Chapter 22
How Different the World Can Look
Sawyer didn't leave my side much during break. Either I was at her house, in her near-dorm downstairs, or she was hanging with me at mine. It had taken a bit of effort to get that kind of clearance for her; her parents had been furious when they'd woken up the morning of my "attempt" and discovered her gone. It had taken my mother going over there (with Sheriff Whitney no less) to convince them that Sawyer had saved my life, and shouldn't be punished for it. Of course, none of us mentioned that I'd spent the previous night in bed with her. Leniency only went so far, after all.
After that revelation, her parents were far more encouraging of our relationship. They engaged me more when I came over and I tried to be engaging in return. Sometimes it felt forced, like when we were all seated at dinner and they started discussing what Sawyer had done for me. I could tell they were proud of her, and while being respectful to me, avoiding any of the actual reasons I'd even tried the attempt, an icy ball knotted my stomach. Only Sawyer's hand on my skin made it melt.
The free time we spent alone together, was usually spent talking. Once she and Beth had finally gotten me to open up, I couldn't seem to shut up. I went over every aspect of the crash with Sawyer, her constantly assuring me that it had only been a horrid accident that could have happened to anyone. I also went over every dream with her - every nightmare and every fantasy. I'd wanted to skip over the ones with Lil, but with a warm hand on my back, Sawyer had encouraged me to not leave her out, since she'd been so vastly important to me. So I didn't. I went over every intimacy and every desire I'd ever had. Sawyer's cheeks flushed and she studied her hands. . . but she listened.
Surprisingly it helped. I'm not sure why. I don't know why the simple act of sharing your burden with someone else makes it lighter, but I certainly felt that way. I completely lost the desire I'd had to drive out to that bend. . . or even see it again, really. That's not to say that everything in my life was instantly perfect, but I no longer felt the need to "fix the mistake" as I'd so naively put it.
I cringed whenever I thought about what I'd almost done, what I would have done if Sawyer hadn't stopped me. I'd been so sure. I'd been absolutely positive that what I'd been about to do was the correct path for me. I'd had no real reservations about ending my life, and that knowledge gave me chills. The fact that Sawyer knew, and had gone through a decision as equally chilling as mine, bonded us in a way that surpassed the relatively short amount of time we'd known each other. It was as if our shared tragedies had fast forwarded us into a relationship that felt as if it had been going on our entire lives. She was my best friend. No one understood me like her and no one else probably ever would. And as our talks started ending with passionate kisses, I began to understand that she would be my friend and my lover. She would be my first. . . I was positive of that.
When my healing time of peace with Sawyer was over and the New Year came around, we went back to school. I was nervous the first day. I'd left sort of a mess behind from the night of the dance and I had no idea what to expect from people. But Sawyer clenched my hand, silently vowing to never leave my side, even when we had to be apart.
The first person we saw from that night was Randy. He was standing outside of the main building, kicking a clump of grass showing itself through a crack. I let out a long exhale when I saw him, but then straightened myself and made my body approach him. I'd suffered worse lately, I could handle this.
He looked up when he felt us standing in front of him. His eyes widened as they met mine and I fully realized at his surprise that it had been a long time since I'd willingly looked him squarely in the eye. In fact, it may have been the first time all year that I'd purposefully held someone's gaze. He started talking immediately.
"Hey, Luc, I'm so sorry about. . . the thing in Astronomy. . . " His voice trailed off and I made myself not cringe. The "thing" he referenced so simply, had made me look like an idiot and gotten me kicked out of school temporarily.
Deciding that none of that mattered, I tightened my hold on Sawyer's hand and let a soft smile reach my lips. "It's okay, Randy. I understand that you didn't know what you were really doing to me. . . and I forgive you. " I clapped a hand on his shoulder and walked away. I exhaled a quick breath as I entered into the main building. Looking back, I saw Randy eyeing me through the door. He still looked really guilty, but he did have a slight smile on his lips. He nodded at me through the door and I turned my attentions back to Sawyer, who was beaming up at me.
"You did great. " She rested her chin on my shoulder as she looked up at me. I smiled and leaned down to her, resting my head against hers.
"Because of you," I whispered.
