"Kat, what are you talking about? Dan didn't die because of you. He died because some fucking truck driver decided texting was more important than the lives of Jessica, Tracey, and Dan," Brian's shouted. His voice bounced off my walls in angry waves, drowning out my own anger from moments before.
I sagged against the counter. He had no idea what he was talking about. Dan had died because of me, and when Brian found out he would no longer think I was a martyr. He would know the truth. I debated not saying anything to bury the truth as I had been doing. But I was sick of burying it. I was sick of it haunting me at night in my nightmares. Most of all, I was sick of all the guilt that continued to drown me.
I opened my mouth to tell him but the words got stuck in my windpipe. I swallowed, trying to dislodge them. "Brian, I let your brother go." I leaned against the counter as the memories crashed in.
Graduation night
"Tonight," Dan promised, running his finger down the inside of my arm.
"Yes," I breathed, reaching for my seatbelt.
"Kat," he warned with humor in his voice.
My fingers moved to my seatbelt to unlatch it.
"Uh-uh," Dan murmured in my ear, placing his hand over mine before I could undo my seatbelt.
"Zach won't even know," I whispered, looking up to the front of the vehicle. Just as I expected, Zach was focused on the road ahead as he merged onto the highway. Zach was a born rule follower. The Boy Scout of our group.
Dan's lips found my earlobe and he tugged gently on it with his teeth. "Forget Zach. Your mom would have my head if she knew I let you take your seatbelt off," he whispered as his hand settled on my thigh.
I turned to scold him for teasing me with his touch and not allowing me capitalize on it right before the vehicle shuddered violently. Something had rammed into my side. Panic seized me as a blur of screeching metal pressed against my window, shattering the glass. Dan reached for my hand, gripping it hard in his as he pulled me away from the shower of glass. I held on to his hand as Jessica's screams filled the vehicle. Everything around me tilted like an amusement park ride. I watched morbidly as Tracey's head slammed against the window with so much force I was surprised it didn't explode. It couldn't be happening. We had to be in a nightmare that I would wake from, in my own bed. The wheels of the Suburban left the road and my body pressed against Dan.
"Don't let go of me," Dan ordered, trying to keep me anchored to the middle of the seat, away from the glass that was still raining in from my broken window.
I gripped his hand, pressing my body against his. Everything was happening too fast. This wasn't real.
A scream tore through my throat as the vehicle lost its ability to stay upright. My fingers started to slip from Dan's. Panicking, I attempted to tighten my hold on him as the rolling vehicle threatened to take him from me. We flipped over and over again with stomach-churning force. I could feel his fingers slipping away. I knew I couldn't let him go, but my hand was slick. In the dark I couldn't see why my hand was suddenly wet … all I knew was Dan's hand was being ripped from mine. I cried out for him, but it was too late. He was pulled away from me into the crush of the vehicle that was being swallowed. It closed in around Dan, trapping him on every side. He was gone.
My sobs filled my apartment. All the tears that had been locked up poured out of my eyes, threatening to drown me in my loss. I'd been alone with my tears and demons months ago, except this time I wasn't really alone. Brian was with me. His arms were around me as I finished telling him about that night. The sobs had come before I could finish. I'd let his brother go, but he was comforting me. I realized he would never see me for who I really was. The rose-colored glasses he wore where I was concerned kept him from seeing the stark truth right in front of his nose.
"Kat, it's not your fault," he murmured, stroking a hand over my head.
"You're wrong," I choked out. "He told me not to let go of him. I failed him." I pulled away, no longer crying. Anger had swept in replacing my grief from moments before. "I let him go. Why don't you get that? I'm not perfect like you seem to think I am," I yelled, surging to my feet. "I'm all alone now because I couldn't hold on to your brother's hand." I swept my arm across my counter, sending everything flying in every direction. My anger vibrated through me like a live wire threatening to obliterate anyone in its path.
