Rewind to You (33 page)

“I don’t want it,” he says. “Put it back on.”

“No, Kyle,” I say, my voice even, firm.

Shock reads on his face. “That’s it? We’re done, just like that? So you can be with
him
?”

I try to hide my pain at the mention of Austin, but I know I fail miserably. Did it take being without Austin for me to realize what I had? Austin gave me laughter and hope and courage to live again. Yet this thought only makes everything worse. News flash: Austin isn’t mine. Sadly, maybe someday his heart will open to someone else like it did for me, and he’ll fall in love again.

Kyle studies my expression. “Oh, I get it. You blew Austin off, didn’t you? And now you’ve got nothing. Somehow you screwed up, and he won’t take you back. I’m right, huh?” He gives a nasty grin. “You know how I know, Sienna? Because you’ve done it to me a million freaking times. You don’t think I’m sick of all your crap? I am!”

Each word spilling from his lips is like a hard slap on my face. Anger swells inside me, and I suddenly find it hard to believe that I stuck it out with Kyle this long. This guy tried to kill a dog for revenge. Who does that? Kyle’s expression softens as fast as the flip of a coin. He’s the Two-Face, not Austin.

He puts a hand to my face. “Babe,” he says sweetly, his use of that term of endearment feeling all wrong. That’s what Austin calls me. “I’m sorry,” he continues. “I just want things to be good between us. I want to spend the next four years of college with you.”

Finally, I laugh. Just one tiny breath of air. We’re magnets all right, me and Kyle. Only now, instead of pulling together we’re repelling.

“Kyle,” I say with a wave of gumption, “I’m sorry, but the last three years with you ended in disaster. The next four would be a mistake.”

I turn and walk away, having said good-bye for real this time, something I should have done long ago.

I leave and find Spencer sitting on a bench playing his Nintendo DS.

I ruffle his hair, feeling different all of a sudden. Free. “Hey, Spence. Want to get out of here and grab some ice cream?”

“Aren’t you supposed to catch some flowers or something stupid like that?” he asks.

“Who wants to stand around and fight for a bouquet?” I say, clearly taking him by surprise. “What do you say?”

“Sure!” he exclaims. He hops off the bench, and we walk to the car together. As we jump into the front seats of Mom’s car, Spencer pulls something out of his pocket. “You probably want to read this.”

He hands me a padded envelope addressed to me. I recognize the small, almost messy handwriting. My mouth goes dry, my heart literally thrown offbeat.

“Spencer! You read it?”

“No, but can I have the coin?”

“What coin?” I say as something rolls out of the open envelope and lands on my lap: a silver dollar. I can’t pull the letter out fast enough. I hold my breath, and I read:

Sienna,

Can you guess where I am right now? River Street. I’m sitting on a bench, thinking about a night not too long ago when I caught a girl who fainted. Did I ever tell you what I thought as I held you, that I’d never seen anyone so beautiful? You told me you went to River Street looking for a silver dollar and you found one. I never told you what I found.

I went to the beach hoping to find you before you left, but you were already gone. I walked along the sand where we spent so much time together under the sun. I thought about the time we went paddle surfing and it rained. We ran for shelter. The pier. Why didn’t I ever tell you what I thought as I kissed you that first time, how I hoped you would be my last? There are so many things I should have told you.

You changed me, and for the better. It took you coming into my life for me to realize I was missing something.

I found my dad. I took your advice and used the address you gave me, and although some stubborn part of me wants to claim that it didn’t completely change my life for the better, I’d be lying. He’s better now, better than I ever would have imagined, and I’ve even learned a thing or two from him. Thank you for that. Thank you for a lot of things.

Remember that night we watched the stars over the Savannah River? I pointed to Venus, called it the North Star. You laughed. That’s what I found on River Street the night I met you, my North Star. I found my way again. You taught me so many things, how to trust, how to forgive. I can only hope someday you will forgive me, too.

I promise you this. I’ll never leave you waiting again. I’d stand on that beach forever, if I knew you’d come back.

