I'm breathing heavily as I stand propped against the bedpost, my rib aching, my leg throbbing, my heart ripped to shreds. I'm so angry. So pissed off I want to hit someone or something as hard as I can. But instead I crumble when I see the look of shock and worry on my dad's face.
"Daddy," I whisper softly, as the first tear drops onto my cheek, the second following swiftly behind.
"Come here, my olive," he murmurs, using the nickname only he and Danny ever called me. Then he picks me up and sits with me on my bed as I'm finally able to cry. My mother sits behind us and wraps her arms around us both, resting her cheek on my back. When I let loose, it isn't a simple cry. This is a full on, body-wrenching sobfest that seems to go on forever.
When my dad lays me in my bed, half asleep, I vow never to cry like that again. I don't want anyone to ever see that—even if that means holding it all inside. The pain is a good thing. It reminds me of all that I've lost.
CHAPTER 2
"Here is one of the worst things about having someone die: It happens again every morning."
-Anna Quindlen
Olivia
It's been four weeks since I lost Danny. Four weeks without his smile, his laugh, his touch. Four weeks without the feel of his lips on mine, and the hollow ache in my chest is starting to close in and feel like a steady stab. I don't want to feel but I can't make it stop. I won't cry. I need to hold the pain close—as close as I'd hold him, them. I shut my eyes and hug sleep tight.
***
"Olivia," a voice says and a soft hand pushes my matted hair away from my face. I don't open my eyes. I'm not ready to see her. He's only been gone five weeks.
"I know you're awake, Livvy. You can't hide forever," the woman who would have been my mother-in-law whispers.
I open my eyes and meet her baby blues identical to Danny's, and the stabbing in my chest starts to spread.
"He wouldn't want this for you, Liv. He would want you to live," Sarah Davidson, Danny's mom and the lady who I love as much as my own mother tells me.
I shake my head in denial as tears burn the back of my eyes. No crying.
"He wouldn't. You know it as well as I do, baby girl."
"He—" I croak.
"He would want you to go on. If it was him, would you want this for him?" she asks.
I shake my head.
"No, you certainly wouldn't and he wouldn't either. You know he would expect you to be the same strong girl he fell in love with."
"Oh, God," I gasp as pain and grief find me once again. I sob so hard it shakes my body. She pulls me up and cradles me to her chest, rocking and crooning to me how it'll all be all right. It won't be all right. It'll never be all right again. How can she say that?
I sob and wail and scream and howl at the injustice of it all. I knew life was unfair. I knew it, but what I didn't know is it was an unfeeling asshole that didn't pause for anyone's grief. No. It kept moving and shaking just as it's always done, even when the one we need and love the most is lost to us. Lost to us forever.
"He's gone. I want him back! I want them all back!" I shout.
"I know, my love. I know." The floral scent of the woman who birthed my forever envelops me while she rocks and rocks.
I don't know how long I cry but by the time I'm done, I'm hoarse, my eyes are swollen, and I feel as if I've been beaten from the inside out… starting with my heart.
"I want him back," I whisper.
"He'll always be with you, Olivia. He lives on in our hearts and in our memories."
I know she's right, but it's not enough. "I wish I'd died with them."
She shakes me. Hard. "I never want to hear you say that. Never again."
"We came in as the Fab Five. We should have gone out the same," I whisper.
"No. That's not how it goes. It's not fair and it sucks and it hurts so much you wish you could rip your heart from your chest to get rid of the ache, but that ache is telling you you're alive and you know as well as I do that Danny would've wanted you to live," she scolds. "He'd want you to continue living, Livvy. He'd want you to go to college just as you'd planned. He'd want you to find love again."
"No, no," I shake my head. "I can't."
She smiles softly as tears slide down her too-pale face. I look at her—really look at her and notice she's suffered as much as I have. She's lost her baby. I can't imagine what that's like.
