(Never) Again (17 page)

“Yeah but . . .”

“But what?” I asked.

“I don’t know. She’s always staring at him and following him around like a lost puppy.”

“They’re bandmates. Nothing more.”

“If you say so, but I’d keep my eye on her.” She tossed a grape in her mouth. “It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now enough of my drama. What happened with Matt?”

“It turns out,” she paused for effect. “He’s liked me for years.”

“Told you so.” I couldn’t help myself.

Sadie filled me in on her entire night with Matt, from the minute they left the party to the second she walked back in the door. I was happy they’d finally had the guts to admit what everyone else had known all along.

She stood up from the counter. “I’m going to shower then head out to pick up my brother.”

After last night and knowing my v-card-losing plans were no longer, since Joe and I clearly needed to work a few things out, I wished she was staying in tonight.

The water turned on in the bathroom, and at the same time the front door opened. Josh stepped in and as soon as he saw me he rolled his eyes and turned to walk out. Why the hell did he even bother coming back?

“Wait. Where were you?” I stood up, hands on my hips, as if I were our parents.

“Zach’s,” he mumbled.

“Sleeping with the enemy.” I shook my head in disbelief.

“First off, as good-looking as Zach is I wouldn’t sleep with him. He’s not my type. And secondly, he’s not the enemy. He was protecting you last night. You should be thanking him.”

“Protecting me from what? From Joe?” I didn’t mean to yell. I just hated that Josh kept taking Zach’s side. He was my brother, dammit. We were a team. You didn’t abandon your teammates, no matter how much trouble they got into.

“Liz, he’s an ass.”

“Whatever. Just because you and Zach are BFF’s doesn’t mean you have to take his side. I’m your sister, for chrissake.” My hands flailed with each word.

“Yes, you are, but that doesn’t change the fact that your boyfriend is an ass. Naturally I’d want to take your side, but this time you’re wrong. Dead wrong. Joe shouldn’t have said what he said, and he sure as hell should not have been trying to get you to do something you didn’t want to do. You’re lucky it was Zach that intervened, because if it was me, he would have had more than a bloody nose.”

I didn’t say anything. My brother was not the violent type, and I couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“You can do better than him, Liz.”

“Like who? Zach?” I yelled. “In case you forgot, he left and stopped calling me, not the other way around.” Tears stung my eyes, but I pushed them back. “I loved him and, he destroyed me. Some great guy he turned out to be.”

“People change. They grow up. Maybe it’s time you did the same.”

Before I could think of a comeback, he grabbed his duffel bag and stomped his way to the door, slamming it behind him.

I could have chased him. I could have continued the fight. I didn’t. There was nothing left to say.

Josh left without a goodbye. Not even a text, though I do remember some point during the weekend him saying something about having to study for a science test and that he’d be heading out early. Still, he could have said goodbye.

Whatever. He’d get over it. The next time he came to visit, this weekend would be a thing of the past. He probably wouldn’t even remember why he wasn’t talking to me. I didn’t worry about it. I had other things to worry about. Like getting to class.

Jeans and a hoodie were all I could manage as I stumbled around my room Monday morning, still partially hungover, if that was even possible. I must’ve said “I’ll never drink again,” three hundred times within the last 24 hours.

When I got to campus I didn’t wait for Joe. He’d stopped showing up for class a while ago anyway. Give the boy a pair of drumsticks and the delusion he’d be famous, and you might as well say goodbye to higher education. I hadn’t even called him Sunday to see how his nose was. It’s not that I wasn’t concerned—I just didn’t want to deal with it. Though, as I sat waiting for class to start and dwelling on the night’s events, I started to get angry with not only Josh and Zach, but Joe too.

He ruined my weekend. He ruined my party. He ruined any chance of Josh liking him. And I could guarantee he wouldn’t remember a single second of it.

He always drank too much. Granted it was a party, but there was no reason for him to get sloppy. He could never have just one drink. He wasn’t capable. One always turned into five and next thing you knew he’s passed out in the bushes.

