(Once) Again (5 page)

She deserved a guy who would show her off. Hold her hand in town. Tell people she was his.

So instead of continuing to chase after her, I turned to the couch and sat. And I let her go.

The door slammed. The room spun. Colors blended. Blues became black. Browns became red, and I was spiraling. My heart raced, threatening to rip a hole through my chest. Sweat pooled in my hands and along my forehead. I gripped the couch, hoping if I was dying that it would just happen already.

Just get it over with. No long, dragged-out show. As long as it wasn’t my sister who found me. But as the colors bled to black, I realized I didn’t want to die.

Liz told me when she heard about the shooting that she prayed, even though she never did before. Because she needed something to hold onto. Mind racing, I forced myself to focus on how badly I wanted to live, praying for the first time in my life.

I didn’t have time to pray in the hallways that day. It all happened too fast. Maybe if I had, maybe if I’d found a single second to send up a silent prayer, things would’ve been different.

I could’ve saved her. When Liz told me about the crying woman in the waiting room, all the air in my lungs sucked out. Without another word I knew it was Nia’s mother. She would never see her daughter again. And it was my fault.

There was no air left in my lungs and with each breath I sucked in, my body shook. The idea of praying was gone. I didn’t deserve to live. I floated out of my body, hovering somewhere just outside of it. But I could still feel my heart thrashing against my chest.

“Look, I’m sorry,” I heard and then the slam of the door.

A shot grazed the shoulder of a guy in my class. He was flung back, tumbling to the ground. Blood pooled around him. I could feel the bile trying to rise in my throat. I pushed it down—I needed to survive.

Nia hid with me in the doorway, but the killer saw us. I pushed ahead of her, hoping to save her. Be the one the killer saw first. But . . . But . . .

“Josh!” My name broke through the fog in my head. Soft hands held my face. “Josh, snap out of it!” The fear in Kat’s voice brought me back.

I gasped for air, filling my lungs.

“Breathe. Just breathe. I’m right here.”

I took slow, calming breaths, letting them pass through every inch of me, allowing Kat’s cotton candy scent to consume me. My grip on the cushion loosened.

Her thumbs made slow strokes across my cheeks. “That’s right. Come back to me.”

I pressed my hands to hers, which were still resting on my face, interlocking our fingers. I looked up into her familiar blue eyes. A hint of fear still lingered in her gaze. I hated that I did that to her.

“It was a panic attack,” she said. “I get them too.”

Overrun with emotion, only wanting to relish the fact that I wasn’t dead, I pulled her into my arms. She linked her hands around my neck, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more. Needed her warmth pressed against me. I leaned forward into her embrace and swept her off her feet, positioning her on my good leg. Her legs fell in between mine, arms tightening around my neck.

“You scared me,” she whispered, hot against my ear.

“I scared me too. I’m sorry.”

She pulled back, running a hand through my hair. “Don’t be. But maybe it’s time you see someone. Just to talk. You need to talk.”

Talking scared me more. But her cold hands on my neck, the curves of her body pressed against me, her scent,
Kat . . .
that didn’t scare me at all.

“The only thing I need is you.”

As selfish as it was to hold on to her, I couldn’t let her go. In that moment I truly believed my words. But my problems were bigger than us. I just didn’t know it yet.

I was blissfully unaware that yes, I made it out alive—but a part of me died in that hallway. If I didn’t find a way to infuse life back into it, the shooter would win and I . . . I would be lost to the black cloud of fear and regret.

I woke up to four more messages on my phone and another text from Eli. Two messages were clients, one was Coach, and the other one was from some girl named Rebecca who I supposedly met at a party and never called, even though I promised to. I had no idea who she was.

I pulled up the first text.

Eli:
A simple fucking “I’m still alive” would be nice.

Guilt seeped through me, but I ignored it, along with the text. I rolled my head towards the alarm clock on my nightstand. Nine a.m. and still no Kat. Weird. I was getting used to waking up to the sounds of her puttering around in the kitchen.

Maybe she was here, just not in the kitchen. I stretched, and cringed when pain shot through my thigh. The mornings were the worst. Everything was stiff. It wasn’t like a stiffness you get after overdoing it at the gym either. There was no satisfaction in it.

I pushed myself to the edge of the bed and grabbed my crutches from their spot against the wall. I didn’t bother putting a shirt on. Kat was used to seeing me without one anyway. I knew she secretly enjoyed the view.

After a struggle with the stairs, I made it to the kitchen, but no Kat. She wasn’t in the living room either. I didn’t remember her or Mom telling me she had the day off. I pulled out my phone, about to call her, when the front door opened and closed.

I hobbled out of the kitchen and found Kat putting down her bag on the couch.

“I was wondering where you were. I was afraid I might have to make my own breakfast.”