She frowned and shook her head, not seeming to want to take credit for me opening up. I smiled and cut off her objection. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, so I'm going to give you all the credit today. "
She sighed and rolled her eyes and I leaned down farther to press my lips to hers. Her fingers reached up to brush my cheek as our lips moved softly, but intently together. I could feel the stares of kids in the hall, but I pushed it out. Sawyer was mine and for once, I wanted them all to know that. I wouldn't hold anything back from her again.
Our make out session was abruptly interrupted by a hand on my shoulder. I broke off from her to look up at Coach. I cringed, remembering the last time I'd seen him. "Get to class, lovebirds," he gruffly barked at us.
Sawyer blanched at his tone, but I was used to his rough demeanor. Looking down at my feet for a second before deciding to hold his steely gaze, I, as stoically as I could, said, "Coach. . . am I in trouble?" I had punched another student after all, and, deserving or not, there had to be some sort of repercussion for that.
Coach's lip curled wryly. "For kissing? No, I think I'll let that slide. " He pointed a finger into my chest. "Just this once though. "
My brows bunched and I cocked my head at him, while Sawyer beside me giggled nervously. "No. . . for punching Josh at the dance," I said slowly.
Coach gave me a pointed look and crossed his arms over my chest. "I don't know what you're talking about, Luc. " I stammered and open and shut my mouth a few times. Coach sniffed and glanced up and down the hall. "It's like I told the principal, the fight was over by the time I got there. " His eyes flicked back to mine. "I didn't see or hear anything. . . so how would I know who got punched?"
A stream of stupid disbelieving noises left my mouth after that. He didn't hear anything? I was one hundred percent positive that that wasn't the case. But then, the coach was fair, if hard. He'd probably heard Josh verbally lead me straight into that fight. Who knows, maybe he felt like Josh got what he deserved. I kind of did.
Coach put a hand on my shoulder, his face brightening. "Well, we can always talk about this later. . . when you show up for baseball practice in a few weeks. " He clapped my shoulder and winked at me. I shook my head as I watched him walk away, one hundred percent positive that I'd be on the baseball team this spring.
As Sawyer and I walked up the stairs to class, I made myself pay attention to the people around us. One of the things Sawyer and I had talked about at length during break, was my habit of shutting down, of tuning out the world around me. She completely understood the desire, saying she'd done the same thing at her school, but it was warping my perception of people. I couldn't change the past, and I couldn't change what certain people believed of me, but as I opened my eyes and looked around, I saw that more people really did look at me with concern and curiosity than outright anger. It was sort of an eye opening experience for me.
I made myself give tight smiles and small nods to people I used to know very well. More often than not, I received a smile and nod in return. There were still whispers and gossip swirling as I walked down the hall, but what I noticed now, was that the talking didn't always stop when I walked by, and as I paid more attention, I could see that a lot of the conversations people we
re having. . . had nothing to do with me. I flushed a bit at how self absorbed I could be. But when you feel awful about yourself, it can seem like the entire world has their backs to you, whispering about you. . . condemning you. But how often is that really the case? Probably not as often as I'd believed. As I studied people in the halls, I started to understand that truth more and more. Mainly, I saw people going on about their own lives, wrapped up in their own drama, and most only registering me with a cursory glance.
That's not to say that everyone was talking about their own lives. A few heads were bent together in harsh whispers that stopped and turned into unblinking stares as I walked by. I even caught a few words in reference to my "revelation" - that I remembered the crash and had a version of those events that greatly differed from all the gossip. I was both relieved and pained to know that the truth was circulating amid the lies. I hoped the tide would start to shift now.
As we entered the classroom, I noticed the several sets of curious and thoughtful eyes. Those eyes took in my hand holding Sawyer's and I noticed a few smiles among the faces. I made myself meet every eye and smile back. That surprised quite a few of them and I started to wonder just how much I had shut down lately.
Ms. Reynolds gave us a warm greeting, her hand touching Sawyer's shoulder, her eyes studying mine. I gave her a genuine smile and a friendly nod. Sawyer's distant cousin had always been kind to me and I hadn't forgotten that. She spoke with us for a moment before class, asking how Sawyer's break went and how I'd been. I wasn't sure what she knew, but being family, I thought she probably knew a lot about what had really happened to me after I'd left the dance. I told her I was "better" and she gave me a warm smile in response.