Monday was supposed to be the day I finally handed my v-card to Joe, but as I walked into class I couldn’t think of enough ways to avoid him. It was like I was back at square one, but instead of just dodging Zach, I was avoiding Joe too.

Zach had already been at his desk when I walked into Principles of Writing. I would have sworn he was on a mission to slowly destroy me, but as soon as I walked in he’d moved his desk away from mine.

When class ended, I bolted. Call it childish or whatever you’d like—I don’t care. I’d gone from being somewhat unknown on campus to the most talked about freshman around. Everywhere I went, someone told me how crazy my party had been and asked if Joe was okay. Somehow word had gotten out that Joe and Zach had gotten in this massive fight, the cops had been called, and basically all hell had broken loose. It was like that game you play when you’re little: telephone. The message gets so warped by moving from one person to the next that by the time it reaches the end it’s completely fabricated.

I ditched my last class and headed home. I was tired. Tired of everything. I wanted my pj’s, a brownie, and Sadie’s collection of the ultimate rom coms. An afternoon of vegging out and turning my brain off was exactly what I needed. Plus, I had to finish that stupid paper.

I got home in record time and hopped out of my car.

“Babe!” Joe’s voice travelled through the parking lot, and I cringed in response. “Wait up!” I had two choices. Run or stop avoiding and deal with it. I decided to deal with it. Why prolong the inevitable?

I stopped at the door and waited for Joe to approach. If I went inside, he would charm me into making out on the couch. And that was so not happening. No! I was ready for a battle. I was ready to tell him how he ruined my night and destroyed his chances of my brother ever accepting him.

Joe’s usually clear complexion was marked with a swirl of black, blue and purple underneath his right eye. Suddenly my anger faded. I had never seen him look so . . . so . . . hurt.

“Oh jeez, are you okay?” I took his face in my hands and stared at his eye before giving him a kiss. How could I start a fight with him? He looked like hell.

He placed his hand on mine. “I’m fine.”

“Does it hurt?” Gently, I ran my finger along the contour of his cheekbone.

“A little, but I’ll be fine.” I turned away and unlocked the door. His hand wrapped around my waist and he turned me towards him. “Liz. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I asked, knowing there were a multitude of things he could be apologizing for.

“Zach told me I was being a dick. So I just wanted . . .”

I held up my hand. “Wait, you talked to Zach?”

“I didn’t know how I got the black eye. Woke up, saw myself, called Scott. He filled me in. Later Zach showed up.” I must’ve looked surprised because Joe rested his hand on my shoulder. “I thought he was going to throw another punch, even though I’m not fully sure why he threw the first one. But he came to talk shit out. We agreed it was a misunderstanding and that was that.”

Only Zach would punch somebody and then show up the next day to work it out. Whatever. I still wasn’t talking to him. I didn’t care if Joe could forgive him. Joe couldn’t even remember the night in question.

“Do you want to come up?” I asked.

He rested his hand on my cheek. “Band practice. Just wanted to make sure we’re cool.”

Of course. It was just as well though. I had a spot on the couch with my name on it. “We’re cool.”

He kissed my forehead and took off. I thought everything was good. No more drama. But nothing would have prepared me for what came next.

Once I got inside, I threw my books on the counter and headed straight to the fridge. I was craving a bowl of cereal. Luckily, the milk still had a couple days before it expired. I grabbed the biggest bowl we had. I deserved it.

Vegging out was the perfect remedy for my crappy weekend. I switched the TV on, but the news seemed to be on every channel. I wasn’t used to being home so early, so I assumed it was normal.

As I changed channels, I replayed the weekend in my head. I thought about calling Josh, but hesitated. He was the one who had left without a goodbye.

After flipping through channels I found a rerun of
One Tree Hill
. I leaned back into the couch and shoveled spoonfuls of cereal in my mouth. Halfway through my cereal, my show paused for a commercial break. The words “BREAKING NEWS” flashed across the screen.

