I loosened my grip on my knees. “Dary is the same. She just wants everyone to be normal, you know? She just wants us all to be friends. It’s not like she wants to forget about Megan or any of the guys, but I...I don’t think she wants to think about it anymore. So it’s hard to think about dragging it back up.”
“Talking about what you’re dealing with isn’t dragging it up,” he said, and I wasn’t sure I agreed. “And Abbi?”
“She hasn’t said anything about me not being drunk since the first time, but she barely talks to me.” Sadness poured in like a torrential downpour, because I missed Abbi as much as I missed Megan. I couldn’t bring one friend back, and I had no idea how to fix things with the other. “I don’t know if I told you this, but I...I brought up how she came to the party with Chris and had thought he’d already been drinking.” I shifted, uncomfortable. “She said it wasn’t the same because no one died when she was in the car.”
“Well, it’s often hard for people to admit that they, too, have made potentially life-altering choices when they did not receive any consequences for them. It is even more difficult for people to look at themselves and acknowledge that they are not perfect, that at times in their life they have also been that person. That they, too, have made decisions that could’ve ended disastrously.”
Dr. Perry crossed one leg over the other. “Some people are simply lucky. Some are not. But some learn, even when they didn’t suffer. They see situations like yours, and it serves as a painful wake-up call that they could’ve been where you are, which creates a lot of internal conflict. That’s hard to recognize. It’s always easier to point out the flaws in others while ignoring your own.” He lightly drummed the end of his pen on the table. “Then you have those who never learn a lesson in their life, but they will be the first to cast judgment.”
I nibbled on my nail. “But their judgment is on point, though. I could’ve walked away. I could’ve tried to get the keys from Cody. I could’ve gone back to the party and found Keith or Sebastian or—”
“Yes, you could’ve done that. You could’ve not caved to the pressure from your friends and decided that you were not going to ride with him. You might’ve been able to convince Megan to stay behind. You might not have, and that accident still would’ve happened. You may have gotten the keys from him or he may have ignored you and still gotten behind that wheel.” He paused, sighing heavily. “Cody had quite a bit of weight on you. You can’t know you would’ve been able to get those keys, or if he would’ve hung around while you went and found someone else.”
“But I could’ve tried,” I whispered, dropping my feet onto the floor.
“You could have, Lena, but you didn’t. What you did do is ask him if he was okay. You didn’t listen to that little voice inside you that told you differently when he answered, but...” He sighed. “I’m going to be really honest with you right now. Is that okay?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Have you not been honest this whole time?”
A brief grin appeared. “You made some bad choices that night. You fully understand that, and you accept that. You’re not deluding yourself. You haven’t created a revisionist history of events. You could’ve convinced yourself that there was nothing you could’ve done, but you haven’t. You know what happened, and what could’ve happened but didn’t. That’s never going to change. You’re going to have to learn to live with the decisions you’ve made, accept them, learn from them, grow from them and become a better person because of them.”
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I was glad I hadn’t worried myself with mascara this morning, because it would’ve been all over my cheeks by now. “But how do I get to that part where I accept the decision I made? That I become this magically better person? When I stop feeling like the worst human being on the planet?”
“You’re not the worst human being on the planet.”
I shot him a droll look.
He arched a brow as he lifted a hand. “Most big changes happen slowly...and, also, all at once.”
“That makes no sense.”
“One day you will just realize you’ve made it through this part of your life and you’ve accepted what cannot be changed. That is when you’ve moved on. It will feel like it happened suddenly, but in reality, it’s been a work in progress.”
My eyes narrowed. “That’s not exactly helpful.”
Dr. Perry smiled in a way that said one day I wouldn’t hold that same opinion. “A good place to start is opening up with those you care about.”
A burst of panic lit up my stomach.
“You have a choice. Either continue the way you have been with them, always worrying about what they’d do if they found out. We know that’s exhausting, and it’s already hurting your friendships.” He was right. “Or you could open up to them.”
“But what...what if they hate me?” I asked.
“Then they never were truly your friends in the first place,” he replied. “They may be mad, at first, and even disappointed, but when someone is truly a friend—truly cares about another person—they accept them for all their flaws.”
I started nibbling on my finger again. I wasn’t sure what I’d done was something that could be considered just a flaw.
“How are things with you and Sebastian?” he asked.
A heavy sadness hit my veins. I thought about how I saw him with Skylar the other day, the rumor that Dary had heard, and I shook my head, because that wasn’t important. He’d come into Joanna’s for lunch on Saturday, after practice, like he used to do before...before everything. He’d ordered pie and milk, but it wasn’t like it used to be.
“It’s not that great,” I said finally. “I want to tell him, but I think, what if he hates me afterward? I know you say he was never my friend if that happens, but he was. He was my best friend, and what I did...”