"You'll find love again one day, Livvy, and Danny will look down on you and smile. Your heart is too big and full of love to not find someone to share it with again," she tells me and kisses my forehead.
"I will love Danny until my last breath," I tell her.
"I know you will, just as I will. Do me a favor and please don't close yourself off to love, Livvy," she pleads.
I shake my head. I can't promise that. I can't imagine ever loving anyone the way I loved my Danny. "I'll try."
"That's all I can ask for. Danny would want happiness for you. He wouldn't want you hiding in your bed, wasting life. He'd want you to celebrate it and live life, not only for you but for him as well."
I nod, knowing she's right. I suck in a shaky breath.
"Do it. Live for both of you."
For Danny I'd do anything.
"I'll try."
***
I spent another week in bed until my dad walked in, tore all the sheets and blankets off my bed, and then he poured a pitcher of cold water over my still-prone body. Needless to say, once I jumped out of that bed, my father wasn't going to let me crawl back in to wallow.
The next few weeks were spent learning to walk without my cast, reading, watching TV, and shopping. I'd changed and so should my appearance. I didn't want to look like the same person on the outside when inside I was someone else.
So, I bought a lot of dark colors—which my mom hates, but it feels like me—the now me. The then me wore colorful clothes, floral sundresses. I didn't throw those clothes away. Maybe one day I'll be that girl again. Maybe.
Tomorrow I'm officially moving to Prospect, New York—alone. Moving without the Fab Five is something that scares me down to my soul, but like Mrs. Davidson said, they would want me to go—to keep going.
They'd all be disappointed in my behavior since… the accident. I know it and they knows I know it. I feel them watching me sometimes.
Sometimes I think I can smell Danny—that scent of his Old Spice body wash. I grin as I remember teasing him about Old Spice. I told him my grandpa wore Old Spice. He told me to keep being a smartass because as soon as he was done showering I'd be eating my words—and I was. That body wash worked with his body chemistry so well, it was sexy as hell. Needless to say I never teased him about it again, just inhaled the scent of him as often as possible.
I lift up Danny's football jersey and breathe in his scent. It's faded, but it's there and his. I slip the jersey over my head, pretending the fabric surrounding my body is his arms, his body—him. I wrap my arms around myself and rock back and forth, biting my lip and blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill.
"Are you all packed?" my mom asks from the doorway.
I look up and nod.
"Do you have everything you need? We can make a run to the store if you're missing anything."
"I have everything, mom. And then some."
She grins. "Well, you can't blame a mother for wanting to make sure her baby girl has what she needs."
"I'll have enough body wash for the entire year," I tease, relaxing my arms a little.
Mom walks over and sits beside me on the bed. "Then that's one less thing I have to worry about."
I'm not sure what to say. I know she worries and I can't blame her, but…
I sigh. "Mom, you don't have to worry about me. I'll be okay." Somehow I'll find a way to be okay.
"Of course you will," she agrees, so confident in those words I almost believe them. "That's not why I'm worried. A mother will always worry about her children, no matter how young or old, near or far, and you're goin
g to be a long way from Destiny, North Carolina."
I nod. "But it's only a phone call, and we'll Skype and Facetime."
"We will, but it's not the same as having you physically here where I can wrap my arms around you."
That's the truth. That's exactly how I feel about Danny in this moment. I have his scent and his shirt, memories and love in my heart, but he's not here anymore. None of them are. Cassidy would be here right now, reassuring me about how we'll all fit in perfectly at Prospect University and that I'm freaking out for nothing. Phillip would be crude, talking about all the chicks he's going to "bang"—which would have been as many as he could. Simon would have found a way to make us all laugh about the scariest things, and I would have hugged and loved everyone until we all found our calm.
Now it's just me.
But I can do this. I can. Maybe if I tell myself that enough times, I'll actually start to believe it.
CHAPTER 3
"Grief is the last act of love we have to give those we loved.
Where there is deep grief, there was great love."
