Collision Course(70)
Author: S.C. Stephens

A sob rose in me, as my thoughts drifted back to my love…Lillian. Sawyer resumed her squatting position in front of me, her hands rubbing my wet, shaking legs. She looked over my face with concerned eyes. "Lucas?"

The sob broke free as a wave of guilt and grief washed over me. I may have been able to halt the desire to end my life, and even that was still sort of tittering back and forth, but the desire to live wasn’t exactly bringing me sunshiny feelings. No, I wasn’t being overwhelmed by some sudden need to seize the day and make the most of each moment. I was still crushed – devastated and still feeling alone. I still hated myself…and what I’d done.

"I killed them, Sawyer…all of them."

Tears fell from my eyes and she cupped my cheeks. "No…it was an accident, Luc. Let it go, baby." She flushed a bit after she said that, and I smiled for a micro-second before grief swept over me, crushing me.

I knew if I was going to survive this day…I’d need help. I scooted forward a bit and reached into my back pocket. Finding my wallet, I pulled it out and gave it to my mom. She took it with an eager expression, eager to help me in any way possible. She raised an eyebrow and in-between tears I told her to call Beth. She looked at Sawyer, confused, and Sawyer, her mind in line with mine again, thankfully explained for me.

"His counselor…Mrs. Ryans. Her card must be in there somewhere."

My mom nodded and immediately pulled out her cell phone while sheriff watched the road, ever cognizant of the potential danger of so many cars pulled alongside the highway, right at a sharp corner. I heard my mom’s animated voice, talking rapidly and emotionally to someone on the other end of the phone. I tuned it out and focused on Sawyer, focused on my peace. I tried to make the comfort I used to get from her return to me. It was harder to do now; I had much more painful memories attached to her than before. But watching those pale eyes stare back at me unblinkingly, watching the beautiful shape of her lips, the arch of her brow, the spot where I knew my hidden dimple lay buried, eventually, I found a small level of comfort. Knowing that that was probably all I’d get today, I soaked it in.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice so hoarse it was nearly comical.

She didn’t laugh though. Instead, tears leaked from her eyes. "You’re welcome…don’t ever try that again."

A small smile crept into my lips and I nodded. Exhaustion overtook me and I lowered my head to hers. She ran her fingers back through my hair in a soothing, repetitious pattern, and we waited. Waited for me to feel well enough to live.

A numbness settled into me and I was vaguely aware of voices talking about me in the background. I stared without really seeing, my head a blank slate for once. I became aware of being removed from the car and shifted into the passenger’s seat, although I had no idea who’d actually moved me over. Then the car restarted and I was leaving this cursed place. I was going home.

A hand came over to grasp mine and I clenched it, not knowing whose is was. A soft, comforting voice filled the car and I only caught the soothing, feminine tone, not the actual words. Within moments, we were pulling back into my driveway, where a strange car was already waiting for us, parked along the street. My mom’s wagon pulled up next to us and I looked over, registering her haggard face staring at me through the window. She stepped out of her car and opened my door, helping me out.

I looked at her blankly as she grabbed my hand and helped me stand. She was drier than me, but looked just as worn, her eyes red and her face sickly pale. The sheriff came up to help her, having driven himself to our house, and the two of them clumsily got me inside. They walked me to the couch and sat me on it. I sort of felt like a rag-doll, an empty shell that people could move around and dress up to look human, but I wasn’t really sure if that’s what I was anymore.

I heard Sawyer’s voice enter the house and I instinctually turned to look for her. She was walking through the door with Mrs. Ryans…Beth. She was animatedly telling her something, Beth nodding and eyeing me with a furrowed brow. In my numb haze, I couldn’t make out the words, but I could picture them well enough. Sawyer was replaying the events that had happened on the highway. I didn’t care. I didn’t care what Sawyer said to her. I had no secrets anymore.

Mom anxiously went up to Beth, grabbing her hands and making a pleading noise. I couldn’t tell what she was saying either, but I figured she was begging the professional to save her damaged son. If I could have felt any emotions at the moment, I’d probably feel really guilty about that.

Beth nodded and tried to remove her hands from Mom’s grasp, but mom was holding her tight, like she was her lifeline or something. Eventually the sheriff had to walk over and remove her, pulling her into the kitchen. Sawyer eyed me on the couch and looked torn as to whether or not she should join me. I watched her curiously, not knowing what I wanted, since I wasn’t letting anything fully enter my consciousness. Beth brought a hand to her shoulder and told her something. Sawyer nodded at her and then turned to wait in the kitchen, giving me one final supportive glance before she left.

Beth came over and sat in a chair next to the couch. She didn’t say anything, just smiled at me. I stupidly smiled back, just like that doll again, mimicking life, but not really meaning it. She inhaled a big breath and let it out slowly. I did the same. "Lucas…" she said softly. I nodded and waited. "How are you?"

I looked down, numbness still the overriding feeling in my body. Knowing nothing would hurt me right now, I looked back up at her and spoke more honestly than I usually ever did. "I tried to kill myself today."

She gave me a sympathetic smile and nodded. The pride on her face that I’d admitted something extremely painful, freely, was evident. "I know, Lucas," she whispered. "I’m so glad you called for me."

