Wide Awake

by Shelly Crane

  I nodded. "Jackass."

  There was that hint of a smile. "Come on, Em. Don't let him ruin tonight. Let's get out of here."

  "OK. Number five."

  He helped me in and ran to his side. When he slid in, he took my hand in his and moved it to the gear knob as he shifted. Then he laid them on his lap and kept looking over at me, as if to see if I was really there.

  Useless Fact Number Eighteen

  It is illegal in the state of Kentucky to marry your wife's

  grandmother.

  When we pulled into the movie theater, I laughed so hard. "You are not taking me to see a movie in a prom dress."

  He grinned, pulling his jacket off, then his vest and tie.

  "Oh, yes, I am." He got out and came to my side. He opened the door and took my hand. After I was upright, he wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. "Let's go."

  "Are you serious?" I yelled and laughed even more when an older couple walking by gave me the stink-eye.

  "Dead. Serious." He gave me a look that said, I have a plan here, and towed me to the ticket counter.

  "Can I help you?" she asked, looking about as bored as I did in math class. Her braces were green — neon green — and her glasses had a Hello Kitty right in the center, between her eyes.

  "Two tickets, please," Mason told her and pulled his wallet out.

  "To what showing?"

  "Doesn't matter," he said, his eyes smoldering as he looked back at me. "We don't plan to watch it anyway."

  She cleared her throat as she pulled out two tickets and handed them to us. "Ooooookaay," she drawled and smiled condescendingly. "Enjoy your movie."

  I thought I heard her say, "Weirdos," as we walked away, but I didn't care. My heels were killing me as we stood in line to get candy. He asked me what I wanted and I went with the classic M&Ms. He got a box of Reese's Pieces and a big Dr. Pepper for us. When we entered the theater, it was completely empty, which was weird.

  He sat us in the back row and took a big sip of the drink before offering it to me. I giggled a little, taking a sip of his drink where his lips had just been. We nibbled our candy, sharing back and forth. The commercials started, the lights dimmed, and I shivered when I felt him turning me by my chin to face him, knowing what was coming. He took my lips before I could even think and I fumbled to lift the armrest between us. Once it was out of the way, I scooted over to practically be in his seat with him.

  He tasted like sweetness and chocolate and...Mason. He always had this smell and taste to him that I couldn't really pinpoint. Clean and manly.

  No one came in and I was so happy because I didn't want him to stop. He plundered my mouth with his and my body with his hands. His fingers inched their way into my hair and across my side and hip as he pulled me against him.

  But when the Bonanza theme song started, we both stopped and looked at each other. He took the tickets out of his pocket and looked at them. Under Theater 3 it read Bonanza Throwback Marathon. I could have kissed that ticket attendant.

  He rolled his eyes. "That girl-"

  "Did us a favor," I said sweetly and wrapped my arms around his neck again. "No one is coming in here for a Bonanza marathon. Nobody." I kissed his jaw and then his neck.

  He puffed out a breath and groaned a little. "I guess you're right. Thank you, weird ticket girl."

  I giggled and leaned my head back as he ravaged the spot under my ear. "Ah...Mason," I breathed.

  He chuckled against my skin. "You're killing me with that."

  He didn't wait for a response as he took my mouth again. I sank into him and gasped when I felt him lean down and his fingers encircle my ankle. His palm grazed my skin all the way up past my knee to my thigh, where he squeezed and gripped to pull me closer. I gasped into his mouth again.

  "This is as far as I'm going," he assured. "This OK?"

  "You don't have to stop there," I said, brazen and bold.

  He stopped for a split second as I opened a couple buttons and slid my hand into his shirt, examining the tattoos that I knew were there, but couldn't feel or see. "Yes, I do, Emma," he almost growled before kissing me fiercely again.