-Unknown
Olivia
Danny's been gone for nine weeks today. Each day has been a struggle, some days harder than others. Today is one of those.
I load the last box into the back of the SUV my dad got me for graduation and turn to face my parents. My mom hugs me tightly.
"Are you sure you don't want us to drive with you?" she asks for the hundredth time.
Dad smirks and rolls his eyes behind her back.
"No. I'll be fine, mom."
"But who will help you carry your things into your dorm?"
I step out of her embrace and smile at her. It looks real, but it's not. I'm really good at faking it.
"There are plenty of people around to help. Besides, I have a roommate and according to the RA, she moved in earlier this week," I reassure her. I hope.
I turn to hug my dad again.
"If you need anything, just call. Day or night."
"I promise, Daddy." It's about a twelve-hour drive from my hometown of Destiny, North Carolina, to Prospect University in Kingston, New York, which is why I'm up at the buttcrack of dawn. I smile at my use of Simon's phrase.
"Call when you—"
"—get there," I say interrupting my mom. "I'll call. I'll be careful."
She smiles sheepishly. "I know you will. I love you, Livvy."
"I love you too, Mom."
I head to the driver's door, open it, and climb in. I fasten the seatbelt and turn the key in the ignition. The doctors gave me some anti-anxiety medication just in case I had a freak out when I got in a car, but I haven't—only when I was a passenger. Once I got in the driver's seat, I was fine.
The only real place I have problems with vehicles is in my dreams.
I slip my sunglasses on, check my mirrors because my dad's watching, then put the SUV in reverse. I back out of the drive, then pause and look at the house one last time. My gaze immediately travels to the house next to ours—Danny's house. The sharp ache stabs in my chest again.
You can do this. I hear Danny whisper. I close my eyes and feel his warmth seep into me.
Where've you been? I ask silently.
I'm here. I'm always here. Live. The last word floats away on a whisper.
I wave to my parents, wiping the lone tear on my cheek, then settle in for my roadtrip to New York.
***
I pull into the parking lot at six. I made it in thirteen hours with all the stops for gas, food, and bathroom breaks. Not bad.
There are tons of people milling about, students and parents, some students trying to get away from their parents, and others clinging to them like a lifeline. This is why I didn't want my parents here. Not because I'd cling to them, but more like my mom cling to me. I just want to get my things in my room and start unpacking. I've got plenty of food for tonight. Tomorrow I'll go get some milk and other perishables.
Ah, there it is. Maple. I think it's both clever and silly that they've named the dorms after trees. They'll never run out of names and by the looks of it, there will be two more used very soon. New construction is going on behind the dorm next to ours.
Great. That means no sleeping in even on days I don't have an early class. I pull into a parking spot as close to the dorm as I can get and just sit and watch people.
I don't know if I can do this. I don't know anyone, I'm going to have a stranger as a roommate, and I'm so afraid to do this alone.
You can do this.
"I'm glad you think so, because I'm not so certain." And now people are staring as I talk to myself. Great.
I walk around to the back of the SUV and grab my suitcase and another duffle bag, slinging the latter across my body.
Here we go.
I make my way into the dorm. The halls are packed with people. I follow the lead from the girl in front of me and elbow my way through. When I get to the elevator, I stand and wait with about ten other people. I have no idea how we're all going to fit on that thing.
The doors open and at least fifteen people step off. Holy cow. We all pack into the elevator and we're crammed in tight.
"Floor?" a good looking guy asks beside me.
"Th-three," I say, my voice cracking. Ugh.
One side of his mouth kicks up in a smirk. I'm not sure if he's laughing or amused—either way, it's a move of arrogance and one I don't care for.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and take note of the tattoos cover his arms and coming up his chest to his neck. I wonder what year he is. No way is he a Freshman.
"Three," he calls out, nudging me with his elbow, flashing me a smile.
"Thanks," I say breathily.
I step off the elevator and am slammed into by someone behind me. I turn around, my gaze landing inside the elevator and on the bad boy inside.