Until next time,

Austin

I hold the letter in my hand like a winning lottery ticket, something too good to be true.
Until next time.
I smile.

“Now can I have the coin?”

“No, Spencer!” I laugh, happier than ever.

My cell vibrates in my purse. I yank it out, somewhat let down when I see the caller ID. I mean, honestly, did I expect Austin to call with such impeccable timing?

“Hey, Brian,” I say, knowing word of my mom’s embarrassing phone call to Gary has circled around to him by now. If Gary didn’t pay for the damages, if Brian’s parents didn’t, who did? Did Jesse forgive us? Doubtful.

“Sienna,” Brian says over and over as I’m lost in thought.

“Yeah? Sorry. What’s up, Brian? Out partying?” I ask, ready to wish him a fun time and call Austin.

There’s a heavy pause before he replies, “Not exactly.”

I hear it in his tone. I sense it in the thick silence. “Brian, what’s wrong?”

“Sienna, it’s not good. We exchanged cell phone numbers. I called to ask him a question for this bet I’ve got on the SEC,” Brian says hesitantly, not making any sense. “But his uncle answered instead. It’s not good.”

“You called whose cell, Brian? What’s going on?”

He pauses and takes a deep breath. Silence again, the type of silence that sucks all the oxygen from your lungs, that puts your pulse on hold.

“It’s Austin,” he says, his voice sympathetic. “He wasn’t wearing his helmet.”

It happens before I can think to stop it: the cold breeze drifting over me, the hammering palpitations in my chest. My cell hits the floor.
No helmet.

“Sienna?” I hear Spencer calling my name, his voice strained, but he and the dashboard are becoming a blur. I reach for my phone blindly, frantically. The onslaught of this seizure comes so fast, too fast. I can’t fight it. Can’t even begin to try. The bright light flashes over my eyes, and I wait for what feels like an eternity to see him.

The beach and the ocean come into view at last, and so does he. His blue eyes meet mine, his lips parting into a perfect smile. I wonder if this is the only way I’ll ever see him again.
Until next time.
There will always be a next time, but perhaps only for me.

Rain pours. We run for the pier together. He pulls me into his arms, his touch warm and heartbreaking. I welcome the rain that covers the tears streaming down my cheeks as his lips meet mine in the first kiss that really mattered.

And with pulse-stopping shock, I remember. I never told him. I never said those three words in return. I never told Austin I love him.

CHAPTER 45

Sienna

T
urn the clock ahead twenty-four hours, and I’m walking through the hospital with a feeling of déjà vu. I don’t glance at my reflection in a window I pass. I made that mistake in the airport. Dry, swollen, bloodshot eyes. I’ve bitten off all my nails. Loose strands of stiff, hair-spray-loaded hair hang from the updo I got yesterday at the salon with Brittney. That seems like an eternity ago: the wedding, breaking up with Kyle, reading Austin’s letter, and answering Brian’s phone call.

The elevator climbs like a bucket in a bottomless well that will never see daylight. Light streams in as the door finally opens, and so does the smell. It’s a smell that drags the memory of my dad’s death to the surface with a painful stab, a nauseating mixture of rubber gloves and disinfectants. It smells like sickness and sorrow. It smells like death.

He’s alive
. I’ve replayed these words in my mind during the past fifteen sleepless hours. Still, I fear the sight of him in that hospital bed, alive yet unresponsive. I decide it was better that my dad died instantly instead of lying there, life slowly draining from his body. I remember Austin telling me about his two concussions. As I wrap my arms around myself, I hate what I said in reply, something about three strikes and you’re out. I hate him too, for saying he had a hunch he wasn’t going to live long. I pray against that hunch as I approach his room.

Brian meets me and my mom at the entrance of Austin’s room. Other people are standing just outside, too: Aunt Debbie and Uncle Mark, Leo and Reggie, some guy I recognize as a waiter from the Aqua Star, and even Jesse. I half expect to see the saxophone player from River Street, the hippies Milo, Tolby, and Freedom, Mr. Saunders, or even the ice-cream scoop lady from River Street Sweets.

