight in return. I looked down at my hands and momentarily wished I could tell her everything. Everything about that night, everything that had happened today, even what had happened this morning on the sidewalk. But I couldn't, and I didn't. The burden was mine to bear, not hers.

  I rubbed my eyes and went back to watching an infomercial that seemed to be playing on a never ending loop. It seemed like just a few seconds later when the cushion on the other side of me compressed and I looked over to see a very alive and beautiful Lillian smiling brilliantly at me.

  "Hey, Lucas! What riveting show are we watching?" Her full lips turned to a soft pout as she turned her head to look at the TV. "Oh god, that fishing thing again?" She turned back to me, still pouting. "You're not seriously thinking of buying that thing are you? You don't even fish. "

  Nothing about her being here seemed odd to me. Lillian had often stopped by at weird hours of the night, just to spend time with me. She'd sneak out of her home and sneak into mine, just to snuggle on the couch and watch television for a few hours before sneaking back. It was always a pleasant surprise when she popped in.

  I smiled and brought my arm around her and she giggled, leaning into my side. "Maybe I want to start. "

  She kissed me softly. "Fishing takes forever, Luc. What am I supposed to do while you're out playing with trout?"

  I cupped her pale cheek, lightly highlighted with a rosy blush, and kissed her tenderly, savoring the feel of her lips against mine. "You could come with me? We could do this while we wait. "

  She giggled against my lips and ran her hand down my chest while our mouths moved in perfect synch. Something about the conversation triggered a memory in me, like deja vu, I felt like I'd seen and done all this with her before. I pulled away from her mouth, the familiar scent of cherry lip balm almost overpowering me. "I'm dreaming. . . aren't I?"

  She sighed and her pale eyes seemed to sadden as she looked over my face. "Yeah, I'm sorry. "

  I smiled softly and fought back the sudden ache in my chest. "Don't be. As far as dreams go. . . " I shook my head, "this one's not so bad. "

  Her hand on my chest rested on my heart and my other hand snaked around her waist to pull her into me. My realization that this wasn't real, didn't alter the fact that it felt real. Her hands on me were warm and alive. Her breath against my face was soft, and held a lingering smell of her favorite candy, mint Mentos, and her body was curvy and enticing. . . and perfect, as she pressed against me.

  She kissed me softly and then a sad sigh escaped her. "Why don't you talk to anyone, Luc? Why are you letting them all. . . ?" Her eyes narrowed in fury, which was such an adorable look on her, that I grinned. "I'm gonna kill Josh for that rock!" I laughed and she scowled at me.

  I cocked my head at her. "That's an amusing thought. My dead girlfriend is going to defend me. " I kissed her nose and she smiled crookedly when I pulled away. "Even deceased, you're adorable. "

  She shook her head and kissed my cheek. Then she rested her head in the crook of my neck and sighed contently as I closed my eyes and held her tight, suddenly scared that any minute I'd wake up and she'd be gone.

  "You should talk to someone, Lucas. You shouldn't go through this alone. "

  "I can talk to you," I whispered.

  She pulled back to look at me, seriousness marking her features. "You know why that's ridiculous, right?" I looked away and shrugged and her hand came up to my cheek, bringing my gaze back to her. "Tell someone you remember. Tell them what happened. . . with the water, the road. They'd stop this nonsense about you being drunk, Luc. They'd understand. "

  I was already shaking my head though and tears were already starting to form. "I can't, Lil. I can't talk about what happened, about what I did. I can't talk about killing you. " A tear slid down my cheek and her fingers brushed it off. Her eyes watered, watching mine fall. "It doesn't matter how or why it happened. I still killed you, all of you. "

  "No, it was an accident, Luc
. Talk to someone. " She looked down for a moment and her voice was oddly subdued when she spoke again. "Maybe. . . maybe that new girl. "

  I blinked and confusion rang through me before I understood her strange expression. My hand reached up and grabbed her chin, making her sad eyes look at me. "Nothing is going on with me and her, Lil. I'm not interested in her. . . only you. "

  She smiled such a sad smile, that her eyes suddenly looked happy in comparison. "Don't you realize how awful that is?"

  I scrunched my brow as confusion filled me again. "Awful? That I want to be with you?"

  She sighed softly and kissed me. The sweetness of her lips stole my breath and for a moment this was the most real experience I'd had in months. She pulled back from our intimate touch, her lips leaving mine slowly, hesitantly. I hungered for more.

  "Yes, Lucas. . . I'm dead," she whispered.

  I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream at her that she was more real than anything I'd felt in so long, that I was beginning to believe being awake was the dream. I wanted to tell her that with her in my arms, I could finally breathe again. I wanted to keep her in my arms and breathe steadily that way, forever. I wanted to finally tell her that I loved her.

  But at that moment. . . I woke up.

  My head lifted off the couch with a start and looking around, I noticed the TV was still on, playing some early morning news show with hosts that were entirely too happy for the inhuman hour, and a hazy pre-dawn light filtered in through the eastward facing windows. I also had a crick in my neck the size of Texas. Great. I'd slept on the couch. . . again.

