Chapter 20
Fixing a Mistake
I jerked awake, simultaneously gasping for air and begging for Lillian to stay. Silence and darkness answered me as I struggled to reject reality and return to my fantasy, or my nightmare, depending on how you looked at it. Losing all of my friends in rapid-fire succession like that, had ripped a hole straight through me. My chest ached as badly as it had the night of the crash. It was like it was happening again - like I was losing them all again. Only this time, it oddly felt permanent. I knew I'd never see them again.
Panic seized me, and my gasps for breaths turned into a full on attack. I couldn't breathe. I struggled with the physical discomfort of that, but it was nothing compared to the hole tearing open in my chest. That wound was still searing along the edges, like acid had been poured over the top of me, eating me alive.
I twisted and turned in the bed, clutching at anything I could - cool sheets, silky hair, soft skin. I heard a vague voice shushing me and asking what was wrong, but the pounding of blood rushing through my ears was too intense to really pay attention to the voice. Besides, my friend's voices were vibrating through my skull:
"You need to let us go if you're ever going to heal. Don't forget that you lived. I love you. . . always, but. . . we can't be together. . . . "
I turned and jerked on the bed while small hands tried to still my shaking body. Unfortunately, Sawyer's bed was smaller than mine, and in my near maniacal twisting I fell right off the edge, landing painfully, face down, on the hard floor. I groaned as what little air I had inside of me was forcefully pushed from my lungs. Taking small breaths when I could, I stayed where I was on the ground.
Sawyer immediately sprinted to my side, her arms encasing me. Her worried face looked me over and then looked upstairs; my fall hadn't exactly been quiet. Her face dropped back to me but I couldn't make out her features anymore. She was blurry, like a mirage, as my eyes filled with unstoppable tears.
"We can't be together. . . "
I choked and sputtered, trying to sob and speak at the same time. The only words I could understand coming from my mouth were, "don't leave. . . please. . . don't leave me. . . " Sawyer gathered me in her arms, pulling my limp body to my knees and rocking me, quietly reassuring me that she never would. I didn't know how to tell her that I didn't mean her. I didn't know how to tell her that I'd just lost everyone I loved. . . aside from her.
After what felt like an eternity of embarrassing blubbering, I numbly dropped my head to her shoulder. I felt drained, empty inside. I had nothing left now, nothing to look forward to, just long days of various forms of torture, and endless nights of. . . nothingness. They were all gone. . . and I knew I wouldn't be able to call them to me anymore.
"We can't be together. . . "
Sawyer sat on her knees before me, holding me tight and stroking my back. When she felt my breathing return to some normalcy, she pulled back, her hands drying and cupping my cheeks. Her eyes glistened with sympathetic tears at the look on my face. I imagined that if the look was anywhere near how I felt, then I probably resembled walking death. Well, kneeling death anyway.
Swallowing, she started stroking my cheeks. "Oh, Lucas. . . I'm so sorry," she whispered.
I scrunched my brows and tilted my head. My grief soaked brain couldn't comprehend what she was possibly sorry for. Interpreting my confused look, she shook her head and said, "You dreamed of the crash again? You dreamed of what you remember?"
I shook my head at her, for once actually wishing that I'd had that dream again. That dream would have been downright cheery compared to the one I'd had - the one that had just altered my future from this moment forward. I found my voice creaking out of me, in answer to her question that wasn't really a question.
"No. . . she broke up with me. She left me. . . they all left me. " I felt more tears drop from my eyes to splash on Sawyer's fingers. I didn't care. What did I care about embarrassing tears anymore? What day from now on would have anything but embarrassing tears?
In a sort of overwhelmed trance, I watched her mouth fall open. I wondered if she'd feel sympathy for me. . . or agree with my friend's decision. Good for them for leaving my insane ass. I bristled at the idea of yet another person deciding what the best path for me was - I'd been perfectly happy with my delusional life - and stood awkwardly, before she could respond.
"I need to go home. . . can you take me?"