  My hand roamed inside his shirt as his roamed my leg. He pulled me to sit in his lap, my legs on either side of him. This was quickly becoming my favorite spot. This way, he was able to use both hands, pushing my dress up as his palms explored my legs up and down in an agonizing assault. But, true to his word, he went no further. He did torture me mercilessly though. When he leaned me back and kissed the center of my chest above the strapless top of my dress and then moved his way up my chest, nipping into my shoulder, I felt like sparkly igniters were about to go off in that theater. And then he was back to my mouth, pulling me against him, forcing more embarrassing noises from my throat. He ate those noises and sucked them into his mouth, making his own every time. It was a vicious cycle that I played right into willingly. I begged for time to stop, for the lights to not come up, for us to be able to stay there for hours and hours until our lips were blue and our hands ached from gripping each other too hard and too long.

  Our lips didn't disconnect until the lights came back up and the credits rolled. My lips actually hurt. I touched them and smiled. He helped me stand and took my face in his hands. He smiled, rubbing his thumbs across my cheeks, and leaned in to kiss me. "Thank you."

  "For what?" I whispered.

  His smile was kind of bashful. "For letting me be the one that you trust."

  "I trust you," I told him, "of course I do. The way you take care of your mom... I don't think there's a sweeter guy on the planet." He smiled in embarrassment. "If anything, after tonight, I trust you more."

  His eyebrows rose. "I drag you into a movie theater to make out," he rubbed his nose against mine, coyly, "and it takes everything in me to not let my hands keep going up those legs of yours...and you trust me more?"

  "Yes," I whispered, unable to play into his joke.

  He moved forward and took my bottom lip between his right before we heard, "Hey, I need to clean."

  We turned to find a pimply, red-headed boy with a broom that was bigger than he was. I giggled as we walked past him and went to Mason's car. Once inside, he asked for my list. I rolled my eyes, pulled it from the wrist bag I'd thrown between the seats, and gave it to him. He pulled a pen from the visor and wrote: #5 Make out at the movies. Then wrote : #6 Dance in a field.

  Then he crossed out number four and number five. He pointed to number six. "This is next. Now. You up for it?"

  I felt myself smile. "You wanna dance in a field with me?"

  "Of course I do," he said in a low voice. "And it's a perfectly normal thing to do, go dancing with your boyfriend."

  I felt a girly sigh go through me. "Really?" I asked in mock condescension to cover it up. "A field?"

  "Don't knock it 'til you try it," he said and smiled as he pulled out of the parking lot. "Especially since you were deprived of dancing in that dress tonight."

  "It's just a dress," I reasoned.

  "That...is not just a dress."

  I smiled as I turned to look out the window.

  We were just crossing the bridge when my phone rang. I fumbled to answer it, thinking it was Isabella. "Hello? Isabella, I'm-"

  "You are my constant source of torture," the low voice said. I felt my heart skid a little.

  "Andy?" I saw Mason's head turn toward me.

  "You have to know what you're doing to me, right? You just have to." He seemed to be talking to himself more than me. "You're all I can think about. You're all I have nightmares about. You're all that consumes my conscience. This ends tonight. I...can't do this anymore."

  "Andy-"

  "You weren't supposed to come back," he confessed and my heart officially stopped.

  "What did you say?"

  "You were dead!" he yelled. "You weren't supposed to come back!"

  I took a shaky breath. "Tell me what you mean by that."

  "I'm at the bridge, Emmie," he said softly.
"Come save me like I couldn't save you."

  My heart kicked up into fourth gear when I heard the line go dead. "Go to the bridge, Mason."

  "What happened? What did he say?" he asked, but he was already turning around. It made me want to kiss him for just trusting me and doing what I asked instead of asking questions first and trying to stop me.

  "He's gonna jump," I told him. "He... I think he had something to do with my accident."

  "The bridge..." he muttered. "That's where your accident was."

  I looked at him. "I didn't know that."

  He sighed and banged his fist on the steering wheel. "Emma. If he confesses that he ran you over and then left you in the road to die, he won't have to jump. 'Cause I'm gonna kill him."

  I didn't say anything to that. What could I say?

  I could see Andy's car on the road after we made the short drive to the bridge. The moon was full so the road was lit brightly with the eerie light. I could imagine how beautiful that full moon would have been had we gone to the field instead, but this wasn't beautiful.