  I closed my eyes as the memories of my dream flooded me. In some ways, it was better than the nightmare I often had of the crash. In some ways, it was worse. Her memory was fresh again. I could feel her arms, her lips. . . her body. I could hear her laughter. God, I could even smell her again. Tears welled up under my closed lids, waiting to fall the moment I opened them. I drew in a stuttered breath that exhaled into a racking sob. My hands came up to cover my face as the insistent tears didn't wait for my permission to fall. I sobbed as quietly as I could, so as to not wake, and worry, my mom.

  God, I miss you, Lil.

  After awhile I showered and got dressed for the day. I wasn't even going to bother trying to get back to sleep. I didn't want to dream about her again. . . and I desperately did want to dream about her again. But school was in a couple of hours anyway. Any dream I would have had, would've been a short one, and if I was going to see her that way again, I wanted as much time as possible. God, what a messed up thought: To sleep, perchance to dream. . . but only if you've got the time to commit to it.

  Sighing, I made a pot of coffee. Mom frowned on me drinking the stuff, but like a lot of things in my life lately, she let it slide. It was almost as if I had a permanent "get out of jail free" card. She let me get away with doing things I'd never have gotten away with before. Cutting school, for instance. If it was last year and I'd done that, she'd have had my head. Of course, if it were last year, I'd be cutting to go get into trouble with Darren. A lot can change in a year.

  I thought over my friend as I grabbed the pot of thick, black and incredibly strong coffee (once I'd decided to start drinking it, I hadn't messed around and went right for the hard stuff). His joking face popped into my head easier than it had in awhile; maybe seeing Lil had sharpened his memory in me as well. I could clearly see his quick to light with mischief brown eyes and unruly, dark brown hair, that was always sticking up somewhere, even though Sammy was continually trying to press it flat, which usually made him grunt in mock exasperation and playfully push her mothering hands away.

  I pictured him leaning back in my kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at me and shaking his head. "Come on, Lucas - blow off class with me today. "

  I smiled at the remembered conversation we'd had months ago. "I can't, Darren. I have a math test first period. "

  He rolled his eyes and shook his head again. "So. . . M80s, Luc! Freakin' M80s! Let's go blow some shit up!" His eyes lit up at the prospect. Even though he was two months older than me, sometimes he seemed about three years younger. He and Josh had scored the fireworks. . . somewhere. They were always finding. . . questionable entertainment.

  I smiled wider. "We will. I'll meet you after school. "

  His normally happy face darkened a bit and he twisted his lips in clear displeasure about something. "I can't after school. Josh wants to come too and he's still grounded. He has to go right home after school, and Mom would have my head if I didn't take him. "

  I'd never asked what Josh had done (he was constantly getting grounded for something), so I had no idea now, why that had been an issue. But apparently, Josh missing class wouldn't bring wrath down on Darren, so he'd been all for that plan. Of course, with those two, forging notes had become almost an art form.

  "I'll meet up with you guys at lunch, okay? We'll blow some shit up then. " I almost felt like laughing when I remembered what we'd ended up blowing up. Darren had swiped a garden gnome from his neighbor's house and the poor concrete bastard had met its maker down by the river. Darren's neighbor had asked his parents for weeks if they'd seen that thing. Luckily for Darren, they'd never found out. . . although, I suppose it didn't matter now.

  "Luc?"

  The vision of Darren, nodding at my suggestion and growing animatedly excited over what we could do, suddenly vanished from my sight at the sound of my mother's voice. I turned my head, my hand still clenched around the full coffee pot, ready to pour it into my cup. I realized that, to her, I'd just been standing still at the counter holding a pot of coffee and doing nothing for. . . god knows how long.

  "Are you okay?"

  I nodded as she walked completely into our small kitchen. The room basically consisted of a stove next to a dishwasher next to a small sink next to a fridge. Somewhere in that cramped space, they had thrown in a little counter room, just enough for the coffee pot. The other wall of the room had a narrow rectangle of a table with only two chairs, one for her and one for me, underneath a large window that overlooked our driveway. After giving me a quick hug and a look-over, she sat down in the chair traditionally held as hers.

  I poured a mug for her automatically. As per usual, she didn't delve any further into what I'd been thinking, giving me my space. By what even I knew was a solemn look on my face, she had to of known anyway. There were really only three things I ever thought much about: Sammy, Darren and Lillian. Either of the three would cause her, and myself, a handful of pain, so I didn't go into any details.

  I poured a mug for myself and joined her at the table. Neither of us ate anything; we'd never much had the stomach for food before ten in the morning. We weren't what you'd call "breakfast people. "

  Mom was dressed and ready for her first job of the day, her hair in an orderly ponytail that I knew would be falling apart by lunchtime. She was dressed in jeans and a uniformed polo shirt with 'Andy's Hardware' in the upper left corner. She worked there until five and then she switched clothes, sometimes in her station wagon, and headed out to the diner. She had taken a job at a hardware store, not just to make sure we got by, but also so she'd be knowledgeable in home repair and maintenance. She'd completely depended on a man once in her life and she didn't want to ever have to do that again. She'd taught me everything she had learned over the years. I learned a lot from my mom.

  Feeling her eyes drinking me in again, I brought up a topic that I thought might bring her a small amount of cheer. It had certainly been the only bright spot in my day yesterday. My lips curled into a tight, contained smile. "I met a girl yesterday. "

  Her eyes widened at that, before they returned to normal. Her face took on an expression of weariness and happiness. I liked seeming the latter if not the former. Mom knew that when I said, "I met a girl", I meant it in only the most literal way it could be taken. There were no potential love interests for me. Not right now. Not when my heart was lying in a cold,
dark. . .