Sawyer and I made our way to our seats, parting ways to go down our separate aisles. I stopped at Will's desk when I noticed his foot slip out to trip me. Inwardly I smiled - some things never change. I twisted to look him in the eye. He sat up straighter and gave me a defiant look in return. I let my inward smile show on my face. I'd dealt with much worse than tripping, it seemed near silly and childish to me now. A slight laugh escaping me, I pointed at his foot.
"Do you mind not tripping me anymore? It's kind of stupid. . . don't you think?"
A couple students seated near him laughed, Randy included. Will flushed and looked around, retracting his foot. "Whatever, Lucas," he glowered. Feeling magnanimous, I clapped his shoulder as I walked by. He seemed startled by that and turned to watch me walk back to Sawyer.
She was again beaming at me as I sat down. 'I love you,' she mouthed.
"I love you too," I said, loud enough for those around me to clearly hear. Her eyes looked around and her cheeks filled with a light, rosy color. It was beautiful on her. "Come here. " I leaned over, lifting my lips to her, and she smiled and leaned over as well. Our mouths met in the middle of the aisle and we shared a brief kiss in the middle of class.
Sawyer, Randy, Will and I, got called into the principal's office halfway through first period. That actually caused more of a stir among the students than Sawyer and I kissing. I met eyes with a few faces as I left, and was a little surprised with the sympathy I saw there. We were brought into the principal's office one-by-one and made to tell our version of the fight. While I'd been hoping that the school would just let it slide, it appeared that they weren't going to. They just weren't sure what happened. As I was the last one of our group to enter, I began to understand why they were so confused.
As I sat in the straight backed chair, I listened to the stern older woman before me as she gave me the conflicting details. As it turned out, there was a lot of debate over who had actually thrown the punch. Half of the witnesses claimed Josh did it, while the other half, claimed I struck him. Sawyer stuck by my side, saying Josh was a bully and cornered me. Will stuck by Josh, saying I flipped out and started wailing on him, and Randy said he missed the first half, but tried to stop Josh from attacking me. The rest of the student body that had been interviewed, was mixed between the views.
There were so many questions over the matter, that the principal decided not to suspend either of us for the fight. She ended up giving Josh and me a week of detention each instead, and ordered me more counseling, as well as a round of sessions for Josh. I'd been planning on continuing anyway, but it made me happy that Josh had to go now too. Truly that was for the best. He obviously had issues with his brother's death, and would never be a better person if a professional didn't step in and help him. And I was positive Beth could help him. One small benefit over the dissolution of our friendship, I suppose.
Josh was entering the outer office as I was leaving it. Sawyer, having waited for me after her meeting, stood up and eyed us both nervously. I held Josh's eye and he held mine. Neither of us spoke and an odd tension built up in the waiting room. Finally, and surprisingly, Josh looked down and muttered, "Sorry".
My mouth dropped in shock until I understood. While Coach had let me go with only a few words the night of the dance, he had held Josh back and had a "conversation" with him. Knowing full well just how intense a conversation with Coach could be, I figured Josh had had the fear of God put in him, much more so than the principal, with an empty threat of suspension, ever could. Josh wouldn't mind getting a short vacation from campus for fighting, but getting ousted from the team next year - now that was enough to have him licking just about anyone's heels.
He was still looking glumly at the ground as I walked around him to Sawyer. I grabbed her hand and made for the door. Stopping halfway through the open doorframe, I turned to look back at him. He was still staring at the floor, his head bent down. For a moment, I remembered the happy, smiling kid that used to hang off Darren's shoulders, wanting to be just like his big brother. Sadness entered me at how little of that person was left.
"I'm sorry, Josh. I loved him too. "
Josh lifted his head and looked back at me, tears in his eyes now. I swallowed at the sight, my own eyes watering. Josh only stared at me a moment, then nodded and made his way to the principal's office. Sawyer and I both exhaled together, squeezing each other's hands and preparing for the remainder of our day.
