Me After You (12 page)

His arm reels back to take a swing, and I shut my eyes, but the hit never comes. I hear his fist connect with flesh, but it’s not mine. I open my eyes to see Josh hunched over in front of me. My dad’s eyes widen when he realizes he didn’t hit me.

My dad gasps, speechless, unsure where to go from here. He grunts but doesn’t make another comment before he trudges away. I hear the slam of his bedroom door and let out the breath I was holding.

“Why did you do that, Josh?” I hiss. “You shouldn’t have stepped in front of me. It should have been me.”

“I’m used to it.” He wipes the blood from his face with the back of his hand. “Your old man doesn’t normally hit you, does he?”

I shake my head. “Not a lot, no.”

He shrugs. “Happens to me every day.”

He always tried to protect me. “Until you’ve stepped in his shoes, you have no place to judge him or my decision to be friends with him.”

Lily stops us on the sidewalk and peers up at me. Her hand reaches up and brushes hair from my forehead. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” She licks her lips, a nervous habit of hers. “I won’t say anything ever again.”

“Thank you,” I sigh.

“I really am sorry, Dean.” She’s speaking as if she regrets saying it because it made me angry, not because she’s actually sorry.

I say it’s fine, but I want to be off the topic. I steer her toward the ticket line so we can get into this movie and take my mind off it all.

I’ve been working on getting over the past, moving past the life that my dad created for us. And it’s so freaking hard to do that when all Lily does is remind me of it. She doesn’t realize what she does, but if I tell her to lay off she’ll question me further, want more details, so desperate to
save
me.

But I don’t need to be saved. I’ve already been saved. The thought of Sawyer alive in this world saves me every day.

“I
HAVE
BEEN
dying
to see this movie for months,” Alix says as we walk into the movie theater lobby. “When I first saw the trailer in April it was one of those that I thought, ‘I will go to the theater by myself if I have to.’ And you know how much I loathe that idea.”

“Good thing I’m here to save you from social suicide. Heaven forbid you go to the movies alone.”

“I’m not above it,” she counters. “I would just prefer not to. Watching movies alone isn’t nearly as fun.”

“Well, you’re in luck today.”

Alix and I find a couple of seats toward the middle of the theater. We’ve made it in time for the previews, which, for me, are half the entertainment in going to the movies.

Once we’re seated, popcorn starts flying over the seat, piece by piece, like snow falling all around us. Alix and I share a look. Then one pegs her in the temple, and her head swings back so fast she almost looks possessed. I turn in the same direction and see Aiden a few rows up, grinning from ear to ear, popping the white kernels into his mouth as he smacks his gums.

“Fancy meeting you ladies here.”

“Couldn’t you have found another theater to terrorize?” Alix hisses.

Aiden chuckles soundlessly. “Sadly, no,” he replies. “This is the only theater that allows my behavior—encourages it actually.”

Someone in the theater shushes us.

I notice a new girl sitting beside him. A redhead this time. No Priscilla in sight. She’s looking down at the phone illuminating her face, ignoring him and us.

“Nice date. She looks super attentive,” Alix remarks.

“We keep each other company.” He shrugs with mischief in his eyes, aiming his comment at Alix.

The redhead looks up at that moment, as if she just realized there’s a world around her. “Shelly, do you know Alix and Sawyer?” Aiden asks.

“I don’t think I do. Nice to meet you girls.” She waves. She’s got a strong Southern accent. So strong, in fact, that it’s hard to understand what she says.

“You should probably pay more attention to your date, Aiden. You’re boring her already, and the movie hasn’t even started yet,” Alix says.

“Who says we came here to be entertained by a movie?” I hear his insinuation. It can’t be lost on Alix, and I can only imagine how Shelly must feel. Hopefully she knows he’s just trying to razz Alix.

Aiden and Alix continue their quiet bickering, but my eyes zero in past Alix’s shoulder, on a couple entering the theater, walking slowly down the dark aisle with the faint floor lighting revealing their faces. They both search the theater for seats. Thankfully, they haven’t spotted us yet. Dean’s eyes come close to our row, and I sink lower into my seat to remain undetected. Just before he’s about to discover us, Lily grabs his hand, leading him to a couple of seats in the back corner.