  Mom interrupted my swirling thoughts. "Oh, did you?" She sighed softly, as she looked over my face again.

  I coughed and made myself cheer up for her. "Yeah, in the bathroom. " I leaned in conspiratorially. "The men's bathroom. "

  Mom laughed. It was short and seemed a little rusty from being unused for so long, but it had been genuine and the smile on my face was suddenly as real as that laugh had been. "Sounds like an interesting girl. "

  I thought over the encounter and nodded as I took a long draw from my potent coffee. "That she is. " My smile again was genuine and my mom noticed it and cocked an eyebrow before letting her face relax into neutrality. She didn't want to get her hopes up that I'd moved on. Either that, or she was struggling with me moving on as well. She'd loved Lil too.

  "Does this bathroom girl have a name?"

  I let out a soft laugh at my mom using the same nickname I'd used; my laugh was a little rusty too. "Sawyer. " Mom raised her eyebrows and I nodded. "Yeah, like Tom Sawyer. " I shook my head. "Her parents are fans. " Mom laughed again and I delighted in the rare sound, happy that I had given her a reason to produce it. In a thoughtful voice, I added, "She's new this year and she was really. . . kind to me yesterday. "

  Mom's laughter ended as she took in my tone of voice and the look on my face. Mom heard the gossip too, and could probably guess how my day had actually gone. Someone showing me an ounce of warmth would have been held in high regard in her eyes. They started to water now as she, for the seemingly hundredth time this morning, looked me over.

  "I'm glad, Lucas," she whispered.

  I nodded and we both went back to quietly sipping our caffeine. After long, silent moments, when my mug was finally empty, I stood, gave her a kiss on the head, and left to grab my backpack. I also grabbed a plain, gray jacket that had been buried in the back of the coat closet. Mom stood and watched me from the kitchen entryway. Her eyes took in the absence of my letterman's jacket, but she didn't ask where it went. Its absence, along with mine, must have filled in a lot of the blanks for her, on what really went down at school. She sighed and offered me a ride again, which I declined, again. She wished me luck and told me she loved me and I returned both sentiments to her. Then she hugged me and we parted ways for the day.

  I headed outside to walk the couple miles to school. It was early and I had the time today. It was also still overcast, but this morning was dry, and it seemed like it was going to stay that way. And really, even if it were pouring, I'd rather walk a few miles in a downpour, than hop on that damn bus again.

  The walk to school was long and a touch monotonous. I found my mind blanking out as I counted the cracks in the pavement. It did stay dry on me, and at the three thousandth, four hundredth and fifty-second crack, I finally arrived back at Sheridan High. It was early still, and only a couple bodies were milling around the school. I didn't look to see if they noticed me. Instead, I immediately made my way up to the main building and up the stairs to my English class.

  The room was empty as I went to take my seat at the desk I sat in yesterday. I glanced around at the twenty or so other desks, all empty and awaiting their occupants, those students still on their way to school or eating breakfast, or possibly even still sleeping.

  For a second, I remembered that Sammy was supposed to be in this class with me. The four of us last year had worked out our schedules so that one or all of us would have a class together. It had ended up with just Sammy and me in this first period. Lillian had been really excited that her best friend was going to be in a class with me again. Her "plant" as she put it, to subtly remind me of birthdays, holidays and our anniversary. What it would have ended up being, was what last year's Geometry class had ended up being - Sammy digging out secrets on Darren from me.

  I pictured Sammy in the seat in front of me, twisting around to grin at me, her auburn hair dangling over her shoulder. "So, Luc. . . seriously, what did Darren say about. . . our night?"

  I blushed and rolled my eyes, as I remembered her asking me about a very private conversation I'd had with Darren after their "first" time. "Sammy. . . I'm not talking about that with you. "

  She leaned over her chair, smiling even wider. "Come on, you have to tell me, Luc. I know he talked to you about it; he talks to you about everything. So. . . what did he say?" A tiny frown drew down the corners of her mouth. "Was it bad? Did he not. . . like it?"

  I gave her my best 'are you kidding' face. "He's a guy. . . of course he liked it. "

  Her corresponding grin was brilliant, and her eyes sparkled with merriment. "Ha! I knew he talked to you. "

  I sighed over getting trapped in her questioning, while she laughed and begged for details. I looked around the room with my eyes and then leaned forward; she leaned towards me as well. "You can't tell him I said anything, he'd kill me. " She made a quick pledge with her fingers and I sighed, wondering how I'd gotten sucked up into girl gossip. . . again. "He said it was amazing. . . like, the best thing he'd ever experienced. " Her eyes misted over as she bit her lip. I shrugged, getting a little uncomfortable. "He said he loved you even more. " I cringed a bit as she looked about ready to squeal with girl delight. "Is that enough? Can we not talk about this again. . . ever?"

  She grinned and nodded, then leaned forward further and kissed my forehead. "Thanks, Luc! God, you're the best!"