It went by smoother than I'd imagine it would. As I continued forcing myself to meet people's glances and acknowledge them with smiles or nods, they started feeling more comfortable around me. By Mr. Varner's class, some of the people around me, felt comfortable enough to ask me if what they'd heard about the dance was true - if I'd really confessed that I remembered everything, if I'd really been sober and the rain had really caused the wreck. It made a knot form in my stomach and I had to fight the natural urge to shut down and not tell them anything, but with Sawyer squeezing my knee, I finally did confess the truth around the events of that night.
Mr. Varner snapped at the room on more than a few occasions, as whispers of questions and consolations swirled around me, but by the time class was over, the people in it looked at me differently.
It was much the same in the remainder of my classes. Most people just had no idea what to believe and they'd taken my half-hearted denials, mixed with my silence, as an admission of guilt. It generally only took me explaining things once, for people's questioning glances to turn sympathetic. And I found that the more I talked about it, the easier it was to do that. Eventually, I didn't even tear up when people asked.
I was feeling a lot more comfortable in the school, and in all honesty, with myself, when I got to Astronomy. There was something healing in a handful of peers telling you that it was an accident, and you weren't to blame. There was also something soothing in those same students apologizing for thinking badly of me. It didn't make up for all the tiny tortures I'd endured, but it helped.
Don't get me wrong, not everyone instantly liked me again. As I walked through the halls or into the classrooms, there was still an occasional angry shake of the head and hard stare, but not everyone can be convinced of the truth. Some people will believe what they want to believe. Sometimes you have to
do that, just to make sense of the world. I understood that, and didn't hold it against anyone who felt the need to make me the villain. I just wasn't going to agree with them anymore. That was my goal anyway.
As I walked through the Astronomy doors, my eyes automatically went to Josh. He kept his head down, not looking at me. I nodded my head, accepting the truth of our relationship, and made my way to my seat. I didn't know if Josh finally believed me, but I knew he'd finally leave me alone. I found what solace in that that I could, and silently wished him well as I watched him throughout class.
A few more people came up to me afterwards, and I made myself talk with them, being as open and honest as I could. One or two offered to walk me to my next class and I conceded, not sure if I wanted the company, but wanting to fit back in with people. They chatted about events in their lives and I nodded and supplied a few 'I'm listening' responses. My thoughts were more on Josh though, as I watched him disappear to his next class.
My mind focused back onto the things I could feel good about in art class. Mrs. Solheim gave us back some of our pieces that she'd finally gotten around to grading over the break. Calling me Tom, and telling me, once again, how much talent she thought I had, she handed me back the charcoal drawing I'd done of Sawyer. She'd given me an A. I smiled as I smoothed out the paper image of the woman I knew so well, a woman who'd brought me back from the brink. My finger traced the curve of her cheek on the paper and I suddenly knew what I wanted to do with this piece that meant so much to me.
I tucked it in my backpack and got to work on the next image of the woman I loved.
Not too much later, I saw her again. Her black hair streamed behind her in the crisp breeze, her small frame wrapped in my letterman's jacket. Now I loved how my name across her back implied my claim on her. Underneath that jacket, I knew she was wearing her typical long-sleeve shirt, and I also knew that shirt was doing much more than just keeping her warm. Her thumb ring flashed in a sudden bright patch of sunlight and its triumphant shine matched the triumphant look on her face as she walked over to me. I smiled at seeing the happy glow in her eyes, wondering if I had anything to do with it.
She slung her arms around my neck when we finally met up in-between the buildings housing art and choir. She immediately leaned up to lightly press her lips to mine. Mine were smiling as she pulled away. My hands automatically curled around her waist and we held each other, like we'd been apart all day, and not just the last two classes.
"Why does it feel like forever since I've seen you?" she asked, echoing my thoughts again.
I grinned and shook my head. "Because it has been. " She rolled her eyes, but laughed, the look of victory still on her face. I cocked an eye brow as I studied her. "Something. . . going on?"
She grinned and removed one of her hands from my neck, showing me a note tucked inside her fingers. I felt my face scrunch as I tried to figure out what it was. I grabbed it from her cool grasp and unfolded it with one hand while she watched me with a wry smile. As familiar handwriting popped out at me, I startled and met her gaze again.