I don’t realize I’m grabbing Alix’s leg until she hisses, “Ouch! What the crap, Sawyer?”

Her eyes follow my line of sight over her left shoulder and then she turns back to me.

“Is it…? We can go,” she whispers. “We don’t have to stay.”

I hate that I want to accept her offer. Alix really wants to see this movie, but I can’t stand the thought of being enclosed in the same room as them for two straight hours. Leaving, though, also means walking past them. There’s only one exit.

She decides for me. “We’ll go. C’mon.” Taking my hand, she pulls me from my seat.

“Oh c’mon, Alix. I didn’t scare you off, did I?” Aiden’s not loud, but it’s loud enough that Dean and Lily could have heard him.

“Shut it, Ballard,” Alix snaps over her shoulder as she leads us down the row.

We walk up the aisle and out of the theater. I don’t pay any attention to them. I don’t let my eyes wander. I’m not sure if they saw us leave or not, but I don’t care. As soon as we walk out of the theater and into the open air, I feel like I can breathe again.

“Better?” she asks.

I nod and exhale. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I would have made you stay, but there was this look of terror in your eyes. You okay?”

“I will be.” My arms find solace across my chest.

Alix sighs as if she’s trying to figure out what we should do now. “Sleepover?” she questions. “I’m pretty sure it’s time. It’s been over six years, and you owe me a movie. Maybe two to make up for missing that one.”

“Only if the sleepover includes buttery popcorn and loads of candy.”

“It wouldn’t be much of a sleepover without all that diabetes.”

“Then I say we have ourselves a deal.”

We stop by the drug store to stock up on junk food and head back to my house. The eating starts almost as soon as the chick flick marathon begins.

“Are you ever going to give Aiden a break?”

“Pshht. He doesn’t deserve a break.”

“Felix, you like him. I know you do. And I can tell he likes you, too. So, he was a dumb boy. He didn’t cheat on you. He didn’t lie to you or lead you on. How do you know he was even on a date that night? Maybe he and Bridget were going out as friends.”

“Then he should have explained himself. He saw me when he was with her, and he smiled, like hey, it was fun, but I can get a much hotter woman than you.”

“Oh, Alix.” I laughed. “There is no way that, number one: his smile meant that, and number two: he thinks Bridget is prettier than you. You’re being dramatic.”

She shrugs. “Whatever.”

“You won’t even give him a little time of day?”

“Nope.” She shoves popcorn in her mouth and keeps her eyes focused on the TV mounted on my wall.

I leave it. I know she’s scared of really getting hurt. She’ll figure it out eventually.

Three movies later, it’s two o’clock in the morning, and Alix is sprawled across my bed in a junk food coma. I shove her to one side and crawl in next to her. Apparently moving her was a bad idea. Darth Vader has returned. If she turned to me now and said,
“Luke,
koooohhhhh heeeeeee,
I am your father,”
I wouldn’t doubt her to be the real deal.

Her throaty breathing makes it especially hard for me to fall asleep. I’m reminded as to why I rarely invited her to sleep over when we were younger and why I never slept over at her house. My mind stretches to remember the last time we did this, and I instantly remember why I’ve been trying to suppress that memory. It feels like both forever ago and yesterday.

The bathroom tile is cold on my skin. It helps to alleviate the nausea. If you want to know what slowly dying inside feels like, I could probably tell you.

“He’s really gone,” I choke. Alix rubs my back as I lay on the bathroom floor. The pain is excruciating. It runs through my veins, tearing them to shreds, crippling every part of my body. I didn’t know it was possible for the body to survive this kind of agony. “Is it my fault? Did I do this?”

“No, it’s not your fault, Sawyer,” she murmurs. “You had no control over this.”

“Why does it hurt so badly?” I curl further into the fetal position. But I know why. This is my punishment.

“It’s probably going to hurt for awhile.”

“Why did Dean leave me?” My words are hardly audible coming. It’s a wonder she can understand me. I clench the front of his Blink 182 shirt that I’m wearing. I can barely smell the scent of him on it anymore. It was the last piece of him that I had. “He’s supposed to be here with me.”

“I know, but I don’t know if he’s coming back. You have to learn to live like he’s not coming back.”