  I shook my head at her and smiled warmly at the beautiful girl that had my friend's heart. Her auburn hair framed the cutest, heart shaped face with brown eyes so light they were almost gold. Those eyes were always so full of love and laughter. She rarely ever had a down day. She was so darn happy, she was almost bubbly, but never in an obnoxious way. Just in a way that made you want to be around her. Her zest for life, made you want to have that zest too. I missed that. . .

  "Good morning, Lucas. "

  I blinked out of my memory and looked up at the teacher's desk where Ms. Reynolds was setting down a stack of papers. "Good morning, Ms. Reynolds. "

  She sat on the edge of her desk and crossed her arms over her chest. On a normal day, I'd notice that her legs were long and lean under that tight skirt she wore, but I hadn't noticed stuff like that in awhile. She gave me a soft repentant smile. "I'm sorry about yesterday. That was. . . " She sighed softly. "This is going to be an adjustment period for everyone, Lucas. Things will get better. "

  I nodded, but said nothing. I suppose things would get better. I mean, how could they possibly get worse? She bit her lip and cocked her head as she looked me over. I wondered what I looked like to her. Did she see the out of control, troubled teen that the students made me out to be, or did she only see a teen that had made a horrible mistake? Either way, I knew she saw me as guilty, and that closed up my throat and I could only watch her, watch me.

  Finally she spoke. "Did the counselor help?"

  I paused, debating if I should be truthful. That almost made me chuckle. Being truthful in this town, didn't seem to matter much. Not wanting to go into any details with her, I only nodded again. She sighed and looked like she desperately wanted to get me talking to her, but had no idea how to do that. I didn't either and remained silent.

  An almost awkward silence built up in the room as we watched each other. It was finally ended by the arrival of a few more students. Ms. Reynolds straightened as they entered the class and greeted each of them by name. Her face relaxed into a pleasant smile as more students came in and were greeted. She did seem to really love her job, I just made her uncomfortable. Understandable, I suppose.

  The students ignored me as they settled into their seats. Well, most of them ignored me. A couple stared openly and one or two glared, but I ignored it, and eventually they ignored me.

  I stared down at my desk as Randy and Will arrived together. I heard their deep laughter and felt their heavy steps, as the linebacker and now-quarterback walked to their seats. I heard my name, followed by more laughter, and felt my cheeks heat. I was sure they were laughing
over my repeated falls yesterday. Oh, and fleeing the room. I definitely hadn't earned any cool points. Oh well, today would be better. Well, today at least, I wouldn't be fleeing. . . hopefully.

  They sat heavily in their chairs, the metal scraping against the floor as their bulk shifted the desks. I glanced up and watched them bump fists in a show of camaraderie and friendship. Last year, I would have been included in that ritual while they'd jokingly ask when I'd break up with Lillian, so Will could date her. He'd had a huge crush on her from nearly day one. I suppose that only added to the reasons why he didn't like me.

  I stared back down at my desk and reveled in the silence of everyone ignoring me. It was better than questions, better than accusations and much better than being near-bullied. I was still staring at my desk, when I felt a body sit in the chair next to mine. I glanced over at Sawyer sitting beside me. Her long, black hair was straight down her back today and covered the large letters of my name on the letterman's jacket she was still wearing. I was a little surprised that she was still wearing it. Maybe she didn't have any other jacket? She did appear to be wearing the same ripped and faded jeans. With all the alienation tied to me at this school, I'd think she'd want to avoid associating herself with me, and my name on her back would certainly do that. Good thing her hair covered it, I guess.

  I looked back down to my desk, but looked over again at hearing her soft voice. "Hi, Lucas. "

  I smiled slightly as I watched her gray eyes flick over my face, judging my mood today, perhaps wondering if I'd be making another run for the border. "Hey, Sawyer. "

  She glanced up at the jocks a few seats in front of us and then back to me. "How. . . are you?"

  I looked down as I checked my emotional temperature. How was I? How was I ever these days? Barely holding on by a thread. . . Waiting for the next catastrophe to strike. . . Haunted by images of my friends and girlfriend. . .

  "I'm fine," I whispered.

  From the corner of my eye, I watched her hand start to raise and come towards me. My nerves shot right up to my chest at the thought of her placing a comforting palm on my shoulder. I had enjoyed her caretaking yesterday, and a part of me wanted that again today. Another part of me wanted to get through this on my own and, for the moment, I listened to that part. I twisted in my chair to face her and she hastily brought the hand reaching out for me up to her hair, tucking a piece behind her ear. I mentally cringed at the absence of her touch, but threw on a tiny smile for her benefit.

  "How was the rest of your first day yesterday?"

  She didn't look to buy my fake smile, but she didn't press me on it either. Instead, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Boring. Standard high school stuff. . . clicks and cliches. " She said the last part quietly.

  I frowned as I looked over her face, her eyes suddenly on her desk, her teeth worrying at her lip. Something had happened yesterday to her after I left. It hoped it had nothing to do with the fact that she'd left with me. Maybe she'd been associated with me already and she'd been ostracized for it.

  In some ways, this microcosm of a world could be exceedingly cruel to newcomers. It hadn't been that way for Lil last year, but she'd fallen in with our crowd almost instantly and, even though it sounds horribly conceited to say it, Darren, Sammy and I. . . well, we were kind of at the focal point of the popular crowd. We were sort of the ruling class at the school, and when Lil had joined our ranks, especially when she and I had started dating, the school had practically worshipped her. But it could also go the exact opposite of that, and from the expression on Sawyer's face, I was starting to think that that's how her day had gone.