He gives me a wink. "See you around, Three."
With that, the doors close.
I smirk a little, then remember bad boys aren't my style. They're only out for one thing. I know this because Phillip was a bad boy just like Elevator Boy and he slept with every chick in Destiny and the surrounding cities. Bad boys = manwhores. No thanks.
Making my way down the hall, I count down the numbers. Three fourteen. Three twelve. Three oh nine. Here we are. Three oh three. On the end. This could be a very good thing. At least I'll only have to deal with noise from one side and not two. Oh yes, a very good thing.
I start to put my key in the lock when the door flies open.
"Hi!" a perky brunette chirps. It takes me a minute. "I'm Alexa—"
"Stone," I finish for her.
"Ohmigod! Olivia Brennan, is that really you?" she asks.
Nope, it's someone else—someone who doesn't want to room with anyone from Destiny, North Carolina. Someone who doesn't want to deal with the pity. Someone who doesn't want to talk about everything—because I know without a doubt she's going to ask.
"Yep, it's me," I reply, giving her a fake smile.
"Well, this is fab!"
"Yeah," I answer.
Alexa was a pretty good friend to the Fab Five. She's nice, genuine, and honest. I think the honest part is what's giving me problems. I'm not sure I can be dishonest to someone I know who's always been kind to me.
"Let's get you situated," she encourages.
I walk into the room, noting it's a common area with a sofa and a couple chairs. I look at Alexa and she grins.
"I hope you don't mind. My mom was redecorating and gave me the old things to use here," she tells me sheepishly.
Old things? This furniture looks new.
"And the TV?" I ask.
"That was my idea," a deep voice says from behind me. I close my eyes already knowing who it is. The one person at Destiny High who hated me.
I turn and meet the emerald green eyes of Cameron Stone. That's what his face is like right now—stone. No expression. Mouth in a flat line. My gaze lingers on his full lips. Cassidy and I always
talked about how sexy his mouth was. I blink then remember what he said.
"Is that right?"
"Yep. Got a problem with that?" he asks, shouldering past me with a box of Alexa's things.
"Nope." I turn to Alexa and point to the left. "I take it this room is mine?"
"Yeah, I hope you don't mind. I don't like being on the end with the windows like that."
"I don't mind." I'm grateful, really. It's like a little cube in the corner of the building where I can hide away.
"Your desk and shit was delivered yesterday," Cameron announces.
"Cam," Alexa chides.
"Princess has to have her own bed," he mocks.
Alexa elbows him in the gut and I smirk. The animosity between us is no secret and it's not fair for him to put Alexa in this position.
"Thanks," I reply. "I better get moving. I have a lot to do."
I turn and walk into my room. It's bigger than I expected. I'm glad my bed made it before I did or I'd never be able to sleep tonight. I cracked one of my cervical vertebrae in the accident and one lower in my back, so if I don't have the proper support I can barely move the next day.
I walk over to the desk positioned in front of the windows. I like it here. I'll be able to look out while I contemplate Psychology 101.
I set my stuff down and head toward the door when I hear hushed voices arguing.
"You really could be nicer to her, Cameron. She's been through so much," Alexa says.
Cam snorts. "She's fine. She's fake and I don't like her."
Fake? Me?
"She is not."
"Whatever. Just because you're roommates doesn't mean I have to be her friend," he says sharply.
Alexa sighs. "What do you have against her anyway? She's never done a bad thing to anyone. She's one of the nicest people I've ever met."
"I don't have anything against her. I just don't like fake people. I have enough of those in my life," he replies and Alexa remains silent. I wonder what that's about—and I am not fake.
Without a glance at either of them, I head out the emergency door that's propped open and bound down the stairs. I grab the small dolly Dad bought for me. It folds up into nothing but it can cart some serious weight. My dad knows his stuff and right about now I'm so thankful for that. My back would take a beating otherwise.