I wheeze. “I don’t want to live that way.”

“I don’t think you have a choice,” Alix speaks softly, tracing her hand in a circular motion over my back and down my arm. But there is no relief. This is the kind of ache that will never die. No matter how hard I try, I know this will be the kind of pain that will stay with me forever. And no one will understand it but me.

Alix reaches over and rubs my back. I don’t realize I’m crying until her shushing brings me back. “It’s okay to cry, Sawyer. Cry as much as you need to.”

She thinks she understands why I’m crying, and I let her believe it’s because of Grayson, because I can’t bear the thought of telling her the real reason. I can’t talk about it. Not because she wouldn’t understand. She would probably start to cry with me if she knew, and I’m tired of making people feel sorry for me. I’ll get through this. I can do it on my own. I can. I’ve got this. I’ll be okay. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself, but I’m still waiting for the day I will feel okay. I don’t know how to fix me. I’m stuck in a whirlpool of misery that fights to drag me under, and I can’t get out.

***

In the morning, we make pancakes. My eyes feel heavy and raw from my meltdown, but Alix leaves it alone. I silently thank her with my eyes, and she knows. My parents join us, and we eat breakfast peacefully. My mom notices my swollen eyes, but she keeps it to herself. Her eyes widen, but she forces her mouth shut.

“They’re so sweet and fluffy. What did you do to make them this way?”

“I beat the egg whites before whisking them into the batter.”

She takes another bite and hums. “I should have you cook more often. You can be my little in-house chef.”

“Just tell me when, Mama.”

Alix leaves after breakfast, and our Sunday carries on much the same as breakfast. My parents and I sit quietly on our porch for a little bit with our sweet tea and enjoy the warm weather. Nothing heavy is discussed. We’re all playing a part in pretending everything is back to normal when we all know it’s not. Dad talks about the lives of some of our old family friends, and mom fills in the gaps that he misses. I pretend to care and listen, but don’t make many comments. Everyone’s lives keep on moving forward while mine stands still.

I
GRAB
MY
jacket and head for the front door. My dad is in his recliner in the living room, but if I’m quiet enough, I might get by without him noticing me since he’s got the TV blasting so loud. Unfortunately, the swipe of the lock isn’t drowned out enough.

“Boy! Where do you think you’re going?” he hollers.

I clear my throat and turn to see he’s still facing the TV. He couldn’t be bothered to turn around to talk to me. “I’m going out with Sawyer Hartwell.”

“Phil Hartwell’s girl?”

“Yes, sir.”

My father spins the recliner around and grunts. “What does she want to do with the likes of you? Doesn’t she know you’ll amount to nothing?”

 
I shrug to disguise my wince. “We’re just hanging out.”

He takes a sip of his beer with a blank stare. His eyes see through me and slice into me at the same time. “I know what hanging out means.” He watches me for a moment without saying a word, staring me down, scanning my body with a look of utter disgust. “Does she know what you are?”

I don’t know what he means by that so I don’t answer, thinking he’ll finish his thought, but I guessed wrong.

“Answer me, you little piece of crap! She know what you are?” he demands.

“I don’t know, sir,” I speak up, blinking away tears that threaten to surface.

“You should tell her now before it’s too late. She should know how pointless it is to waste her time on you.”

I don’t want him to see the tears that prick my eyes, so I clench my teeth and nod. I bolt through the door before he can call me back.
 

My office phone rings, starling me back to the present. “Preston Motorsports,” I answer. “This is Dean.”

“Hi, Dean. My name is Rob Dillon. How are ya doin’ today?”

“I’m all right. What can I do for you, Mr. Dillon?”

“Call me Rob, please.”

“Okay, Rob. How can I help you?”

“You are the owner of Preston Motorsports, correct?”
 

“Yes, I am.”

“I’ve got an offer for you, and I’m hoping I can take a minute of your time.”

“Okay,” I say hesitantly.

He laughs. “Don’t worry. This isn’t a sales call. I’m actually trying to do quite the opposite. I’ve heard a lot about your garage. You do good work.”

“Thank you, sir. We do our best.”

“Not many motorists in a fifty-mile radius go anywhere aside from your garage.”