  "Hey, do you-"

  I started to ask her about it, when the bell suddenly rang. The students loitering around their friend's desks found their seats and a few more trickled in from the hallway. There was a restrained shifting in chairs as people prepared themselves for another day of fascinating learning. I watched Sawyer for a few more seconds as she studied her desk. Suddenly her eyes came up to meet mine and I saw something in that visual contact - an almost unshakable feeling that she and I were connected, that she and I were the same. I smiled and nodded at her, no longer feeling the need to ask her about how her day had gone. It wasn't necessary. I understood that her day had gone badly, just as she understood that mine had gone badly, and I wouldn't press her, anymore than she'd press me.

  I almost wanted to reach out and hold her hand. To be physically connected to her while we were visually connected. I didn't though. We were too far apart for that to be a hidden maneuver, and the last thing I wanted to bring her, was more gossip. We stared at each other for a few moments longer and then pulled our gazes away as Ms. Reynolds started class.

  Aside from a few pointed looks thrown my way, the class went by with no horrid moments. Everyone turned in their papers on their summer and I handed in the paper that I had managed to write in one of calmer moments last night. I'd written it on 'The Plight of the Single Mother'. It was as far away from my own personal hell as I could get, but close enough to home to mean something to me. It seemed the right thing to do.

  After class, I hesitated at my desk until the majority of the room filed out. Feeling better about the day, since I'd made it a full hour here, I had no desire for that to be ruined by Will and his childish form of torment. As I thought back to him stuffing freshmen in lockers and dunking "unpopular" kids in garbage cans last year, I started to wonder why he and I had even been friends at all. Was it an inevitability to become friends with the people in your same social circle, even if those people were sort of. . . dicks? Something to analyze later, I guess. Maybe in my third period Philosophy class.

  But for now, I had to get to History. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and smiled at Sawyer, who was waiting for the class to file out with me, or maybe as well as me. She smiled back. "Congratulations, West, you made it through an entire class. "

  I laughed and marveled that that was the second time today I'd done that, and both times was because of her. "Yes, thank you. . . " I frowned. "What is your last name?" I smiled again as a thought struck me. "Is it Finn? Because that would just be awesome. "

  She scowled and I laughed again at the cute look on her face. "No. " She finally laughed as well and rolled her eyes. "It's Smith. "

  My laughter died out as new students started arriving in the classroom. "Well, thank you, Smith. " I indicated the door. "Shall we?"

  She smiled crookedly at my gallantry and then headed down her aisle and out of the room. Once in the hallway, I asked her what her next class was.

  "Science. . . Chemistry. " She frowned, not looking very excited by the prospect. I frowned too, wishing she'd said History. Chemistry would put her in the long rectangular building behind this main building. It housed the Science and Astronomy classes. My History class was on the first floor. Just as I was wondering if I should walk her to class anyway, she looked up at me. "What's your next class?"

  I sighed dramatically. "History. . . blah. "

  She grinned at my exaggerated expression. "Don't knock History, it's very important. " Suddenly her face got overly serious for a teenage girl. "You know what they say about it. " I cocked my head as I watched her face. I sort of knew what they said about it. . . something about learning from it, or you're destined to repeat it. I opened my mouth to ask her what the quote was, but she started looking around and muttered, "I gotta go. " She indicated the first floor doors that led to the Science building; I hadn't realized, walking with her, that we'd made it back to the first floor already.

  "Okay, maybe we'll have another class together today. " She grinned, like she already knew the answer to that, and I suppose she already did, since she'd sat through a day of attendance already and would have heard my name spouted repeatedly at my absence, if we did have any more classes. By her look, I was guessing we did. I wonder which one?

  I was debating over Sawyer's odd look as I entered the classroom. Thinking about her expression
when she'd made that comment about history, had stopped me from thinking about my own situation. As I was greeted by a roomful of silent stares, I suddenly remembered it. Sweeping the room, I noticed that at least none of my football team was here. . . perhaps I wouldn't get tripped today. I shook my head slightly as I made my way to my seat. I really shouldn't think of it as my team anymore. I hadn't gone to tryouts over the summer. . . for obvious reasons, and the team was already well established for the year, a couple months into practices already. I had nearly expected Coach to call me about joining the team anyway, but he hadn't and it wouldn't matter if he did. That life wasn't important to me anymore. I didn't want it.

  I took a seat in the back of class and ignored the stares around me. As the bell rang and the teacher stirred from the near asleep position at his desk, I felt eyes on the right side of me. A couple girls were staring at me relentlessly - and not just the curious or baleful stares I was used to getting. No, these two held. . . determined stares, and I mentally sighed. Here we go again.

  "Lucas," one whispered. I looked over at the strawberry blonde and recognized her as Eliza Wood. Darren had had a crush on her in the fifth grade. She'd dated him for a day and then left him for a sixth grader; he'd been crushed.

  I smiled at the memory but didn't show it on my face. I only glanced over at her while the teacher went about prepping class, writing something in large letters on the white board, the smell of dry erase markers suddenly filling the small room.