She stood, putting a hand on my arm and looking out the window. It was still fairly dark outside, but the sun had risen and an amber light was starting to brighten the world. She turned back to me and nodded. "My parents probably won't be up yet. I'll just leave a note, telling them that I wanted to return the dress as soon as possible. "
I nodded, barely hearing her as my thoughts swirled. I wasn't sure why I wanted to be home, but honestly, I didn't know where to go to make this despair that was building inside of me end. Home seemed as good a place as any.
I changed back into my dirty clothes while Sawyer dressed in the bathroom. When she came out, she looked me over and then gave me a swift hug before grabbing my mom's dress and telling me she'd meet me outside by her car. I felt myself nod in response, but my entire body was sort of slumped down. I felt defeated. I felt like that dream version of me that had gotten his head bashed in by Josh. Only this time, my best friends had done the bashing.
When she disappeared up the stairs, I crawled out the window. I glumly walked over to her car, opened the unlocked door and got inside, not really caring if her parents spotted me out here or not. She came out her front door a few moments later and joined me. I could feel her eyes on me, but I ignored it, studying the muddy stains on my knees instead. One kind of looked like the rock Josh had killed me with last night.
She cleared her throat. "Luc. . . "
I didn't respond and she sighed then started her car. I didn't look up as she turned her car around and started out to my house. I didn't even look to see if her parents had heard her car start and turned on their bedroom light, wondering what their baby girl was up to. I just couldn't find it within myself to care anymore.
"We can't be together. . . "
Time flashed forward in an almost surreal way, and what seemed like only seconds later, she was shutting her car off in my driveway. I blinked and looked over at her. She looked worried and I wondered if I still looked like death, or maybe like the undead would be a better description. Like my body was being animated by some mindless creature, for certainly my soul was gone. My friends had succeeded in ripping that to pieces. What months of torture at the hands of Josh and the townspeople hadn't accomplished, my friends had managed in one night - they'd shattered me. Broken my spirit and left me billowing in the wind. . . alone.
Sawyer said my name again and again, but I still didn't respond. I didn't know what to say anyway. Was there anything I could say that wouldn't hurt her further? Was there anything I could say that wouldn't hurt me further? I grabbed my mom's dress from the back seat and turned away from her, opening my door.
She mildly surprised me by opening hers as well. Some tiny speck of my brain wanted her to rush home before her parents discovered she was missing. . . the majority of my brain didn't care anymore. She followed me to my doorstep, saying my name a couple more times. Each time the syllables crossed her lips, more tension crept into her voice. I still remained silent.
I remained silent until I walked into the living room, tossing my mom's dress on the couch unceremoniously. It was my mom that broke my silence. She stormed down the hall once she heard the front door open. Her eyes were wide and red as she met mine. I gazed at her blankly, remembering all the vile things Josh had yelled at me about her. I didn't know if they were true. . . but I had a horrid fireball twisting in my stomach that they were. That expanding ball burned away some of my melancholy, as it thawed some of the ache around my heart.
I narrowed my eyes at her as she stormed right up to me. "Mother,"
I said flatly. She ignored my tone and flicked her eyes up and down me, like she was searching for injuries.
"Are you just getting home? Where have you been?" Her hand flashed back to my bedroom. "I just went to check on you before I had to leave on an errand, and your bed hadn't been slept in. " A tear rolled down her cheek as her voice hitched. "Do you have any idea how terrified I was, Lucas! Where were you?"
I heard Sawyer behind me shift and clear her throat. She started to say my mom's name, but I cut her off. Ignoring my mom's question, and the tears on her worn face, I calmly said, "Isn't it a little early for errands?"
That startled my mom and she pulled her head back, appraising me. "I. . . I just had something I had to. . . " Her hand came up with a parental "listen to me" finger wag. "Don't distract me by changing the subject - where were you?"
I cocked my head to the side, deciding to set the tone for this conversation by being honest. Maybe if I did it, so would she. "I spent the night at Sawyer's house. . . in bed with her. " I heard Sawyer gasp behind me at how I'd phrased our innocuous sleeping arrangement.
Mom paled and glanced back at Sawyer, clearly not expecting my admission, and being a little surprised by it. She stuttered a bit as she considered what to say on the matter. Curious, I let her flounder for words, not clarifying what we'd actually done. . . or hadn't done.
