Scar

by A. M. Brooks

  “Oh sleeping beauty is awake.” Ethan’s voice grows louder as he comes closer to the bed.

  “About time.” Elijah’s voice comes from the shadow in the back corner.

  “Don’t listen to him, he’s crabby because he slept in the recliner,” Ethan laughs.

  “Because you took the couch again, ass hat.” Elijah shoves Ethan’s shoulder.

  I smile then wince when sharp pain sprints along my jaw. My hand comes up, my fingers meet with the squishy swollen tissue.

  “It looks as bad as it feels,” Elijah tells me. His face is serious, and I realize it must be pretty bad.

  “Do you remember what happened?” Ethan asks, shifting his eyes back and forth between me and Elijah. I nod my head as the memories play over in my head in little foggy clips.

  “You’re fucking lucky,” Elijah says, shaking his head. I remember they tried to stop me, but there was no way I wasn’t going after her. Nora.

  “Shit,” I say, sitting up straighter. “The news report. I still have to go apologize.” I try swinging my leg over the bed and realize again how weighted down it seems. It takes all my strength just to bring it to the edge.

  “Ahh,” Ethan says. “Probably not a good idea right now, Cuz.” The twins exchange a look between themselves in their own private communication. I’ve always hated it when they do that.

  “Why?” I ask. I’m starting to feel agitated, preparing myself for the worst, hoping nothing had happened to Nora. Even if the news story was wrong and her dad really did steal the money, I was going after her. I’d check myself out of the hospital and drive today to Seattle.

  “Well,” Ethan says, looking back at me. “She was here.”

  “She was here, as in she was in Araminta?”

  “No, as in she was at the hospital,” Elijah finishes. “To see you.”

  “She knows about the accident?” I deadpan, watching both of them closely. “Everyone knows about the accident, don’t they?” It’s not a question. I can tell by their faces I was right.

  “To be fair, she heard it from Aunt Jodi before the news channel broke the story,” Ethan states quietly.

  “What are they saying about it?” I ask. That scholarship flashing in the back of my mind.

  “Your dad is working on it,” Elijah responds, his eyes watching me closely. My stomach feels sick thinking of how he’s handling it. Of what I’ll have to do for him to make up for it.

  “Where is she?” I ask, suddenly feeling panic creep into my chest, “I have to talk to her.”

  “She left already,” Ethan answers, “Back to Seattle. She wanted to make sure you were okay before leaving for good.”

  “What are you talking about? Her dad is innocent, why wouldn’t they move back?”

  “He is, but she wants to stay with her aunt.” Ethan takes a deep breath before blowing it out. “She doesn’t want us to contact her. Ever.”

  “What?” I ask, shaking my head to be sure I’m not imagining this whole conversation. It doesn’t make sense. We fuck up and make mistakes, but we always get back to each other. Why would she give up all the sudden? “Is this because of the whole prom thing?” I question, even though a shallow pit in my stomach is telling me it is.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s everything but, yeah you fucking her friend probably didn’t help,” Elijah says, blowing out a breath.

  Even now, I shake my head, trying to wrap my mind around what I did after prom. The conversation from the hospital echoes in my brain daily. It was an asshole thing to do, but I had my reasons to push her away. Those reasons were a moot point now, but at the time I hadn’t known that. I also should have known that trying to push Nora away never went how I thought it would. I always circled back around to her like clockwork. She was magnetic and I was attracted to her force.

  You would think after the accident, I stopped using right away and got my life together and you would be wrong. It was still two more weeks after being out of the hospital I binged and complained about the rehab, losing the scholarship, going to NA meetings, and losing my license before the final nail in the coffin of my previous relationship with Nora sent me flying toward recovery. It was graduation day. I had tried numerous times to contact her by phone and on social media. She never responded and in my drug haze, I figured it was because she didn’t log on to her accounts. I even attempted to drive again to Seattle to confront her before being stopped by the guys. Twenty minutes before the graduation ceremony, my phone dinged with an alert on Instagram, NoraSutton01 posted a new picture. My fingers fumbled with the passcode to unlock my screen so I could see it. The caption read People who make my heart whole with a bunch of smiling emojis. The picture was a selfie of her and that racer guy Trent Nichols. After graduation, I got drunk then decided I needed to make a change if I was ever going to stand a chance to get the only girl I had ever loved back.