  Eliza looked up at the teacher and then back to her friend. I recognized the short Latino girl too - Gabriela Hernandez. Sammy had once nearly socked the girl for spreading rumors about Darren sleeping with her. It was the only time I'd ever seen Sammy really mad. Darren had found the whole thing, well, his words were "effing hot".

  Eliza leaned towards me and I suppressed the urge to lean away. "So. . . Luc, tell us. . . what do you remember?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly, like I was suddenly going to lean into her and confess all of my innermost secrets. I resisted every urge in my body to scowl and tell her to fuck off.

  I exhaled slowly and looked back down to my desk. I didn't talk about this, to anyone. I'd never said anything to my mom. I'd never said anything at the hospital. I'd never even said anything to the cops. I had nothing to say to anyone, except, what I was about to say to the nosey girl beside me.

  "Nothing, Eliza. I remember nothing. "

  She sighed exasperatingly. "Oh come on, Luc, no one believes that. I mean, how do you forget something like that?"

  Gabriela popped up beside her. "Right, that should be like, seared in your brain or something. " I clenched my jaw as her tone got thoughtful. "Unless. . . you were just too wasted to remember? That makes sense. " I glared up at them as they nodded to each other knowingly.

  "I was not drinking!" My tone was heated. . . and a little louder than was necessary. Every head in the room swung around to me and I felt my cheeks flush. Great.

  "Lucas West. " The teacher, Mr. Davis, a graying man with thick glasses and a wide stomach, looked down at me from the front of class. Crossing his arms over his chest he practically glared at me while Eliza and Gabriela giggled quietly. "So glad you could join us today. How about keeping it down while you're here?"

  He raised an eyebrow at me and I quickly looked back to my desk, blocking out the amused voices in the room. "Yes, sir. " I usually didn't say "sir" to teachers, but it was an easy way to slip back into their good graces and really, I just wanted to sit here and quietly disappear.

  The girls snickered beside me, but didn't ask anymore questions. It wouldn't have mattered if they did, I was done answering them. My answers never mattered anyway. I glanced at the chair to my left. In English, Sawyer had been in that seat and I suddenly wished I was back in that class, even with Will and Randy there. Her presence was just so calming.

  Currently, a pale, blonde guy named Simon was sitting there, ignoring me. That seat was supposed to have Darren. This was our class together this year - just us guys. We would have used this class to catch up, without the constant interruptions of our beautiful, but chatty girlfriends, and plan "outings. "

  Darren was great at finding things to do in this small town, and this would have been the class we'd tune out to discuss it. I pictured him over there, an annoyed look on his face at hearing the dribble the teacher was spouting about the civil war, and in a hushed voice, going over his plan to abduct his neighbor's cat and see if the mewling creature could find its way home from a mile away. I had quickly talked him out of that plan last year.

  The rest of class went by quietly, with no one else brave enough to ask me anything. I'm pretty sure they'd all heard my answer anyway. Again, I let most of the room filter out before I left it - less awkward moments that way. I headed back upstairs to the second floor, where my Philosophy class was. It was the last door in the hallway, and I slowly trudged towards it. There were stares and whispers in the hall. I vaguely heard my outburst in class repeated back to me and of course, by the time I made it through the dwindling crowd of people, the story had been altered so that I had shouted, "I was drinking. "

  I sighed and pushed it from my mind. I couldn't stop the gossip train and I couldn't alter its course. These people needed a villain and my survival had ensured them one. We all have to play our parts, right?

  I paused with my hand on the door to my third period class, suddenly nervous. Not for the stares that I was getting more and more used to, no, my nerves were for the fact that Lillian and I were supposed to have this class together. I'd signed up for it, because the class looked good on college applications. Lil had signed up with me, because she loved the subject. She'd even had lofty goals of becoming a counselor some day. I wasn't sure what demons were going to haunt me when I opened this door. I turned the knob with my dream last night in my head; maybe it wouldn't be so bad picturing her again. I had sort of enjoyed seeing glimpses of Sammy and Darren today, maybe seeing Lil like this would be pleasant.

  I quickly opened the door and stepped through. I'd made good time and the class was only half full. I halfway expected a specter of Lil to hover in the middle of the room, but she didn't. The room was empty; a generic high school classroom with mass-produced posters of Socrates and Freud on the walls.

  I hurried to take a seat in the back while they were still open. Luckily, our school adopted a first come, first serve policy on seating. Students started piling in, and as I could have predicted, none of my former teammates walked through the door, choosing to get easier A's elsewhere. But a pleasant surprise did enter as the bell rang.

  Sawyer hopped through the door right as the obnoxious thing sounded and she quickly sprinted to a seat. She looked a little winded as she plopped down in her now traditional spot on my left. Her gray eyes turned to sparkle at mine as a playful smile curved her lips. She'd known I'd be here. She'd known we'd have this class together.

  I smiled as I watched her work on calming her breath. It was sort of a long way from the Science building to all the way back up here in the main building's second floor. I leaned in close to her. "You didn't plan your schedule very well. "

  She frowned as she took a couple deep breaths. "I planned it just fine. "

  I smirked at her. "You just went from the second floor, to the farthest building away, and then right back to the second floor. How is that good planning?"