"Well. . . I don't. . . You can't. . . You're too young. " Her face turned considerably pinker as she looked back at Sawyer. I didn't look with her, but I was pretty sure Sawyer was bright red. The anger-despair mix in my belly prevented me from feeling guilty about that. Mom turned back to me. "You're both too young for that, Lucas. We should. . . sit. . . and talk. . . "
Her voice trailed off as I smirked. "About what, Mom? Sex?" I shrugged after I said that, not feeling the embarrassment those words spouted at my mom would have normally given me. I felt Sawyer put her hand on my arm. She'd apparently caught up to where I was going with this conversation.
"Luc. . . don't. Not like this. . . " I heard her mutter lowly. My mom heard her too and shifted her gaze.
I brought her identical eyes back to mine with my next comment. "What can you teach me about sex, Mom? Especially about not having it?" I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back on a hip. Sawyer begged me to stop this, but I couldn't. If I shut off the flood of anger I was feeling towards my mom. . . the grief would wash back in, and drown me.
I sniffed and waited for her answer. Her face paled again as she looked over mine. She licked her lips and smoothed back her ponytail. All signs of guilt. My eyes narrowed further as her actions more and more confirmed my suspicions. "What are you talking about, Luc?"
I leaned into her and she took a step back. "What errand were you running?" She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. I took a step towards her, ignoring Sawyer's plea for me to step outside with her. "Did you have another early morning meeting to get to?"
Sudden memories of her anxiously waiting for Sawyer to pick me up, or her dashing out of the house nearly an hour before her shift, flooded my brain. The pieces were starting to fit. "You look tired. . . anymore late night visitors keeping you up?" That memory flooded me too, and I wondered who really was here that night. . . and if that had been the first time, or just the only time I'd heard it.
She took a step back, shaking her head and stammering. "What are. . . ? Why are you. . . ? What are you really asking me?" Her voice was barely audible.
I took another step towards her. Sawyer begged me not to say it, but I needed to know. I needed the truth. I said it.
"I'm asking you, if you're fucking the sheriff. If you're the whore that everyone thinks you are. . . "
I really hadn't been sure if the rumor Josh had ruthlessly spouted was true or not. Lord knows lies spread like wildfire around here, but the pieces had started fitting more and more with each passing second - the morning meetings, laughing with the mysterious late night visitor, the looks that passed between my mom and him at the diner, the familiar use of their first names, odd, too friendly touches, his frequent visits over the summer, the way he always called me Lucas, when everyone else was referred to by last name. . . the way he said he'd look out for me the night of the crash. If it was true, then it all made sense now. And as I watched my mom's face pale to a near ghostly white, her mouth dropping open and her eyes starting to water, I knew that it was true. My mom was sleeping with the sheriff. No, sleeping was a misnomer; my mom was screwing the sheriff, no sleeping involved.
Her momentary shock wore off and her face suddenly hardened, her hands clenching into fists like she wanted to hit me. She took a step towards me until she was right in my face. I didn't back down. "You do NOT talk to me that way, Lucas Michael West!"
Sawyer pulled my shoulder back and I could hear her lightly crying. I ignored it and focused on the woman before me, who had been my shining example of what a human should be. She looked faded to me now. "But it's true! Isn't it! You're sleeping with him and that's why I'm not in jail!"
She held her breath as she took a step away from me. I could see the debate in her eyes. She'd lied about this for so long, that she still naturally wanted to lie about it. Fire burned even hotter in me that she'd even consider lying to me now. She looked over my heated expression and finally let out a long exhale, stepping back again as her shoulders slumped in defeat. Barely above a whisper, she murmured, "Yes, Lucas. . . it's true. "
My mouth dropped open and a slice of pain went right through me. Even though I knew. . . it was hard to hear it. I shook my head, feeling Sawyer's hand on my shoulder turn comforting. In a softer voice I said, "How could you? How could you lie to me. . . all this time?"