"Our note? The one Josh knew about?" She nodded. "What happened to it?"
She shrugged and hugged me tighter. "Your favorite 'ex' had apparently stolen it from my bag, probably that same day. I hadn't noticed then, but Sally told me that she'd heard Brittany bragging about it today. " She gave me a wink and a sly smile. "So I made sure I got it back. "
I shook my head at her, wondering how she'd accomplished that. "I love you," I muttered, before lowering my lips to hers again. She chuckled, but couldn't answer me since my lips weren't exactly letting her speak. I didn't need her to say it back to me anyway. I already knew exactly how much Sawyer loved me. She'd proven that to me on the highway.
Her fingers curled up to my hair as mine ran up her back, pulling her tighter. Behind her, I heard a series of disgruntled noises and I cracked my eyes open. I could just make out Brittany, standing several feet away from us, watching us kiss. I closed my eyes again, blocking her out. I couldn't help Brittany's petty jealousies. . . which I was fairly certain was all it was for her. She had never shown me anything even close to resembling love, not even way back, when we'd been fooling around. It was one of the reasons that it had been so easy for me to discount the encounter. I was a toy to her, something she enjoyed playing with and didn't like to share, but she definitely wasn't above chucking me to the curb when it suited her purpose. That sort of game wasn't something I'd ever had any interest in playing, regardless of how attractive she was.
My hands tightened on Sawyer, reveling in someone who actually did care about me. As the noises behind her finally faded into silence, I remembered what I'd wanted to do earlier in art. I broke apart from our kiss and smiled down at her. Her mouth was still parted, her breath just slightly heavier and her eyes slightly glassy. It was an astoundingly attractive look, one that hinted at where our relationship could eventually go, and I swallowed at seeing it.
Blinking and stammering on vague, incoherent words, I reached behind me to my backpack. She released her grip on me when she understood what I was doing. Looking more put together, she watched me curiously. Grinning, I found the picture I'd drawn and handed it to her. She tucked our "note" in her pocket, before taking my picture and unfolding it.
Her mouth fell open as she looked over the intricate, charcoal version of her that I'd drawn. As she was speechless for so long, I started getting nervous that she didn't like it. Maybe she thought it was creepy or something. I started to anxiously shift my weight back and forth, waiting for some response from her.
Finally her eyes lifted from the paper; they were watery as she gazed at me dumbfounded. She shook her head and tried to speak, but couldn't. As I scrunched my brow, she finally swallowed and said, "You drew. . . me?"
I nodded and smiled, relaxing at the awe I heard in her voice. "I always draw you. I always have," I added in a whisper.
She looked back down to the paper, her finger tracing the same curve on her cheek that I had earlier. "You drew me. . . beautiful," she murmured quietly, clearly taken aback that I'd do such a thing.
My hand came up to her chin, lifting it so she'd look at me. "You are beautiful. "
A tear dropped to her cheek and I brushed it off with my thumb. Her watery eyes flicked between mine as the chilly wind continued to blow her hair around her, lifting and releasing the ends in a continual wave of motion. "I love it. I love you, Lucas. "
I smiled and bent down to kiss her again. By the time we broke apart, we were both late for our next appointments.
We parted ways in front of the purity club door. She playfully grabbed the edges of my jacket, pulling me to her for a quick kiss. I chuckled and turned it into a longer kiss. She sighed, and looked at me a little dreamily as she pulled away. I shook my head as I watched her open the door and disappear into the packed classroom. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe that someone like her, could love someone like me. But I could see now that that thought was more driven by the self hatred than anything else. Before the wreck, I'd never questioned the fact that someone as beautiful and amazing as Lillian had loved me; it had never even occurred to me back then, that I wasn't worthy of her. No, all of my self-doubt was because of the crash, and my part in it. Self loathing can do a number on your self esteem and I was still working on that.
As I opened the door stenciled with the word "counselor" in bold, black letters, a smile crept to my face. I was working on that, and this was the person who'd help me.