Breaking news never piqued my interest, simply because breaking news didn’t occur in my life or my town. It was probably another horrible terrorist attack in another country far away from me.

The bowl was cradled in my lap. One hand held the spoon, the other the remote. My finger was on the button, ready to change the channel, when the words in the bright red box caught my attention.

Cereal and milk spilled from my spoon. I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. I must not have been reading it right. Springfield University was one of the best in the country. It’s the reason Josh had chosen it.

Josh.

I dropped the spoon in the bowl and reached for my cell. Thank God for speed dial. My hand shook and with each ring my stomach twisted in sickening fear.

“You got Josh. Leave it for me at the tone.” The phone slipped from my hand and splashed down in a pool of milk. Everything around me became a blur of sound and color. I was lost in the sound of blaring sirens coming from my television.

I drifted in and out of focus, teetering somewhere along consciousness. I tried to watch the television, but I couldn’t see past the building wall of tears. I tried to listen to what the reporter said, but my thoughts were too loud.

I don’t know how much time passed, but eventually there was a knock at my door. It was all so surreal. At first I didn’t even hear it, but whoever was there was determined to get in. I placed the bowl on the coffee table and opened the door in a zombie-like state.

“I just heard the news. I came straight here. Have you heard from him?” Zach’s hands rested on my shoulders. My eyes burned. My heart raced. I couldn’t move.

“Lizzie?”

His voice traveled through me, getting lost in the numbness of my mind.

“Lizzie! Snap out of it.” My eyes widened. My vision cleared.

“He’s not answering his phone,” I said.

“Jeez,” Zach said. “Come on, get inside. Have you called your parents yet?”

“I don’t know what to do.” My head snapped up. “What if he was shot? What if he’s dead?” The numbness passed as panic set in. Hot, salty tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t hold myself up anymore. My back fell against the wall and my body slumped to the floor.

Dead.

I didn’t want to think the possibility. I didn’t want to face it. The thoughts weighed heavy on my head until it fell forward into my arms. My body rocked back and forth uncontrollably, tears burned, the room spun, and I felt like I was falling.

“Zach . . . I can’t do this. I can’t do it alone. Don’t leave me.”

Warm, strong arms wrapped around me. His hand ran soft strokes down the back of my hair as he whispered in my ear, “I’m not going anywhere.” With all the energy I could muster I looked up at him. I had only seen him like this once before: on the day he sat with me for hours in the kitchen after my grandfather passed away.

Through blurry eyes I could see concern had overtaken his face. He didn’t know what to do any more than I did.

Everything that happened next was a blur, the actions melting through my mind like Dali’s clocks. Zach walked me back to the couch. He assured me everything was going to be okay, but I knew they were just words.

He pulled me close again, tucking my hair behind my ear before grabbing the cordless phone and disappearing into the kitchen.

I didn’t want to look at the TV, but at the same time my eyes were drawn to the chaos on the screen. Replays of officers surrounding the building, bodies wrapped in black bags being carried out on stretchers, yellow police tape, and people crying.

Everyone was crying.

The video shrank to a small box at the bottom of the screen and a reporter began to speak. “The shootings took place in the Kramer Science Building on the west side of the campus. It is believed the first shot occurred around one fifteen.”

I went to breathe in, but my breath got stuck in my throat. My teeth chattered. My nose twitched. My body became stiff. And the tears spilled out.

The science building.

No!

Josh had told me he had a science test. That’s why he left so early. Not because he wanted to avoid seeing me. He left because he had a test in the afternoon. With the party, he hadn’t had time to study. He was going back to his dorm to study for a few hours before he had to be in class for . . .

His science test.

I knew something was wrong. I could feel it in my core. I knew without a doubt that Josh was in the building when the shooter fired. Whether he was hit or not I wasn’t sure. But I knew he had been there.

My heart pounded against my chest. The sounds from the television disappeared. All I could hear were my thoughts. Every worst-case scenario ran through my head, the images stamping themselves deep into my mind.