She dropped her head, and as more amber rays lit the room, I could see a sparkling tear drop to the floor. "Lucas. . . you wouldn't understand. "
My fists clenched as pain shifted back to anger. "You're right, I don't. Did you start something with him, just to keep me out of trouble? Was that the deal?"
Her head shot up and I felt Sawyer rest her head on my arm and ask me to be gentle. I ignored it and focused on the suddenly irate eyes before me. "No! There was no. . . deal. I didn't ask him to do anything, Luc. " She shook her head and flung her hands out to her sides. "We were together long before. . . "
My eyes widened at that and she stopped talking. "You were together before. . . ? How long have you. . . " I couldn't even comprehend that my mom may have been lying to me for. . . years.
Her entire body slumped and she sat heavily onto the arm of the couch, her hands momentarily coming up to cover her face before dropping into her lap. "We've been seeing each other for five years, Luc. . . " Her eyes aged another decade as she looked up at me.
My entire body slumped at her words. I thought I might drop to the ground, but Sawyer ducked under my shoulder and somehow I remained upright. Five years? She's been lying to me since I was twelve? Slowly shaking my head, I could only say, "Mom. . . he's married. . . "
She dropped her head and a sob escaped her. Sawyer patted my chest as I watched my mom's tears fall. The fire in my stomach twisted into something putrid and painful. I felt like I might be sick. I felt like I wanted to run. Why was everyone I believed in letting me down?
"I know, Luc. . . that's why I had to lie. " She looked back up at me, hers eyes begging for my understanding. "I hated to do that to you, but you were so young. I couldn't tell you. . . "
Sawyer murmured that she should leave us alone and I grasped her hand, hard. I couldn't take her walking out that door right now. Sensing that, she stayed. Drained and confused, I couldn't take standing in place any longer either. I shuffled over to the couch, dragging Sawyer with me, and sat down heavily into the spot farthest from my mom. She immediately turned on the arm to plop onto the cushion, twisting to face me. Sawyer knelt at my feet, resting her head on her arm over my legs, giving me what comfort she could. Unconsciously, I put my hand on her back, drawing warmth from her, since I felt like I had n
one of my own left.
A horrid, silent tension built in the room as everyone looked at me, waiting for my reaction. Feeling numb, I could only stare at my mom blankly. Not knowing what else to comment on, I picked the one thing that seemed the most irrelevant. "He's so much older than you, Mom. . . like fifteen or twenty years. "
She blushed and looked down at the cushion separating us. "I know, Luc. That doesn't matter to me. " She looked back up at me and whispered, "I love him. "
I shook my head and looked down to Sawyer, who was looking up at me with wet, concerned eyes. I stroked her back while I thought of my mom getting it on with a man who could almost be my grandfather. It wasn't a pleasant thought and it did nothing for my stomach. I could barely believe that this was reality. It felt like life was the dream, the nightmare. The one person who had been my example of morality my entire life, was having an affair with a married man. It blew my mind. I knew my dad was a louse, but my mom. . . ? Maybe I'd put her on a pedestal, but up until know she'd deserved one. Up until now, she'd been a Saint.
I looked back over at her. "It's like I don't even know you. . . " I whispered.
Her eyes were pained as she softly sobbed my name. "Lucas. . . "
I shook my head, ignoring the ache in my heart, concentrating on the fire. "What about his wife? How could you do that to her?" My brows bunched together as I pictured the sheriff's gray-haired spouse, home alone, watching the windows and waiting for her faithful public servant to return to her. I wondered if she knew that her public servant was routinely "protecting and serving" my mother.
My mother sniffed and met my eye. "I'm not proud of this, Lucas, and we certainly didn't plan to fall in love. . . " She shook her head as another tear fell to her cheek. "It doesn't excuse it. . . but his wife has been really sick for years. He takes care of her the best he can, but there hasn't been anything between them for a long time. " Her eyes gave me that pleading look again.