  “And in closing, ladies and gentlemen, remember the Lord is with you when you face tough times, face temptation, or just when you need a friend. John 13:7 Jesus replied, ‘You don’t understand now what I am doing but someday you will.’” I close my eyes as the echoes of everyone’s “Amen” sound around me. It’s an internal struggle I have after every meeting, trying not to laugh out loud. I’m not an atheist, but I have a hard time accepting that God exists and that we’re all just hanging out here waiting to die and join him again. Instead, I channel my thoughts and need across the states to the girl with the knowing eyes who bared her heart to me despite the tough exterior she showed to everyone else.

  I crutch my way out of the building as fast as I can before anyone gets a chance to talk to me or stop me from leaving. Once I’m able to breathe in the fresh air, the stuffy feeling from the basement subsides. I squint my eyes against the sun looking for the truck and sure enough, Ethan is parked in the same space as before waiting, popping a bag of Skittles in his mouth.

  “Well,” he says as I haul myself into his cab, “Do you feel purged of sin and your soul cleansed of depravity?”

  “Fuck you,” I joke, hitting his shoulder. Unable to help myself, I check my phone again for updates from Nora’s accounts. Ethan isn’t oblivious to what I’m doing. I have been semi-stalking her since she left, checking for any updates or any new pictures of her I could find. I constantly browse her old ones just to see her face. To make sure she was real. It is borderline obsessive, but I’m past caring. It didn’t matter what anyone said or thought, I was just thankful she hadn’t blocked me from any of the sites.

  “She still planning to be home next week, right?” I ask him again, my thumb still scrolling through her posts.

  “As far as I know, yes,” he replies. His jaw tenses and I know he’s just as anxious as I am. Nora banned us all from her when she left, and I know it ate him up inside considering he was the one who “found her” as he puts it. He might have been friends with her first, but she consumes my every thought. Our only link to her the past few months is through Ethan’s aunt Jodi who was still dating Nora’s father. Both of whom were not my biggest fans at the moment.

  “Still want to stop at the store quick?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I need a new pack of pens before Monday,” I reply. My classes started this past week at the community college while the twins are starting their senior year of high school. I could have left and picked a new college, but I was determined to stay in Araminta until I could fix this thing with Nora.

  With summer ending, the store is even more packed than usual on a Friday night. We parked as close as we can given my need to crutch inside. By the time we have what we need, a light sheen of sweat was covering my forehead.

  “When do you lose the cast?” Ethan says around a mouthful of cheddar chips.

  “Tomorrow, actually,” I tell him. The appointment is scheduled bright and early so I can still start my first day of class on time. I’m looking forward to the relief from the itch more than anything. All summer in a casted leg sucked. I miss surfing and being able to walk without padded
metal digging into my arms.

  “Coach still going to work with you part-time for your physical therapy?”

  I nod, remembering how much groveling I did in order to get that to happen. PT at the gym in town was also scheduled, but I knew they couldn’t get me back into the shape I needed to be.

  “Well, that’s nice of him.”

  I nod again because it was, and I know I didn’t deserve it. Coach poured his heart and soul into me during high school and I had no chance of playing pro ball now. I leaned my head back against the headrest as the same exhaustion swept over me that I had been experiencing since being sober. I know it’s my body’s way of recuperating and I can’t deny that I wish I had something to take the edge off. Instead, I bring Nora’s face front and center in my thoughts. I got clean for her, but I needed to stay clean for myself.

  “I need to get out of here. I need to get to Seattle and explain everything.” I sat up, pulling the oxygen from my nose and unclipping the monitor from my finger. Machines started to buzz throughout the room, but I didn’t care. Finding Nora was all that mattered. Her dad was innocent, so we could go back to how things had been.

  “D - I love you, man, but you need to get back in that bed. Chasing after her right now is not going to do any good.” Ethan reached for my shoulder, guiding me to lie back against the pillows again.

  I was pissed off. I jerk my arm away, “Da fuck, man. I thought you were on my side. I need to go after her.”

  “No, man, you need to get sober and stay sober before she will even talk to you,” Elijah said.

  “Seriously, Darr…she needs some time. You need to give that to her and work on yourself.”

  They both had been right. I had fought it the whole time I recovered at the hospital. Fought it once I was out and still fighting. Sixty-eight days sober and counting.