  Mason turned off the main highway and I could see the bridge. This was the road that went out of town and lots of the kids lived out on this road.

  Mason took my hand as he stopped the car behind Andy's. We could see him pacing the highway. Mason looked at me and took a calming breath. His jaw worked as he ground his teeth. "I'm going to call the police, OK? And I'm coming with you."

  "I want you to." I gripped his fingers tighter. "I don't want to be alone with him."

  "You won't be. Ever," he growled and got out, almost running to my side of the car. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed 911. He gave them the address and then hung up. He took my hand again and led me past Andy's car onto the street. Andy was still wearing his suit, but had taken off his jacket and his tie was loose. His hair was a mess and he appeared to be talking to himself.

  When he heard us approach, he jerked around toward us. "You came." He seemed relieved.

  I spoke slowly. "I want to know what happened the night of my accident."

  His face scrunched. "Oh, God, Emma. Oh, God, I never wanted this."

  "What do you mean?" I asked, though Mason was standing in front of me, a statue of protection and anger. He was silently begging me to let him loose on Andy.

  "You did break up with me," he confessed, quietly, his eyes haunted. "I was such an ass. You caught me that night with...it doesn't matter." He grabbed at his hair. "You'd told me so many times that you were through with me, that you'd had enough of my crap, but I knew you'd take me back. You always did and no one ever knew what was going on. You were so good at pretending everything was fine. But that night at the party after you caught me, it was different. I knew you weren't coming back to me. I knew everything was going to be different after that. So I was coming to your house to beg you to forgive me, to take me back, to please not let it change us. That I was sorry and it would never happen again, and I meant it."

  Mason scoffed, but stayed silent. I knew Andy meant what he said; it was all over his face that he realized that whatever happened that night was a catalyst for us. But it didn't matter.

  He scowled as he said, "My phone rang and I reached down to answer it from where it'd fallen from the middle console. It was you. You were calling...for some reason, and when I leaned back up, it was too late to stop."

  I covered my mouth with my hands to keep the sob inside. No, no, no...I changed my mind. I didn't want to know. He continued anyway.

  "I got out and there was so much blood, Emmie. So much blood. I checked your pulse and didn't find one. All I could think about was my parents and football and what everyone would say-"

  "You son of a-" Mason growled and started toward him.

  "I know it was selfish, OK, but I thought you were dead!" Andy yelled and held his hand up as Mason reached him. Mason gripped him by the shirt collar and reared back to punch him. "Go ahead! Hit me! Go ahead!"

  Mason hesitated. Andy didn't even fight back. He lifted his jaw and wanted him to hit him.

  "Why did you leave me there?" I heard myself say.

  His face fell. "I thought you were dead."

  "But she wasn't!" Mason defended.

  "I'm not a paramedic! How was I supposed to know?"

  "You're the reason she was in a coma," Mason kept the growling going. "If she hadn't have laid in the road and had a brain bleed, she might have been OK. But now we'll never know if you stole all that time from her or not."

  "Whatever," Andy muttered and looked at me. "Why were you calling me, Emma? Why?" I stayed silent. "It's your fault this happened. Your fault that I've been eaten alive with guilt."

  "Shut your face," Mason commanded and shook him. A song broke out and my breath caught in my throat. I began to shake and watched as Andy pulled his cell phone from his pocket. That's why that song haunted me. He had been reaching for his phone before he ran me down...

  Mason looked back at me and I was frozen. That song...that song played through my brain like it was that night. I couldn't remember anything else and for once, I was glad. My body shook so much that my vision bounced. Mason squinted in indecision before pushing Andy back against the car. He pointed in his face and said, "We are not done yet."

  He made his way back to me swiftly and ever so slowly reached his hands toward my face. "Em, baby," he soothed. "Breathe for me, OK. Just in slow and out slow. Deep breath in."

  I obeyed and tried to get a grip on myself. I was due a freak out right? I hadn't had one in a while. He was still going with his pleas for me to calm down and relax, so I touched his cheek. "I'm OK."

  He made a noise low in his throat. "You are not OK."