I narrowed my eyes at her, shaking my head. "They're still married, Mom. He should divorce her if he wants to be with you. "
She sighed. "It's not that simple, Luc. He does love her. . . in a way, and she's very frail. " She shook her head, a clearly adoring look washing over her. "He doesn't want to risk her health by turning her world upside down. We keep it quiet and discreet, so she can live out whatever life she has left in peace. "
I gave her a blank stare. "Oh. My. God. You're one of them. " She blinked at me, cocking her head. I gestured a hand at her disdainfully. "You're one of those women that believes everything the philanderer says. . . because he 'loves' them, and surely he'll eventually leave his wife. " I couldn't even hide the contempt leaking into my voice and Sawyer tightened a hand on my knee. "Don't tell me you seriously believe that line?"
My mom's gaping mouth shifted from Sawyer, to me, and then back to Sawyer. Finally she looked up at me and sputtered, "It's not a line. He does. . . he does love me. He's been good to me. " Her eyes hardened as they swept over my face. "And very few men in this world have been good to me!"
I turned away from her clear reference to my long absent father. His leaving had scarred my mom in ways I probably couldn't imagine. Although, with how my chest still felt like the insides had been scooped out with a dull spoon, I was more and more beginning to understand the pain of being abandoned.
Seeing my reaction to her words she whispered, "He's a good man, Lucas. . . maybe you could give him a chance?"
My head snapped back to her. "Oh yeah, a real shining example. " Even as I said it, I could feel the hypocrisy in my words. Was I really getting after a man for cheating on his significant other? Hadn't I done the same? Hadn't I betrayed Lil by making out with Sawyer? Sure, we hadn't technically had sex, but it was one of the most intimate moments of my life. . . and I'd hurt someone I loved by doing it. Who was I to condemn the sheriff? Or my mom. . .
I closed my eyes as thoughts of Lillian swarmed through me.
"We can't be together. . . "
I felt the despair creeping back, my eyes starting to sting, and frantically grabbed at the lingering fire in my system - anything to hold back the crushing pain. My mother's irritated voice helped stoke that fire, and I reopened my eyes to find her nearly glaring at me. "I don't expect you to understand. . . you are only a child. But someday, you might. "
I bristled at her condescending use of the word 'child' and felt my hand clench the fabric of Sawyer's shirt. Her hand came up to stroke my arm in response and I relaxed my grip, never taking my eyes off my mom's.
Her face softened as she slumped into the couch. "Where did you hear about it?"
Keeping my voice flat, I told her, "At the dance. People know. . . they all know. . . " I wasn't actually sure how widespread the rumor was, but it sure explained why people didn't believe I was innocent. They believed my mom's lover had covered it up. . . they just hadn't had any proof.
She closed her eyes. "Oh god. . . "
I looked over the defeat on her face, and thought about how the town viewed me, how Josh viewed me - a monster, a horrid creature, that had slain my friends and walked away with absolutely no consequences. Staring straight ahead of me, I whispered, "Are you why I didn't get in trouble?"
I heard her answer me but didn't look over, instead keeping my eyes focused on the empty space on the wall above the television set, a spot that used to hold pictures of my friends and I, before Mom had taken them all down. "Oh, Luc. . . you tested clean at the hospital. . . "
I finally did look over at her. She was worrying her lip and searching my eyes. Her small hands were clasping each other so tight, they were nearly white. "There were a half-dozen things he could have charged me for. " I shrugged my shoulders, irritated and pained at talking about that night. "We had an open beer in the car, Mom. He should have given me a MIP at the very least, reckless driving at the most, or even, I don't know, manslaughter. " I shook my head.
Her gaze turned sympathetic and she stretched her arm across the space between us to touch my shoulder. I made myself not pull away. "Lucas. . . you just lost your friends, he didn't feel like he needed to punish you even more. "
Then I did pull away, giving her an exasperated look. "Mom?"
She let her hand drop to the couch and she hung her head. Sawyer squeezed my knee again as my mom whispered, "I don't know, Luc. . . maybe. " She looked up, more tears falling from her eyes. "I didn't ask him to. "
So there it was. I wasn't being punished for my horrific crime because my mom was spreading her legs. A part of my brain knew I wasn't being fair, a part of my brain knew I was oversimplifying things, but the fire in my stomach pushed all those rational thoughts aside. My despair crept up my chest to merge with that fire shooting through my veins.