She spun around, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Red circled her eyes, and her face was on the verge of shattering. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Kit Kat, what’s going on?” I stumbled forward and reached out, taking her hand. “What is it?” My heart raced at all the awful possibilities that popped into my head.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

I placed my hand under her chin. “Really? You’re going to use my own line on me? Try again.”

Her lip quivered. She took a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes. When she reopened them, all the emotion that was previously there was gone.

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not a big deal anyway.”

“No offense, but you look like hell.”

She gave me a dirty look, and damn if hell really looked like that I’d be more than happy to go.

“I’m just going to keep annoying you until you tell me. You know how persistent I am.”

Kat rubbed at her temple, her shoulders slumped and her gaze filled with defeat. “They shut my water off. Okay? I brushed my teeth with a glass of water I had on my nightstand from last night. I couldn’t shower. I was on the phone with the water company. That’s why I’m late. I had a shitty morning. Please don’t tell your mom. If my boss finds out . . .”

“Shh.” I rested my finger on her lip. “Tell my mom what?”

“Thank you.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and use our shower.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

“Afraid I might sneak in?” And man, would it be tempting as hell. Kat naked with suds dripping down her curves was right out of a fantasy.

Her lip lifted at the corner. “That’d definitely be up there on my list.”

“There’s a lock on the door. Next excuse.”

“I couldn’t impose. Plus I work for you. I can’t go taking showers like that.”

“No one needs to know.”

“But I have to fix you breakfast. And . . .” I placed my hand on her shoulder and when she didn’t look at me, I gently urged her chin up with my finger. A vulnerability that I hadn’t seen before filled her eyes. So many times I’d comforted her when she cried, but I’d never seen her look so defeated.

“I can have a bowl of cereal. You’ve been spoiling me anyway. I can’t get used to that. I won’t last a week in the dorms.”

Defeat was replaced by a flash of sadness. Her lips parted and her nose twitched. “Oh. Does that mean you’re going back?”

Why did I say that? The truth was I had no clue what I was going to do. College was my life for two years, and at times I missed it. But after the shooting . . . I didn’t think I’d ever be able to go back.

It was like I was back in high school all over again. Trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Just like back then, I didn’t want to plan it. I wanted to live it.

Kat’s cell phone rang, and I was thankful for the distraction. She looked at her phone and held up her finger. “Hello. Hi, Just. What’s going on? Everything okay?”

I listened as Kat turned into a mom. She asked her brother all the questions my mom asked when I called home from school. The somber tone Kat had when talking to me was gone, replaced with the upbeat Kat I only saw glimpses of.

It was like she’d turned a switch. I wondered if she did that a lot. If after her mom passed away, she pushed all her own feelings aside to focus on her brother.

She hung up the phone and slid it back into her pocket. “Sorry.”

“Is everything okay?”

She fingered the pearl in her ear. “Yeah, he just wanted to check in. I’m lucky he does. When he first left, I didn’t think he would.”

“Why not?”

“He was finally free. He had no obligations to me, really.”

“He’s your brother and you took care of him when he had no one else. You can’t just leave that behind.”

“We didn’t exactly have the best relationship after Mom passed. He was getting into trouble and didn’t want to listen to me. Can’t even tell you how many times he told me I wasn’t his mother. But it did get better before he left. So I guess you’re right.”

“When are you going to learn? I’m always right.” I said, and she rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you go shower? There are towels in the hall closet. Relax for five minutes. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

She nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Go. I’ll be here when you’re done. It’s not like I can go anywhere.”

Kat ran up the stairs and when I heard the sound of the shower, I shuffled to the kitchen. I took out a pan and grabbed the eggs, feta, and spinach from the fridge. I used to make omelets for myself and Liz in the summer when our parents were at work.

I turned the burner on and cracked the eggs.

For so long Kat had been caring for her brother. It was time somebody took care of her.

I’d never made an omelet on crutches before, but I managed. By the time the shower turned off, I had two plates and two glasses of orange juice on the counter.

Kat walked into the kitchen, her hair wavy and wet. Just like all those times we went swimming at our spot. Except now we weren’t at the beach, and I couldn’t bring her back to my pickup and make love to her.

But damn, I wanted to.

“Feel better?” I asked, hoping to get my mind off sex.

“Much.” She reached into her hair, pushing it out of her face and revealing the bare skin of her neck. And my mind was back on sex. That lasted long.

Her eyes glanced to the spread on the counter. Surprise touched her gaze. “Did you call for takeout?” she asked.

“I’d have you know I am a very good cook.”

She cocked her head. “I did not know that about you. What else don’t I know?”

“Sit down and I’ll tell you anything you want.”

Kat slid onto a stool, and I eased onto the one across from her. She looked at the omelet then forked a piece into her mouth. “Mmm. This is good.”

“Told you.”