  Her lips twisted as she thought of a response. "I didn't sign up for gym this year. " Her head indicated the path she'd taken. "That just made up for it. " I shook my head at her and she sighed and shrugged. "I registered late. They gave me what was still open. "

  The smirk left my face as I realized that she was taking spots that had been vacated. . . by my friends. I turned back to the front of the room, suddenly seeing that vision of Lillian - right over the top of Sawyer. It was too much, too hard. I felt the tears forming and the overwhelming desire to run. I closed my eyes and took long, deep breaths. I felt Sawyer's h
and on my arm and felt that peaceful heat that she seemed to generate, all the way through my jacket. Not caring who was watching at the moment, I reached up and grabbed her hand with my own. I squeezed it, and for long minutes, we sat in the back row, our hands clasped together in the aisle way between us.

  I finally felt normal enough to open my eyes. The teacher had already begun class and was taking attendance; my name was last, as usual. While I waited, still clutching Sawyer's hand, I felt the stares around me. I felt them and ignored them. I heard the whispers too and I heard Sawyer's name repeated in those whispers. I felt bad that my attempt to keep her out of the gossip circle this morning, by not doing exactly what I was doing, had failed horribly. If yesterday hadn't already, I'd finally dragged her into my misery.

  Feeling guilty, I dropped her hand. I glanced over at her and thought she looked hurt for a moment. The look faded as she met my eye though, so I couldn't be sure. She only gave me a small, reassuring smile. . . and it did reassure me. The peace in her gaze washed over me and I felt myself returning to normal, my previous painful moment pushed back. I couldn't think about Lil here just yet, not like I could the others. My dream had brought every detail of her right back to the surface. She was crystal clear in my head and memories of us right now would tear me to pieces. It was too hard. With her, it was just too hard.

  I missed hearing my name being called the first time and the teacher had to repeat it. I looked back and Mr. Varner was staring right at me, he obviously knew I was here, but was waiting for a response. "Here," I muttered and he smirked at me.

  Mr. Varner was the male equivalent of Ms. Reynolds: young, stylish and as Sammy had informed me once - "hot as hell". There were rumors around the school that he was sort of a playboy, and from the thick, dark hair, piercing blue eyes and overall movie star good looks, I could see that. Darren had told me once that he'd heard Mr. Varner "dated" students sometimes. I didn't think that was true, and certainly no one had ever caught him, or accused him of anything, but the girls in the class were all staring at him like he might try and sweep them off their feet at any moment. While the gossip floating around this teacher was more socially acceptable than my gossip, I thought maybe of all the teachers in the school, he would understand my situation and be all the more compassionate for it.

  I was wrong.

  He berated me for a good five minutes on ditching class the first day of school, and then loaded the entire class down with a paper due by Friday, which he highly indicated was my fault. The girls in the classroom never lost their adoring look for him, only hardened their glances at me, like I had actually given them the assignment. I decided that no amount of Philosophy studying would ever help me understand the female gender - they were just not understandable.

  After class, Sawyer walked around her desk to come over and stand by me. As most of the bodies shuffled out of the room, she indicated the door with her head, her long, dark hair flowing over her shoulder at the movement. My eyes rested on her jacket, my jacket, and I hoped my name was still covered on her back, for her sake.

  "Come on. "

  She put her hand on my elbow and gently pulled, and I had the sudden feeling that she'd really wanted to grab my hand again. I debated grabbing hers, that had felt so nice during class, but I was loathe to create more problems for her, and only a handful of students had seen our intimate contact. Us walking down the hall hand in hand, even if it was just a friendly gesture, would be a neon announcement in this school. I didn't want her being scrutinized like that, so I scooted away from her touch and started walking towards the door. She frowned slightly, but followed me.

  "Where are you off to next?" I asked, as we started walking side by side down the hall.

  She grinned crookedly at me. "I need to make a pit stop at my locker and then we have fourth together. "

  I matched her grin as I looked over at her. One benefit of a small school, I suppose, you ran into a lot of the same students in class. There was a fifteen minute "break" between third and fourth period, so we had time to leisurely make our way down to the first floor, which held the upperclassman lockers. I thought over the upcoming class and swallowed a lump that was suddenly in my throat. Math Analysis. We were all going to take that class together. We were going to make our own study group and help each other get through tests. Okay, Lil, Sammy and I were going to study and help each other get through tests. Darren's plan was to copy off of Sammy.

  I pictured her in the hallway, just as we approached the lockers. She'd harshly smacked Darren on the arm after he'd told her that, and informed him that he could absolutely not cheat off her. Darren and I had given each other small smiles after she said that - of course she'd let him cheat off her. There wasn't a whole lot Sammy wouldn't let Darren do.

  I walked to the locker that was assigned to me and paused before it, taking in the one on the right and the two on the left. Darren had bribed someone in the office last year to get all of our lockers together. Lillian had joked at the time that it was almost liked we all lived together while we were at school. I ran my fingers over the locker beside mine, the one that would have been hers. My breath started getting fainter.

  Fingers brushed mine and I startled, almost expecting to see Lil again. I looked over and saw Sawyer watching me curiously, her fingers over mine on the locker, the locker where she was currently twisting the combination lock with her other hand. It finally registered then, that she was opening that locker, and shock knocked my breath back.