"I murdered all my friends and got away with it because of you!" I heard my mom and Sawyer start to object to the word "murder", but I cut them off, "No wonder everyone hates me!" Rage, fear, panic and depression, flooded all of my senses, and I stood up and turned to face them on the couch, feeling like nothing was real anymore. I glared over at my mom. "It wasn't supposed to happen that way!"
Sawyer stood and placed her hand on my chest, begging me to calm down. My mom stood and put a hand on my arm, her eyes begging for me to relax as well. "I know, Lucas. . . none of it was supposed to happen. "
I took a step away from both of them, running my hands through my hair. I felt like I was going to explode. Everything I knew was falling apart. I hated this. . . I hated life. I wanted my dream life again, but even that was gone from me now. Everything was gone. . .
"We can't be together. . . while you're still alive. . . "
That was when my brain snapped. I swear, I felt the exact moment that some neuron misfired and a section of my head imploded, as the emotional strain heaped upon it finally broke me. It was a profoundly intense experience for me, and in that moment of breakage, a moment of clarity hit me. Words from my counselor that had been nipping away at my subconsci
ous suddenly bloomed into life right before my eyes. They mixed with Lillian's last fateful words and suddenly, I understood what I'd been trying to grasp. Suddenly, I knew exactly why everything in my life was such a challenge - why everything was so hard.
"Do you think life ever makes mistakes?"
"Sure, all the time. Some people live who shouldn't. . . and even more people die who shouldn't. "
I knew Mrs. Ryans had meant to stress the latter half of that sentence, but it was the first half that had plagued my brain. It was the first half that now made perfect sense to me when put in combination with Lillian's words. Of course, it was all so obvious now. Some people live who shouldn't. I was never meant to have survived that crash. Life had made a mistake.
One that I could fix.
Letting my hands fall to my sides, I looked from one woman to the other. Clarity and determination filled me. I could fix this. I could correct life's mistake. I could find peace. Fixing my gaze on my mom, I calmly told her, "No. . . my living wasn't supposed to happen. I was never supposed to have survived. "
Her mouth dropped, her face going whiter than it had all morning, and she sputtered for words. I didn't let her find any. I immediately turned to Sawyer, thrust my hand into her jeans pocket and wrapped my fingers around her car keys. Before she could react, I jerked my hand out of her pocket, told her I was sorry, and bolted for the front door.
I heard both of them tell me to wait as I jerked the door open. I heard the tension and concern in their voices and I heard a long sob as the door slammed shut behind me. But it didn't matter, it was too late. An error had been made, a grievous one, and I couldn't let it go unresolved.
It all made sense now. Why I couldn't fit in at school. Why I could barely talk to anyone, save Sawyer. Why at times, I barely even felt human anymore. I'd survived something I wasn't meant to. I actually had died that day in the ravine. My soul, my spirit, my life-force - whatever you want to call it, had moved on, but somehow, my body had walked away. I'd been drifting aimlessly, torn between the two worlds. I'd tried to fill the void in my life by recreating my friends in a dreamscape, but that was only a patch, and they were right anyway. I couldn't continue on like that. I needed to fix what life had messed up. I needed to be with them. . . fully.
"We can't be together. . . while you're still alive. . . "
Soon Lil. . . very soon. . .
I scrambled down the front steps, flipping the keys for the one that looked like a car key. I found it and clutched it hard, feeling the unforgiving metal bite into my skin. I opened an unlocked car door and blinked when I realized I'd automatically opened the passenger's side. I'd been so used to not driving, that it was now going to have to be a conscious decision to do it. I swallowed and stared at the steering wheel. Of everything I was going to do today, this would probably be the easiest. My heart still spiked though.
I slammed shut the door and turned to sprint to the other side. That's when Sawyer caught up to me. She slammed into my body, knocking both of my shoulders back until I sat down onto the hood of the car. My mom stood a few paces behind her, fear in her eyes and tears on her cheeks. I startled at my new position and looked up at Sawyer, kind of irritated.
She was irritated too, but I saw the fear behind it. I saw the abject terror brimming behind her watery eyes. "What are you doing?" Her voice was forced, like she had really wanted to yell that at me.