Her smile was broad and beaming as she noticed me walking through her door. Her flaming hair was loose around her, large curls spilling around her shoulders, highlighting her crystal blue eyes. Those eyes glowed at me with genuine affection as I took my seat across from her. I sat with a genuinely affectionate smile on my face and marveled at how drastically my attitude about coming here had changed since the beginning. Aside from being with Sawyer, sitting down with Beth was one of the high
points in my day.
"Good to see you, Lucas," She replied warmly, her eyes crinkling around the corners, showing a lifetime of happy moments, one of which appeared to be me.
I beamed at her, relaxing back into my seat. "Good to see you too, Beth. " Her smile widened at my casual use of her first name. I'd resisted speaking to her with any type of familiarity for a long time, but after my moment on the highway, I'd needed to let her in, to save myself.
Much like I had every day since I'd called her, I began telling her what was on my mind. She'd surprised me over winter break, by showing up at my house every morning. She definitely wasn't under any obligation to do that, and it had definitely seemed above and beyond anything a school grief counselor should have to do, but she hadn't listened to my halfhearted attempts to tell her it wasn't necessary. She'd simply told me it was, and goaded me to talk to her.
I hadn't been as relaxed and free speaking as I was being now, as I told her about my meeting with the principal and running into Josh throughout the day. No, even after pouring out my soul the day of the highway incident, it had been a struggle to force myself to talk to her. After shutting down for so long, opening up is a gradual, painful process. Maybe that's what she'd meant when she said it was necessary to see me every day. Maybe she knew, that if she didn't strike while the iron was hot, I'd start closing up again. I don't know. Like I'd told her once before, she was the one with all the diplomas, not me.
With a smile on my face, I told her about giving the picture I'd drawn of Sawyer to her, and her reaction to me portraying her as beautifully as I saw her.
She smiled with one edge of her lip as she twisted a pencil in her hands. "Sometimes, we don't see ourselves as clearly as others do. " I looked up at her and nodded, knowing she wasn't necessarily talking about Sawyer anymore. She smiled more at seeing me agree with her statement. Awhile ago, I would have disagreed with her. "I'm glad you'll be coming to see me for a bit longer, Lucas. "
I nodded and looked down. I'd told her about my punishment for fighting with Josh, the additional counseling I'd been given, part of the school's new policy to try and rehabilitate students, instead of just outright punishing them. As I thought about how much being here had helped me, I thought maybe the school was on to something. I started to have a little hope for Josh. I hoped he'd open up to Beth easier than I had.
She continued as I thought about that. "Honestly, Lucas, I wish I had seen you earlier. . . the first day of school, if not immediately after the tragedy. "
I looked up at her again, shifting my thoughts back to that horrid time. Mom had tried on a few occasions to get me to a counselor, but she may as well have stuck me in an empty room, for all the good it had done me. I just hadn't been ready to talk to anyone. "I don't like talking about. . . stuff. . . to anyone. "
She nodded her head, tapping her pencil on her desk a couple times. "I've noticed that. " I chuckled at that and smiled softly. She shook her head. "But you're doing so much better. You've come a long way in opening up, Lucas. That's very hard to do, especially to a complete stranger. You should be very proud of yourself. "
Feeling embarrassed, I hung my head and shrugged. Thinking about that, I wondered if she was proud of me for trying to escape life, by living in a fantasy. I can't imagine she'd say that was healthy. . . or normal. I cringed, but asked her anyway. "Is what I did, creating a dream world with my friends, crazy?" Feeling pale, I asked, "Am I nuts?" I peeked up at her, cringing.
She looked at me for a moment, tapping her pencil against her lip before answering. "Just you asking that, shows that you're not crazy. " I found myself relaxing infinitesimally and it surprised me. I hadn't realized I'd tensed waiting for her answer. I guess some part of me, really had been worried that she'd confirm what I was secretly afraid of.
She smiled as she watched me sit back in my chair. "Lucas, you've been through something that most people can't even contemplate, or even want to. " She shook her head and I watched the red curls swish over her shoulders, blankly letting her words enter my head. "I think your mind dealt with it, in the only way it could. It may not have been the healthiest option. . . but I'd say you're doing pretty well, considering. "
I allowed myself a wry smile at that. "Considering, I almost tried to kill myself, to join my dream friends?" I was a little surprised at how casually I could talk about the biggest (well, second biggest) tragic event of my life. That was just a testament to how comfortable I'd become around Beth.