Brian watched me with pity, fueling my fire further. I hated him for it. I didn't want pity. I wanted my life back. I wanted to rewind time so bad I practically shook from it. Why weren't we allowed just one do-over?
"Get out," I snarled at him, unable to face his pity for even a second longer. I was being unreasonable. I knew it. He knew it. That didn't stop me from pointing at my front door with finality.
The pity slid off his face like a mask at the end of a masquerade ball. Beneath it was aggravation and anger. Momentary relief filled me. Finally. I was finally no longer perfect in his eyes.
"You can get angry at me, Kat. You can blame me for all your shortcomings. Dish it out as much as you want. I'll leave you alone, but I will wait for you, Kat. I've waited half my life for you. Eventually you'll be done feeling sorry for yourself and you'll be ready to start living again. You give me a call when that happens." He leaned down to pick up his phone, which had been a casualty of my outburst. Without a backward glance he strode from my apartment.
The door closed with a resounding click behind him. I wanted to call him back. Beg him not to leave me. His words ricocheted around my apartment, inviting in the ghosts I'd refused to allow enter.
I walked with feet that felt like they were encased in cement to the front door, locking it behind him. The ghosts filled the living room, crowding in on me. They all had something to say, but all I cared about was the absence of Brian's presence. His absence cut me to the very core, leaving nothing but another crack in my fractured heart. I could feel the last few pieces of my heart break away. This was nothing new. My heart was already shattered.
With mechanical movements I cleaned up the mess I'd made and then pulled my running gear on. I was anxious to escape the ghosts haunting my apartment. Though running did little to hold them at bay as I tried to outpace them. I knew I couldn't outrace them this time. Eventually they'd catch me.
Slowing my pace to a walk, I finally allowed them in. They enveloped me in their embrace, greedily seeking what I'd denied them for two years—a voice. A voice to berate me. A voice to finally say their goodbyes. I let them all have their say. I could practically hear Jessica telling me it was time to pull on my big girl panties and adult up. Tracey's ghost was gentler, reminding me we'd always be friends even with them gone, that my heart wasn't really shattered but merely a puzzle that needed to be reassembled. Dan's ghost was the hardest, understandably. He didn't yell at me, curse me, or blame me as I'd anticipated. He simply told me he'd always love me but reminded me it was time to let them all go. It was time for me to move on.
I walked for hours, letting my ghosts go one at a time until I was once again all alone. My aloneness felt different this time. It didn't hold the bleakness I was so used to. Instead, a small seed of hope had begun to grow in the pit of my stomach. I knew what I needed to do.
I arrived back at my complex and didn't even bother going up to my apartment. I climbed in my car. I gave no consideration to the lateness of the evening as I steered the car to the destination my heart was dictating.
Only one light was on when I pulled up in front of the familiar house. Glancing at the time on the dashboard, I debated saving this for another day when it wasn't so late. I climbed from the car before I could lose my nerve. I knew if I put this off I might never find myself back here.
My feet propelled me up the front walk and three shallow steps before I could lose my nerve. It had been four months since I stood in front of this door filled with enough doubt and pain to sink a battleship. I felt lighter this time as I touched my finger to the doorbell and pushed it once. I could hear the bell chiming inside the house, followed by heavy
footsteps on the stairs. Maybe this was a mistake. What if she wasn't there?
The door swung open before I could second-guess my actions. While before there had been anger and pain standing in front of me, now there was only nostalgia and memories. So many memories my knees almost gave out beneath the weight.
"Kat?" Mackenzie asked, confused to see me standing on her parents' porch at ten o'clock in the evening. Her face wasn't as forgiving as it had been four months ago. It was more leery. She was afraid I'd hurt her again. I gulped, ashamed of my actions up to this point. Brian had been right about so many things. Selfish had nothing on me. I was the very definition of the word.
"Hi, Macken…Mac," I corrected. "I was wondering if we could talk."
She eyed me critically while trying to get a read on me. I didn't blame her caution; I'd lashed out at her last time. She was bracing herself for another onslaught. I tried to smile at her to show her I was here to make peace. My smile felt off-kilter, and I was afraid it must have come out more of a grimace by the way she frowned at me.