I stood up and put a hand on her shoulder. She pulled back from me, trying to keep her glare, trying to hold onto her anger, so she wouldn't break down. I completely understood that feeling. I'd done it myself only moments ago. Checking my emotions, I was a little surprised that both my anger and my fear had dissolved. I felt nothing but peace. I hoped Sawyer would understand why I had to do this. . . she really was the best thing I had here, but I couldn't stay. I wasn't meant to.
"Sawyer. . . I have to do this. Please, try and understand. " My voice was as calm and peaceful as I felt, but Sawyer only gaped at me, looking hopelessly confused and scared. I brought my hand to her cheek, her tears falling now.
My mother broke out in a sob and jabbed her finger at Sawyer. "I'm calling Sheriff Whitney! Do NOT let him leave until Neil gets here, Sawyer!" She turned and dashed into the house, and I knew the timer on how long I had to leave had just been set. I could fight off Sawyer and my mom. . . but the sheriff?
"Lucas. . . " she muttered, her hand coming up to my chest, clutching at my stained dress shirt. I remembered then that I was still dressed nice and a small smile touched my mouth. Fitting. I should be dressed nice for this occasion. It was sort of a special day. At least I'd looked good when I saw Lil again. Now I sort of wished I'd gone with a tie after all.
Sawyer frowned at my smile and I lightly shook my head, resting it against hers. With as much conviction as I could, I whispered, "I finally understand. It hurts so much. Life. . . it hurts so much. I don't feel like I belong in it. Ever since the crash, I haven't felt like I should be here and now I know why. " I pulled back to look at her, the pain in her eyes making me ache, but not changing my resolve. No matter what, I had to right this wrong. I had to set life back on its correct course.
"Luc. . . I don't understand. You're just where you're supposed to be. . . " A sob escaped her and I clutched her close to me, shifting us, so she was facing the car and I was free from it. Her hands went up to my cheeks as our heads stayed pressed against each other. I closed my eyes. I would miss her, so much, but she was better off with someone else anyway, someone completely a part of this world.
"No, Sawyer. Life, God, fate. . . I don't know, but someone made a mistake, and I was never supposed to have survived that crash. That's why my dreams feel so real, that's why I'm so drawn to them. I'm supposed to be with them, with Lillian. "
Rain started falling then, and not the soft, gentle rain of a spring storm. No, the heavy, hard rain of a winter onslaught. The drops around us were huge and plentiful, and within seconds, the tops of our shirts were drenched. I inwardly smiled at how similar this rain was to that fateful night. It was like the universe understood my intent, and was helping me to fix its mistake. Even more peace and self assurance went through me. This was right. . . this was meant to be.
She tilted her head and eyed me cautiously, the rain dripping down her face, only highlighting those wide, worried, slightly almond eyes. "What are you saying, Lucas?" One of her hands dropped from my cheek and trailed down my arm, the arm with the hand currently death-gripping the car key.
Knowing my time was almost up, and knowing Sawyer was about to make her move to stop me, I leaned forward and brought my lips to hers, giving her the one last thing I could, even though she deserved so much better. Her hand came back up to my face as our mouths moved together. She held me close and a sob escaped her. I tasted tears along with the natural sweet taste of her, as the rain mixed the two liquids and washed over our bodies. I knew she could feel the goodbye in my kiss, I felt it too. I knew this would be it for us, and I prayed that the next few months for her weren't too painful. I never wanted to hurt her. . . and that's all I ever seemed to do. Yet another reason she was better off without me.
Mentally steeling myself, I did something I wasn't proud of, but it needed to be done. . . for her sake. She needed to let me go. She needed a better life, with a better man. That thought echoing in my head, I brought my hands up to her shoulders and shoved her back, hard. Shock was on her face as she hit the side of her car, missing the hood and falling heavily to the hard ground. I didn't stay to make sure she was okay, I didn't have time. I dashed around to the driver's side door and once inside, immediately locked it and then stretched over to the passenger's side, locking it as well.