  I could hear Andy mumbling behind him, but kept my eyes on Mason. I nodded as I told him, "I promise. I'm...all right."

  He sighed harshly. "Emma, I need you to do something for me."

  "Anything."

  He looked kinda haunted and gulped. "Keep me from killing this guy."

  "Mason-" I began to explain all the ways about how he was better than that and Andy wasn't worth it, but we heard a crash.

  We turned in time to see Andy's car as he pushed it off the side into the steep ditch, and watched helplessly as it crashed into the water. I looked at him with a million questions in my eyes as he looked back at me. He smiled, a ghost of a tear on his cheek. "One less thing for my parents to have to deal with," he said, as if that explained everything.

  Mason must've understood more than I did, because he said, "You don't have to do this."

  "Yeah," Andy sighed and looked at my face with a smile that was more sad than anything. "Yeah, I do." He began to walk backward to the railing and my heart jumped into my throat. "Emma, you'll never know how sorry I am that I hurt you. I loved you, I did, I was just an idiot and I let idiots tell me how to run my life."

  "Come on, man," Mason tried to stall and moved forward a few steps. "Let's just talk for a minute."

  "I'd give anything to go back and not answer that phone. Why did you call me, Emma?" he yelled. "Why? I'd give anything to go back to that night. Anything! I'd have passed you on the road, picked you up, took you to your house and we'd have made up. We'd have made out in my car like we did a million times before and we'd be together now!"

  "Andy, no," I denied.

  "That's why I needed to make it up to you. That's why I've been so obsessed about seeing you and trying to be together because I didn't know any other way to make it up to you! I needed you to forgive me, even if you didn't remember. I needed you to let me know that you were OK. But you saw right through me, right through my bullcrap. Just like you did that night at the party when you said we were done. I knew it was hopeless. And then tonight...this guy..." He slung his arm out toward Mason, who had inched forward a little more. I clung to his back and watched the train wreck happen in front of my eyes. "I knew we were over. You looked at him like...the old you used to look at me." He rubbed his head. "God, Emma, I wish you all the happiness that you deserv
e." He smiled a little and another tear slid down his cheek. "Which is a lot."

  He was only feet from the rail and Mason didn't wait any longer. He took off slowly after him in an easy manner, with his hands raised, nonthreatening. But it was too late...

  "The night of your accident..." Andy's back hit the railing and I saw his shaky breath, "Damn, Emmie, I died right along with you."

  And then he pushed off with his foot on the bottom rung, pushing himself over the railing, and let himself fall. I heard my plea, my useless cry for him to stop, but it was beyond too late.

  Mason ran to the railing and looked down for long seconds. I couldn't move. I was stuck to my spot in utter disbelief. My feet moved without my permission, this need to see for myself blazing through my veins.

  I stared down at the raging water below and watched for nothing and everything. There was no Andy, nothing to show the horrible thing he had just done. I felt beyond wretched. I didn't condone what Andy had done, in fact, it pissed me off so badly that I couldn't think straight that he'd do this to his family, but the fact that he was just gone and there was nothing left of him, nothing to show how sad and desperate he'd been...broke my heart for him.

  I stared at that water...

  I didn't even see Mason come to me, but I felt his hands on my face and jolted aware. The police lights whirred behind his head and I wondered how long I'd been like that.

  "It's over, Em." Mason pulled me to him and let me bury my face in his warm neck. "It's over."

  "Mason," I whispered and pulled away a little. He looked worried, like I was about to run. I shook my head. "I'm not going anywhere," I reminded him, just like I told him before. "I just want you to take me home."

  "Miss," a deep, brusque voice said. "You can't go home until we get a statement."

  I sighed as Mason groaned in frustration and turned to the policeman. We both told them everything, from seeing Andy at the school, to the phone call, to coming there, Mason going off on him, and everything Andy said. Everything. Then how he jumped.

  At some point, Mason must have called my mom, because she and Rhett showed up a few minutes later, and when they got there, she pushed the policeman aside and hugged me to her so hard. She pulled Mason, who hadn't left my side, into the hug, too. "Thank you for calling, Mason."