Mom stands next to Brian, her hands knit tightly together. Her eyes meet Jesse’s, and she gives a sheepish grin. She hasn’t said a word since Brian told us Austin paid for Spencer’s damages. That’s why she’s here, and I can tell she regrets how awful she’s been to Austin.

During the past fifteen hours, things have felt different between me and Mom, in a good way. Finally, after over a year, that invisible barrier between us has begun to melt. Who would have guessed Austin, of all people, would accomplish this?

Some people glance my way while others stare at the ground, but everyone steps aside. The door stands open as though it’s waiting for me. Suddenly I’m terrified to walk through that door, scared of the state I’ll find him in. The cast on his arm is the first thing I notice as I cross the threshold, then the bandage around his jaw, the cuts and bruises covering his face. He’s practically black and blue, and I take in a sharp breath.

Austin’s mom stands beside him, and I fear I’m intruding on her time with her son.

“I was thinking of getting a bite to eat at the cafeteria,” she says to my surprise, fidgeting with a tissue. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

I smile in return. Whether she’s telling the truth about being hungry, I’m not sure. Either way, she walks out, leaving me alone with her son.

I cross the room and sit at Austin’s bedside. One hand covers my mouth instinctively as I take in the sight of stitches running along his forehead and down around his left ear. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but not this. I didn’t have time to think about any of this.

I glance at the boy I first saw on River Street who looked so strong and perfect, almost indestructible. This doesn’t seem real. I wish it wasn’t. But as I touch his bruised hand, the reality of it all pulls like a rusting anchor hooked to my heart.

Austin’s hair is longer, like he hasn’t trimmed it since I left. Dark waves of hair spill over his forehead. It makes him look younger somehow, like a little boy. Vulnerable. I look at his closed eyes outlined in black and blue, the scrapes, bruises, and even deep gashes that mark his tanned skin. He’s still perfect. To me, he always will be.

“Austin?” I hate that his name comes as a question, like he’ll never reply. Multiple facial fractures, a broken arm, and a concussion that put him in a coma.

“I got your letter,” I say, the hard surfaces of the room making my voice echo. Talking like this feels strange—a one-sided conversation—but not saying anything seems even worse. I glance toward the door to confirm we’re alone and lower my voice. “You asked me if I remember the night we stargazed over the river. That was the day you showed me around Savannah, like my own personal tour guide. We ate at the Pirate’s House restaurant, and Jack Sparrow took the first picture of us together. Our only picture, actually. You held my hand for the first time as we looked at the stars. Austin, I was happier that night than I remember feeling in a long time. And as I looked at the picture of us on my iPhone, I realized I was toast. Totally falling for you.”

Gently, I slip my hand in his, careful not to touch the IV taped to his skin. “But I have a question for you.”

I pause, hating my subconscious for waiting as though he’d respond. I fill the silence. “Do you remember what you said to me when you dropped me off? After you asked whether I was going to date other guys, and I said yes? You said, ‘Good luck finding a night when I’m not around.’ ” A lone tear slides down my cheek. “Well, I’m still counting on you being around.”

His listless body becomes a blur behind a wall of tears. I push them back. “If I’d only known you were waiting for me on the beach, I wouldn’t have left Georgia. If I could go back, I’d tell you what I should have said all along.”

I brush a wavy lock of hair from his forehead and say it. “I love you, Austin, and nothing’s going to change that. Can you hear me? Not college in different states, not the different families we come from. No one’s going to change the way I feel for you. I love you. I always will.”

I lean against his bed, giving in to exhaustion. I rest my head next to him and lift his cast-free hand to my cheek, wishing he’d slide his fingers through my hair like he has so many times. Wishing he’d touch me back.

And he does just that. His hand softly glides across my face, his fingers running through my hair like medicine to soothe the pain. I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until I awake nearly an hour later. Austin lies where I left him, static and bruised. It was a dream, him touching me. Just a dream.