Dr. Perry’s steady gaze met mine. “There’s something I want you to understand. You did not kill your friends, Lena. You made a poor decision that night. They made poor decisions that night, too.
“You did not kill them.”
* * *
After classes I closed my locker door and slung my backpack over my shoulder. Dull pain flared down my arm, but I barely winced as I pivoted around and started down the hall. Faces were a blur. They’d been a blur all day as my session with Dr. Perry repeated over and over.
Since I’d already known that I hadn’t technically killed my friends, Dr. Perry’s parting words really didn’t put me at ease. I didn’t drink and drive that night, but I hadn’t done everything in my power to stop Cody. So I wasn’t legally responsible. I hadn’t technically done it.
I was, however, morally responsible.
Which I was discovering was a heavy weight to carry, because how did you shed that kind of culpability? I wasn’t sure you ever could.
But I was willing to try.
I hadn’t gone to lunch, my stomach too twisted up in anxious knots from what I planned to do. Dary had texted while I was hiding out in the library, and I’d told her I was fine, just had to study for an exam.
I knew what I needed to do when I got home, and the mere thought of it made me want to hurl all over my shoes. Maybe that was why, as I came down the stairwell and hit the main hall heading out to the parking lot, I stopped by the closed double doors to the small gym. Maybe I was procrastinating. Maybe it was something else.
Peering through the small windows, I felt the muscles in my stomach clench as I watched the girls run sets across the court. Coach Rogers stood by the net, calling out commands. The walls and thick doors muted most of his deep voice. There were only a few more weeks in the season. I’d been paying attention. The team had had a good year and they would most likely make it to the semifinals.
I should be in there.
The moment the thought finished, I squeezed my eyes shut against the sudden wave of regret. I could’ve played the last couple of weeks since the cast came off. I could’ve—
I could’ve done a lot of t
hings.
But it was too late for that. I’d made my choice to leave the team, and I couldn’t go back on that, even if I did miss playing. When I was out on the court, my brain had shut down. I hadn’t obsessed over Sebastian. I hadn’t stressed over Mom or worried about my absentee father. I’d just been out there, focusing on the ball—on my team.
“I can play again,” I whispered, and my body jerked. Surprised, I opened my eyes. The team was over by the bleachers. I could play again. Try out for a college team. I might not make it, but I could try. I could—
The sound of footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts. Hand tightening on the strap of my bag, I stepped back and glanced down the hall.
It was Keith.
I hadn’t seen him all day. He was dressed like he was coming back from a banquet, in dark trousers and a button-down white shirt. His gym bag was on his shoulder, football cleats dangling from one of his hands.
Our gazes connected and his footsteps slowed. “Hey,” he said, glancing at the doors beside me. “What are you up to?”
Having no idea how to explain what I was doing, I shrugged. “You heading to practice?”
“Yeah.” He stopped in front of me, and there was no way I could miss the slight red rimming his eyes. “I had a meeting thing with my parents and...and the lawyers. Took most of the afternoon.”
My stomach dropped as I remembered that Keith was dealing with a whole different set of consequences from that night. How could I have forgotten about that? “How...how is everything going with that?”
Lifting his free hand, he scrubbed his fingers over his head. “It’s not... Yeah, it’s not good. Our lawyer is advising them to take a plea deal. You know, a fine and community service to avoid jail time.” He drew in a deep breath, dropping his hand. “There’s the civil suits, you know?”
I nodded, unsure of what to say.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I said.
A muscle flexed along his jaw as he looked away, and then his gaze found mine once more. “Why didn’t you join the suits? You were hurt pretty bad. You were in that car.”
Not expecting that question, I floundered for words. “I...I just didn’t think it was the right thing for me to do.” And it wasn’t. I hadn’t been drinking that night. I should’ve been sued myself. “I just don’t want to be a part of it.”
He nodded slowly and a long moment passed. “My parents aren’t bad people. They let us drink at home because they thought it was safer. That we wouldn’t be out there driving...” I knew all of this. “Cody could’ve stayed with me. He knew that we had an open-couch policy. Everyone could’ve stayed. That was the agreement. Have fun, but don’t drive if you’ve been drinking.” Keith cursed under his breath. “Cody knew that.”
My chest constricted. His parents weren’t bad people. They were people who, I guessed, just didn’t think things through. They were good people who’d made a series of bad decisions when it came to allowing everyone to hang out at their house. “I know.”
“I don’t know... I don’t know what’s going to happen.” His shoulders slouched. “I mean, they’re going to lose the farm, the orchards, everything.” He looked over my shoulder, shaking his head. “I don’t even know why I’m going to practice. Like, what’s the fucking point? Shit.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.