My heart thudded painfully in my chest at her frown. She was going to turn me away. I could tell. She had every right to. If I were in her shoes, I probably would have.
"Please," I begged, setting my hand on the door so she wouldn't close it in my face.
Seventeen
Mac didn't turn me away. Instead, she stepped out on the porch to join me. With the help of her cane she walked past me to the porch swing. I followed, waiting for her to lean her cane against the house and settle herself on the swing before joining her.
The swing swayed beneath us as I climbed on. I remembered when Mac's dad had installed it. He'd made sure it was long enough for all us girls to sit on when we were younger. Eventually only three of us could fit at a time as we grew. He'd solved the problem by installing a second swing directly in front of it. I couldn't help noticing that the second swing had been removed and reinstalled at the far end of the porch. Just another change in a long line of changes.
"Your dad moved the other swing," I said, breaking the silence.
Mac nodded, using her good leg to make our own swing sway beneath us. "It was easier when my leg was in the brace," she said, looking straight ahead.
I wondered what she was thinking. She was probably confused about my sudden appearance.
"Zach says you've been visiting him." Her voice was accusatory. She was angry.
"Yes."
"You could see him but you couldn't see me?" she asked. Her words were like darts. Quick and concise, seeking the bullseye.
I nodded in the dark. "Yes."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Maybe because he's still broken. It was easier to relate to him."
"I'm not broken," she said. It was a statement, not a question.
"No, you're not broken."
"That's not my fault."
"I know."
"But you still blame me?" she said sarcastically.
"I was jealous."
She turned to me. "You, jealous? You've never been jealous a day in your life. It was always all of us who envied you."
I shook my head. "I didn't know that. I assumed all of you thought I was crazy for weaving my life so completely around Dan's."
She smiled. "We did, but that didn't mean we weren't envious how devoted you two were to each other."
Neither of us spoke for a few minutes after that. The bugs in the trees around us filled the silence for us, buzzing steadily. During the day the sun and heat drove them into hiding, but at night they came out in droves.
"He cheated on me with Cindy junior year. Did you know?" I asked, breaking the silence.
If she was shocked, her face didn't show it. "I didn't, but I guess I'm not surprised," she said with brutal honesty.
"You're not?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Not at all. All the guys were trying to prove something junior year. That's why I finally caved and slept with Zach. I knew he was chomping at the bit to turn in his boy card. You'd made it clear that you wanted to wait, and I'm sure Dan was feeling the pressure of being a virgin when all his pals were now proud card-carrying members of the man club."
"Dan never told me any of that."
"He wouldn't, would he? Dan always acted like he was scared he was going to lose you or something. I was always jealous of how overprotective he was."
I nodded. She was right about that. Maybe that was what had endeared him to me. Dan acted like I was the most important person in his life. "Of course that didn't stop him from sleeping with Cindy. I wonder why she never said anything. It's not like her to keep something like that quiet."
Mac braced her foot against the wooden porch before lifting it so our swing would once again sway back and forth. "Maybe that's when she was dating Todd Mitchell. She probably was afraid of screwing that up. We all know how proud of herself she was for snagging him."
"I guess I'll never know." I couldn't ask Dan, and the thought of looking Cindy up just to ask her about her past relationship with my boyfriend made me want to hurl.
"Why did you cut me off, Kat?" Mac asked, done beating around the bush. Her voice was laced with pain. I'd hurt her. I made so many mistakes during the last two years I wasn't even sure it was possible to atone for all of them.