I exhaled and it felt like the first true exhale I’d taken in months. I felt pieces of myself reenergizing with that exhale. Rebooting, like I’d turned myself off and the computer within me was resetting itself. I hoped whatever bug was in my system cleared itself out with this restart.

For the rest of the morning, I talked. Beth occasionally asked me questions, but mainly it was just me talking. I told her everything. I held nothing back, no bit of darkness, no edge of insanity, no self hatred – nothing. As my emotions came back to life…it hurt, and I had several panic attacks that Beth calmly helped me to breathe through. Then I’d break into crying spells and she’d rub my arm and tell me to keep going. Eventually though, I told her everything I’d bottled up since the accident.

At some point, I lied down on the couch and threw my arm over my eyes. I’d occasionally hear people talking quietly in the kitchen, or objects moving around, and I knew every person in there could hear what I was saying. I still didn’t stop though. I spoke of the party we’d gone to that night. I spoke of Darren and Sammy, our friendship and their eternal bond to each other. I spoke of the accident and my horror regarding it. And I spoke of Lillian.

She was the most painful to talk about, but I did. I spoke of every aspect of our relationship. How intimate we’d been in life, but how we’d never taken that last leap into admitting our love out loud, and how we’d never physically shared that love with each other. I admitted even more intimate details of how we’d nearly done both of those things in my dreams. I went into an embarrassing amount of detail over how close we’d gotten to almost consummating our relationship. I’m sure I blushed a few times, but Beth only nodded and encouraged me to continue, and I’d needed to talk about it with someone…alive.

Hours later, when my words ran dry, I remained on the couch while Beth went to talk to my mom for a moment. I nodded at her, too exhausted to speak anymore, although I did manage a thank you before she left the room. I was exhausted, drained from an overly emotional couple of days. Or had it only been one day since the dance? It felt like years.

I felt rubbed raw, inside and outside, but a small smile was on my face as I stared up at the ceiling. I still felt a horrible sadness and an aching pain, that didn’t magically go away or anything, but I did feel lighter. And for the first time in a long time, maybe ever since the crash, I felt something stirring in me that almost resembled…hope.

Sawyer came out and sat on the edge of the couch while the adults talked about me in the kitchen. I grabbed her hand, and blinkingly gazed up at her. I could feel the need for sleep filling me and she seemed to see that in me too. She leaned down and brushed some hair off my forehead before she kissed it. Her black hair swept over my chest, the familiar, comforting scent of lemons washing over me as she gave me a swift hug.

Leaning down, she whispered in my ear, "Get some sleep, Lucas. I love you."

I felt a love-filled ache building in my chest, and I slung my arms around her, pulling her tight to me. "Stay with me," I barely squeaked out, my throat raw from talking and tears. She nodded, and brought her legs up onto the couch, her arms wrapping around me, her body quickly following. Despite our still slightly damp clothes, she was cocooning me in her warmth and in her love. I closed my eyes, feeling slumber rapidly approaching.

Before I completely gave into it, I twisted to bury myself even more into her sheltering embrace, my head falling into the crook of her neck. Then I kissed the warm skin there and whispered, "I love you too," before passing out from exhaustion.

I had no dreams that day and was relieved for it.

Chapter 22

How Different the World Can Look

Sawyer didn’t leave my side much during break. Either I was at her house, in her near-dorm downstairs, or she was hanging with me at mine. It had taken a bit of effort to get that kind of clearance for her; her parents had been furious when they’d woken up the morning of my "attempt" and discovered her gone. It had taken my mother going over there (with Sheriff Whitney no less) to convince them that Sawyer had saved my life, and shouldn’t be punished for it. Of course, none of us mentioned that I’d spent the previous night in bed with her. Leniency only went so far, after all.

After that revelation, her parents were far more encouraging of our relationship. They engaged me more when I came over and I tried to be engaging in return. Sometimes it felt forced, like when we were all seated at dinner and they started discussing what Sawyer had done for me. I could tell they were proud of her, and while being respectful to me, avoiding any of the actual reasons I’d even tried the attempt, an icy ball knotted my stomach. Only Sawyer’s hand on my skin made it melt.

The free time we spent alone together, was usually spent talking. Once she and Beth had finally gotten me to open up, I couldn’t seem to shut up. I went over every aspect of the crash with Sawyer, her constantly assuring me that it had only been a horrid accident that could have happened to anyone. I also went over every dream with her – every nightmare and every fantasy. I’d wanted to skip over the ones with Lil, but with a warm hand on my back, Sawyer had encouraged me to not leave her out, since she’d been so vastly important to me. So I didn’t. I went over every intimacy and every desire I’d ever had. Sawyer’s cheeks flushed and she studied her hands…but she listened.

Surprisingly it helped. I’m not sure why. I don’t know why the simple act of sharing your burden with someone else makes it lighter, but I certainly felt that way. I completely lost the desire I’d had to drive out to that bend…or even see it again, really. That’s not to say that everything in my life was instantly perfect, but I no longer felt the need to "fix the mistake" as I’d so naively put it.