A flicker of surprise crawled across Keith’s face, and then it was washed away with disbelief. His mouth moved as if he was about to say something, but he didn’t. I knew then. I knew right then that he couldn’t understand why or how I was apologizing, and it hit me with the force of a speeding truck.
Keith was just like me.
He blamed his family.
He blamed himself.
He didn’t see the point in doing the things he did before.
He felt these things even though, at the same time, he wanted to defend his family and himself. It wasn’t fair, because Keith hadn’t done anything. He didn’t deserve this, but he...
He was just like me.
I never saw it until this moment. I knew Abbi had realized it already, but because I was so caught up in my own guilt, my own pain, I never saw Keith. I never saw Abbi or Dary. I never saw Sebastian. I never saw this entire school grieving. I saw only myself.
Keith dipped his chin. “I’ve...I’ve got to go.” He sidestepped me. “I’ll see you later, Lena.”
“Bye,” I whispered, turning as he walked away. I watched him go and I stood there long after he disappeared from view. A hundred different thoughts were racing through my head all at once as I started walking down the hall, but one question stood out among all the others.
Was I a good person who’d just made a bad choice?
* * *
Out on my balcony, I paced back and forth as I waited for Sebastian to get home from practice. He hadn’t texted, but I’d messaged him as I sat in my car after class and asked if he’d come over. My heart had been pounding the whole drive home. He hadn’t come to my room since that night.
It was a little after four when he texted back and said he would come, and while I’d been able to breathe a little easier, I was now a nervous mess.
Tugging the sides of my cardigan together, I walked to the end of the balcony and peered around to the front of the house, my breath halting in my throat. His Jeep was now out there. My gaze flicked up, and I saw a light on in his bedroom. When had he gotten home? I had no idea. Practice could run for hours.
As I stood there, I wished I hadn’t eaten the entire plate of spaghetti for dinner, because now I felt like hurling.
I figured I’d talk to Sebastian first, because I’d known him the longest. And, well, he’d said he loved me. I’d probably ruined that with the harsh crap I’d spewed at him, but he deserved to know what happened.
And so did Abbi and Dary.
They’d be next.
I just had to get past this conversation.
The light flipped off, and I gasped out a little squeak, but I couldn’t move. I stood at the edge of the stairs that led into the backyard until I saw the back door open and Sebastian walked out onto the brick patio.
Even from where I stood in the failing light, I could tell he’d taken the time to shower. His hair was wet, slicked back in a way that highlighted the sharp, high cheekbones. He was wearing a pair of jogging pants, the kind that hung low on the hips, and a thermal.
God, he was breathtaking, and I wished he hadn’t stopped to take a shower and instead smelled of sweat and had dirt and grass staining his skin.
Who I was kidding? I’d still find him stunning.
Sebastian crossed the patio, stopped at the edge and looked up. He appeared completely frozen for a second, possibly realizing that I’d been out there waiting for him.
Then he walked up the side of the house and passed through the gates, and my pulse was all over the place. He came around the corner and then started up the steps.
Only then did I move.
Edging backward, I clasped my hands together. His head crested the top and then he was right in front of me, towering over me, his sea-blue eyes guarded, as they had been since the last time he’d been here.
His eyes held mine. “I’m here.”
“Can we...go inside?” I asked.
Sebastian’s gaze darted to the door and he hesitated—and it hurt, because he’d never hesitated—but then he nodded curtly.
I walked to the door and opened it, letting him in before he changed his mind. From there I went to the bed and sat on the edge. Sebastian took the computer chair.
“Keith said he saw you right before practice,” he said.
“We...we just chatted for a few minutes.”
Sebastian waited, and when I didn’t say any more, a muscle popped out in his jaw. Mouth dry, I focused on the map as I blurted out the stupidest possible thing ever to come out of my mouth, which was saying something. “How are things with you and Skylar?”
Silence and then, “Is
that why you wanted to talk to me tonight? About her?”
“No,” I said immediately. “Just ignore that. I don’t even know why I asked.”
“Of course not,” he muttered.
I flinched. “I need to tell you something. Well, I need to first say I’m sorry for what I said to you that, um, that last time you came here. That wasn’t right.”
“No,” he replied. “No, it wasn’t.”
I winced but kept going. “I know what we were doing wasn’t about... It wasn’t about getting laid.” I flushed hotly. “And I know you miss your friends as much as I do, and I shouldn’t have insinuated otherwise.”
Sebastian didn’t reply, so I shifted my gaze down to him. He was watching me intently with those eyes, his head tilted slightly. Then he spoke.
“It took you a month to apologize?”
“It shouldn’t have. I’ve wanted to before now, but...” I swallowed hard. “I don’t have a good excuse except that I’ve been