She smiled wryly in return. "But you didn't and you asked for help. You asked for my help. " She cocked her head to the side. "That's pretty huge, compared to how you were when you moodily slumped into my chair a few weeks ago. Don't you think?"
Her words echoed my earlier thoughts regarding my time spent here and I smiled at hearing our minds run in parallel. A soft laugh escaped me as I stared at my hands on my lap, remembering my moody first day. "Maybe. . . "
She sighed softly and I glanced up at her from the corner of my eye. "I can't imagine exactly what you've gone through, Lucas, but I can imagine your pain. "
I lifted my head, another wry smile twisting my lips. "You can imagine the pain of murdering all of your friends?" I instantly regretted saying it, both because of how callus it sounded, and because a slice of pain went right through me at saying it. Things were better, but I wasn't like I was magically healed and the death of my friends didn't ever bother me anymore. It did. Healing doesn't happen overnight. It's painfully slow, and my friend's absence still shook me to my core on occasion. I hung my head again.
Beth took in my changed expression and placed a few fingers on my shoulder. I looked up and could tell tears were in my eyes. I blinked them away, not wanting to cry today. "You didn't murder them, Lucas. In your heart, you know that. It was an accident. . . a tragic accident. "
I cocked my head as I watched her face twist with sympathy for me. Feeling warm and safe in her spa-like oasis, I said something that I'd have never uttered just a few weeks ago. "I don't think it was an accident. "
She blinked and scrunched her forehead. I was one hundred percent sure she believed me, when I said I'd been sober, and rain and speed had been my downfall that night. She also knew I was well aware of what caused the crash, so I could almost see her mind trying to grasp what I meant by my statement. "Of course it was, Lucas. What else would it be?"
I looked down, not able to meet her eyes anymore. "It was carelessness, recklessness. It was me thinking that we were invincible and not. . . slowing down, to think about just how precious what I had been carrying was. . . " I peeked up at her, those tears in my eyes again. "It was me being stupid. "
Her fingers clenched my shoulder sympathetically before pulling away. A soft, sad smile played across her lips. "Sort of the definition of 'accident', don't you think?"
I swallowed, shaking my head. "No. . . it feels. . . more like fate. " I swallowed, not sure if she'd understand that. I wasn't sure if I did either, it was just an overriding sense in me sometimes, like, no matter what I'd done differently that night. . . I'd still be here, in this office, mourning.
She cocked her head, confused again. "You think you fated your friends to die?"
It sounded so silly when she said it like that, that I sighed and hung my head. "I don't know. " I shrugged. "But, they are dead because of me. "
Silence filled the room. Well, not exactly silence as she had some soothing, light jazz playing in the background, but Beth didn't respond to what I'd said. I let the silence between us stretch on for as long as I could stand, then I glanced up at her. She was watching me, a thoughtful expression on her freckled face. Finally, in a low voice, she spoke. "You can't accept forgiveness from others, until you accept it from yourself, Lucas. "
I swallowed back the ache that line gave me. It hit so close to home. Trying to shrug off the pain of self-hatred that always lingered around the edges of my being, I gave her a weak, wry smile. "That sounds straight out of a t
extbook. "
She didn't give me the smile I expected in return. Instead, her look remained completely serious as she studied my expression. I could feel my eyes water again under that gaze, and I stopped trying to halt the feeling that I was having. I let my eyes completely water and let the tears drop to my cheeks. Her face still showing no humor, her pale eyes watching my tears fall, she calmly said, "It's written in a textbook for a reason. "
I could only nod as I silently cried. I suppose it was. I knew I had to let this go, this feeling of loathing I had for myself. I knew I needed to come to some sort of peaceful arrangement, if I ever wanted to move forward, and I knew my friends and Lillian would have wanted that for me. I knew Sawyer and my mom wanted that for me. And a tiny, tiny speck of me, wanted that for me.
Finally, Beth's face relaxed and she sighed softly, bringing her hand back to my shoulder. "We'll get you there, Luc. I promise. "