“Where’d you learn to make omelets?” she asked and took another bite.

“Liz used to watch the Food Network a lot. Sometimes I paid attention.”

“That simple, huh?”

I nodded, ignoring my own food, too busy watching the enjoyment on Kat’s face. “How long has it been since you’ve had something homemade? Other than the breakfast you’ve cooked me,” I asked.

“I thought I was the one asking the questions?”

“You were, but change in plans. Question for question.” Kat put her hand on the counter and looked up at me, her lips parted, and I knew she was about to argue. “Just humor me. Please.” I flashed my notorious puppy dog stare.

Kat rolled her eyes. “Fine. A couple of weeks ago. It’s cheaper to buy TV dinners. Plus there aren’t any leftovers sitting in the fridge with no one to eat them.”

I always thought Kat was immune to my charm. But maybe she was sick of being so tightly closed up. Either way, I was taking advantage. I was going to get in as many questions as possible.

“Are you going to go back to college?” she asked.

“Couldn’t let that go, could you?”

“Nope.” She pointed her fork at me. “Now answer. Or the game is over.”

“Honestly. I don’t know. I miss it. But . . . I don’t know. Going back there . . .” The thought alone caused me to shudder. “I just don’t know. What about you? You ever going back? You did your part. Justin’s in school. You can do things for yourself now.”

I waited for her to dodge the question. Change the subject. Abandon the game.

She rubbed at her forehead. “I’ve thought about it. A million times, I’ve thought about it. But it’s just not feasible.”

“Why not?”

“School is expensive. I can barely afford to pay my bills as it is. Plus I would have to cut down on shifts, and then I really wouldn’t be able to afford my bills. It’s not in the cards for me. I accepted that a long time ago. I’m okay with it. I just want what is best for Justin.”

“Spoken like a true mom.” A smile tugged at the compliment. Probably the best compliment she could get. “So if you were to go back to school, what would you go for?”

“That’s two questions.”

“Is it?” I shrugged. “You can ask me two questions if you’d like.”

She shrugged. “It’s a fairy-tale thought, but I’d want to go to med school. I want to be an oncologist. I went with my mom to every treatment. Every doctor’s appointment. Her oncologist treated her like a friend. When my mom passed away, she came to the funeral.

“I know most oncologists wouldn’t. They’re impervious to death. But this doctor still had compassion, and I think it helped my mom hang on a little longer. As silly as it sounds, I wanted to be her. She always knew the right things to say. Knew all the best treatments that would suit my mom. Even knew when it was time for my mom to enjoy her final days without any more treatments. She’s making a difference every day, and that’s something I want. I want to live on a grander scale. Live for others, not just myself.

“John Bunyan said, ‘You have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.’”

“Who is John Bunyan?”

Kat laughed. “Sorry. Justin’s a history buff. Sometimes things he says stick. Honestly, I have no idea who John Bunyan is.”

This time I laughed. “I’ll Google him later.”

“Oh good. Then fill me in, so I can actually pretend I know who my brother is talking about.”

“Don’t worry, I got you. What’s he going to school for?”

“Liberal arts right now. He hasn’t pinned anything down. He loves history, so to me that means becoming a history teacher, but it’s like talking to wall.”

“Okay.” I held my hand up. “You just sounded like my mom. That’s a little creepy.”

Kat leaned across the counter and pushed my shoulder. Instinctively, I grabbed her wrist. We sat there, staring at each other. Two years ago I would’ve dove across the counter and pressed my mouth to hers. But it wasn’t two years ago. I didn’t want to chance it. She was finally talking.

I released my grip. Slowly, she pulled her hand back into her lap.

She bit her bottom lip. Silence spread between us, but then she said, “I think I get three questions now.”

Happy the awkward silence was over, I smirked and leaned back, resting my hands on the top of my head. “Ask away. I have nothing to hide.”

“How many girls have you slept with?”

I tried to stop my eyes from bugging out and let out a slow puff of air. “I’d rather not talk about that.”

“Why? I thought you had nothing to hide.”

I didn’t. I never expected her to ask that question. Out of all the questions she could ask me, really, it had to be that one? Ugh. There was no way to answer it without coming across as a total manwhore. To be honest, I’d lost count.

“Don’t have a coronary. You don’t have to answer it. By your reaction I can tell I don’t want to know.”

“It’s not like that.”

“It’s not?”

“Okay it is, but
. . .”
I was always the guy who knew what to say. Could talk my ass out of any situation. But this one—I was fucking clueless.

Kat waved her hand. “Seriously, forget I asked.”

I couldn’t let it go. I needed to explain. “If it helps, I didn’t love any of them.”

She glanced up, catching my gaze. She had to know that she was the only girl that ever meant anything to me.

“Actually, I don’t know if it does.”

And by the way her eyes dropped away from mine, it was apparent she didn’t.