As I sat up, Sawyer was standing at the driver's door, tears streaming along with the rain. She clutched at the door handle frantically, screaming my name. I put my hand on the glass and stared at her remorsefully. I regretted ever causing this beautiful woman pain and I hoped she knew that
. I hoped she knew how I felt about her, that she knew she was the only thing that had brightened my life over the past few months, and that I did indeed love her. I still had to do this though. . .
She put her hand on the glass, flexing her fingers like she was trying to lace our hands together through the cold, wet barrier. I removed my hand and, out of habit, buckled my seatbelt. I paused with the key just touching the ignition, a brief moment of fear, mixed with determination and anticipation, coursing through me. It settled into peace almost instantly. This was right. . . I had no reason to fear it. Her eyes widened as she watched my fingers insert the keys and then she started pounding on the glass, maybe trying to break through the door.
"What are you gonna do, Luc?" she yelled at me, her face frantic.
I stared at her terrified eyes for a brief moment before answering her. "I'm only fixing a mistake. " I turned the keys and started the car, never taking my eyes from Sawyer.
Her hands pounded ruthlessly on the glass as the engine roared to life; I was sure she'd have bruises tomorrow. "What are you gonna do?" she yelled again, the tears welling in her eyes almost indistinguishable from the heavy drops falling around her.
A moment of grief welled in me, she was the only one I'd truly miss, the only one that had never let me down. No, all of the letting down in our relationship had come from me. 'I'm sorry', I mouthed to her.
She shook her head, muttering, "No, please. . . don't. " From the corner of my eye, I saw the front door of my house open and knew my mom was soon to be flying down the stairs and throwing herself on top of the car if need be. I didn't want that.
I slammed the car into reverse, peeling out of the wet driveway in my haste. My mom ran to the spot I'd just been, screaming at me. Sawyer covered her mouth with her hands, shaking her head in horror. And then I took off, leaving them both in the driveway, in a downpour, looking terrified and distraught. I felt bad for the fear they had, and for the pain I knew they'd both go through once I'd finished this, but I had to finish it. I was never supposed to have survived that crash. That's why life had been so hard and my dreams had felt more real to me. I wasn't supposed to be here. One day, I was sure they'd both see that.
I drove more steadily than I'd ever believed I could. The rain sheeted down my windshield as I flew out of the city limits, out onto that fateful highway. The onslaught brought on memories of that night. They tumbled through my brain, one after another, each one only solidifying my decision - I was never supposed to have survived. I saw that now. The tiny disco ball on Sawyer's rearview mirror gently swung back and forth, like it was agreeing with my conclusion.
I wasn't sure if I'd be able to find the same exact spot in the road where I'd gone over the rail, it had been dark and pouring that night, but then, like a flaming neon sign, the bend came into focus. It seemed to glow to me. Faint, black lines on the asphalt from Darren's Geo were suddenly huge landing lights, showing me exactly where I needed to go over the edge, the exact point of contact, highlighted by a makeshift memorial that some of the kids at school must have created. It was supposed to be honorary, for the lives lost, but it was about to be a bull's-eye for another life, that needed to be lost.
As I drove past the bend, I could see that the weakened guard rail that I'd busted through the first time had been replaced. It looked strong and sturdy now. But I was no longer in a cheap, Styrofoam beginner's car. I was in a revved up muscle car and given enough speed, I'd slice through that metal like butter. And this time, my goal was speed. This time, brakes were the last thing on my mind.
I turned the car around so I could approach the bend from the same direction I had that night. I wanted everything to be the same, I wanted to perfectly recreate that moment - set the timeline straight. If I could have, I'd of stayed out here until nightfall, so it would be just as dark as the first time. I didn't have that kind of time though. Either my mom, Sawyer or the sheriff would find me before then. I would just have to settle for the hazy, gray overcast light of this rainy morning. Oh well, it helped me see exactly where I needed to go anyway.
I stopped the car a half mile from the bend and stared at it. My demon. It was like staring down at the darkest part of myself. This is where my life had turned one eighty. This is where my life had ended. This is where my life would end. I unbuckled my seat belt.
This time. . . it would end.