I waited a moment to answer her, trying to form the words to make her understand the decisions that had led us to this moment. Taking a deep breath, I plunged in. "Did you know I was the only one from our group at the funeral?" I asked, running my hand along the warped wood of the swing. "Alive anyways. Do you know how hard that was? I was sandwiched between all our parents grieving the loss of our friends. I wanted to die that day." Mac sucked in a gasp of air next to me, but I kept going. I'd come this far. It was time to get it all out on the table. "More than I'd ever wanted anything in my entire life. Death would have been easier. I was furious that you and Zach were in the hospital missing the single worst day of our lives. It was beyond your control. I know that, but at the time I was still angry that I was the only one who showed up to shoulder the burden of it all. Our three best friends were laid out in wooden boxes and you guys had left me alone. I hated you for it." My voice shook and cracked, but I continued, not even aware Mac had reached for my hand. "My anger helped. Don't you see? It helped me survive. I was dying that day, Mac. I could feel it in my chest. My heart was being crushed in on all sides. I don't think our hearts were built to handle so much pain in a single instant like that. The anger helped me survive. I'm not proud of myself. Matter of fact, most days I hate myself. I know that doesn't help."
Tears ran down Mac's cheeks unchecked as she gripped my hand in hers. "I wanted to go to the funeral so bad. I begged my doctors, but they wouldn't release me. I'm so sorry you were alone. Everything was such a mess. It's hard to believe that one split moment in our lives could wreak such havoc." Her voice was saturated in sadness, and I was sorry I'd dumped all this on her.
"I didn't tell you this to make you sad or to feel like you had to apologize. All of that is on me. I could have been tougher. I could have stayed or at least answered your letters, but it was all so hard. Their ghosts haunted me everywhere I went. I couldn't shake the images of the accident from my head."
"Me either," she whispered, swiping her free hand over her cheek to dry her tears. "I still have nightmares."
"You do?" I'd assumed she moved on. "But you're with the EMT from that night. Isn't he a glaring reminder of everything?"
She smiled at me sadly. "It was at first. I almost blew it with him because of my hang-ups. I finally realized it was okay to let the past go. It didn't mean I was forgetting about Tracey, Jessica, or Dan, but it meant I was able to let some of the pain go. Bentley helped. He understood how hard it was, and he didn't care about this," she said, lifting her bad leg. "I still have my bad days, but the good ones outweigh them ten to one now."
"I'm not sure I'll ever get there."
"You will," she said, giving my hand a squeeze. "There will be
a time when the good memories will take over all the bad ones. It's hard being the survivor."
"Damn straight," I said, smiling at her. Coming here had been a good thing. I was sad I'd waited so long. "So, you and your EMT looked pretty serious." I sat back on the swing.
Even in the dark I could see her face coloring. "I've never felt this way. I thought what Zach and I had was a relationship, but being with Bentley has shown me how wrong I was. I think you can understand the difference."
I nodded. Despite recent developments and secrets coming out, Dan and I had loved each other. I still was unsure how Brian worked into the whole scheme of things, but I knew my feelings for Dan weren't an illusion. I also knew his feelings for me had been the same. His brother may have given us the initial push, but I was confident we would have found our way there even without his push. I was hurt that Dan had betrayed my trust with Cindy, but I couldn't hate him for it.
"I'm glad," I finally said. "Zach seems good with it."
"He is. Poor Zach has his own demons to get through, but he would never begrudge me happiness. I'm sad he and Tracey never got a chance to show the world their feelings for each other. I made a lot of mistakes senior year; holding on to Zach was selfish."
"Tracey must have been hurting something fierce about betraying you. She loved you like a sister," I mused.
"She was. I didn't make it easier that night. I've wished for a do-over a hundred times. I'd tell her it was okay. She died knowing she hurt me. If I had a do-over, I'd make sure she knew I loved her and could never be mad at her. Of course if I had a do-over I'd make it so we never got in that damn vehicle that night. I was so insistent with our agenda. I was always the drill sergeant bullying all of you into following along." She sighed, struggling with her own ghosts.
"We all loved you for it. We may have bitched and moaned, but we liked having you in charge. You kept us together. If it wasn't for you, I think our group would have split off as soon as we hit high school. Despite everything I will always be grateful of those extra years you gave us," I said truthfully, watching as her eyes filled with tears again.