  "This is yours?" My brows scrunched together as I considered that.

  Her brows scrunched together too as she looked over my paling face. "Yes. . . is that one yours?"

  She indicated the one beside hers and I absentmindedly nodded. "They gave you Lil's," I muttered under my breath.

  "Lil?" Her hand closed around mine and she stopped trying to open her locker. "Who is Lil? I've heard the name in whispers, but no one will really talk about her. . . and yesterday. . . " She looked down as my eyes watered, I wasn't even sure if I could tell her about Lillian.

  "Yesterday?" I said quietly, trying to prolong my agony.

  She looked up and then back down the hallway, where I'm assuming a good section of people were watching us stand beside each other with her hand over mine. I resisted the urge to pull away from her, to spare her the rumors. She stepped closer to me when she looked back up to my face, our bodies nearly touching now, and I again resisted the urge to get some space between us. She shouldn't be so close to me. I wasn't good for her.

  "You called me Lil yesterday in English. . . you looked really confused. "

  I dropped my head and closed my eyes. I'd nearly forgotten that I'd heard Lil's voice and gotten confused, thinking for a moment that Sawyer was her. I'd been such an emotional wreck that day. . . I suppose I still was. I felt a tear bubble up under my eyelid and tried to will it back into my body. It escaped with my words however. "Lillian was my girlfriend. . . she died in the crash. "

  The beginning of a sob started to come out and I bit my lip hard and rested my head against my locker, not wanting to break down in the middle of school. Sawyer's other hand came up to my back where she rubbed me consolingly over my jacket. She stepped even closer, to where we were pseudo-hugging, the movement shielding me from the public's view and creating a tiny bubble of privacy as we stood close together, next to my dead girlfriend's locker.

  "I'm sorry, Luc. I didn't know. "

  I nodded against the cool metal and concentrated on long inhales through the nose and exhales through the mouth. I would not break down in the hallway. Not around these people. Sawyer put her head against her locker and looked up at me. I looked down at her as another tear rolled down my cheek and instantly felt the connection again, like here was someone who almost instinctually knew my pain. Our eyes held for long seconds, and then she released her hold on my hand and brushed aside the tear from my face.

  Just when I was feeling better, a hand sh
oved my back, hard, and I pushed into the lockers. I automatically turned my head and moved my body to step in front of Sawyer. An irritated Josh stood in front of me. His face was twisted in a scowl and his dark eyes flicked between mine and Sawyer's. I could almost see the accusation in those eyes - 'How dare you move on! Did Lillian and Sammy and my brother mean nothing to you?' I swallowed my angry retort to the unasked question that I could clearly see building, and tried to remember that not too long ago, this had been a good friend. . . and he was all I had left of Darren.

  "Josh, can we talk about-"

  The minute my soothing tone hit him, his face twisted in rage. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to think of me as anything but an evil, soulless creature that had devastated his family. It was almost like he had died in that car as well, as unattainable to me as he was now. He brought his hands up and shoved me again, pushing me and Sawyer back into the lockers. She squeaked away at the last minute and tried to pull Josh off of me while he yelled obscenities at me.

  "Hey, break it up!" Coach Taylor strode up to where a circle of encouraging students had gathered, students encouraging Josh. He pulled Josh off of me while those students started groaning at the fight being broken up. "You! To the principal's office - now!"

  He grabbed Josh's shirt by the collar and started pulling him away forcefully. While he walked him away, Coach turned back to where I was still leaning against the lockers. "I want to talk to you later, West. " He raised his eyebrows and gave me a look that had most freshmen scurrying to do his bidding. It didn't intimidate me though. I didn't really want to hear what he had to say.

  The crowd started dispersing after Josh's disappearance; a lot of them throwing me sulking glances, like it was my fault that Coach had stopped Josh from kicking my ass. I shook my head and watched them leave. Sawyer opened and closed her locker next to mine and shook her head as well. "Never a dull moment around you, is it?"

  I looked over to her, wanting to explain and also not wanting to explain. Finally, I felt a little information was called for. I sighed softly as I said, "My best friend Darren was in the crash, as well as his girlfriend Sammy. " I nodded my head in the direction Josh went. "That's his little brother. "

  Sawyer turned to look at the direction he'd gone before swinging her dark hair around to look at me again. Her gray eyes were narrowed in anger and I interpreted her look. "Yeah, he blames me for killing him. " I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes. "We all used to be friends and now he hates me. . . spreads lies about me. " I was positive that more than a few of the rumors around the town were continually circulated because of Josh, and after he'd witnessed the tender moment between Sawyer and me, I was positive that rumors would be flying now about her as well. It wouldn't surprise me if by the end of the day I'd "knocked" Sawyer up. Pretty funny, considering I was still a virgin.

  Sawyer's tone matched the heat I'd seen in her eyes. "No offense to your hometown, Lucas, but I sort of hate these people. "

  I cracked my eyes open and looked down at her cutely angry face. I smiled a little watching her, thinking that her irritation looked sort of like the female version of Darren's. "Yeah. . . sometimes I do too. " I straightened and pushed myself away from the lockers, deciding right at that moment to not use them. I'd rather lug around a heavy bag. "One more year. . . that's all I have to give this place. "

  She finally smiled at me and together, we made our way to Math class.