“Do you feel like sharing today?” Dr. Joel asks me. I make eye contact with him across the circle. “You don’t have to, Jake, but I believe it’s helpful.”
I look around at the others, who are all nodding. I’ve heard their stories twice a week for the last two weeks. I know what they struggle with, why they do that, how life is to them. They know my name and that I play football.
I inhale and close my eyes. I picture Haley sitting here beside me, rubbing my back like she did that day on the field. Not expecting anything or judging me, just supporting me and listening.
“I like to drink,” I start, and then I open my eyes to look at the others. “It got really bad, I guess, after my brother, Jamie, had a car accident. I’m sure you read about it. It was in the news for weeks.”
“Why don’t you tell us a little anyway?”
I nod slowly. “I was drunk, and my brother came to get me. I distracted him, the car flipped, and was stuck under the dashboard. I was too drunk; I couldn’t really figure out what to do, I was so drunk, and eventually someone drove by and called 911. He will never walk again now, and I walked away with a concussion.”
There are silent nods around the room, and I exhale, feeling my insides scrunch up into a tangled mess. “After that, I started drinking more to feel better. It was the only time I wasn’t worried about him or being reminded of what I did. Then a few turned into a few more, which turned into all the time, and now I’m here.”
“What else happened, besides your brother, because of your drinking?” this kid Kyle asks me. Kyle is fourteen, and he started smoking pot when he was nine and his parents gave it to him; last year he got arrested for selling meth. Now he’s here, trying to get his head on straight with an infusion of normal.
“I lost my girl, my best friend, my reputation is shot. I would’ve been toasted if not for my coach.”
Megan, a girl who likes to have lots of sex and tell lies, says, “You’re lucky, then; it could be worse. You have someone.”
“You had a problem, and instead of dealing with it, you escaped. That’s sort of why we are all here,” Luke says. “There was no feeling to compare to the rush of stealing a car and driving away from my life.”
Dr. Joel leans forward. “The problem with using alcohol, or anything else, as an escape from reality is that when it wears off, reality is still there.”
He was damn right about that. It didn’t change anything, except for things being fun at the party or easier to ignore at home. Jamie was still in a wheelchair. I was still responsible, and at the end of the day, that’s how all this started.
“I think you feel guilty,” Rosa says. A lump forms in my throat. She’s a little rough around the edges, but today she looks more put together than I’d ever seen her. “I mean, that’s how I felt. With depression, you want to do something, but you can’t. With the bipolar, I’d do it and not think sometimes, and then, after, there would be big messes for my family to clean up, and whether I meant to or not, I always felt guilty.”
Everyone else around the room nods.
“I guess I do,” I say. “Jamie is this living reminder that I screwed up. Every day, I see him, and watch him, and he’ll never walk again because of what I did.”
“Does he blame you?” Kyle asks.
I shrug. “How would he not blame me?”
“Have you asked him?” this girl Caitlin—a reformed cutter—asks. “I mean, whether you’re at fault or not, maybe he doesn’t feel negativity toward you.”
Luke nods. “If that’s the case, then all the negativity is self-inflicted because of your guilt, right Doc?”
Dr. Joel nods, and I straighten in my chair. I blame my dad for not being present, but I haven’t been present, either. We all leave things unsaid.
“You don’t like that idea?” Dr. Joel says.
“No.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Because I fucked up. I kept making bad choices and I lost the people I care the most about. And to think I did that to myself…” I pause. What does it make me feel? “It makes me feel a lot of things, but mostly it makes me feel pissed off that I messed up.”
“Getting angry is part of the process, bro,” Kyle says. “When you’re mad, you take action.”
Dr. Joel agrees. “Actions are important. What you need is an action plan—and I think the most important step in recovery and moving on, no matter the situation, is sharing what’s going on and asking for forgiveness.”
“That is so hard, though,” Hannah says. “Not everyone will forgive you.”
“I don’t always think it’s about their forgiveness, though,” Rosita says to Hannah. “Sometimes it’s about you letting go so you can forgive yourself.”
“If you’re ready for it,” Dr. Joel says, and he looks at me. “That’s the key.”
We talk more about Caitlin until time is up. At the end, they pray; I don’t really do that Jesus stuff, but it does make me feel better to be here. Like I’m not the only one who can’t handle life’s shit sometimes. It reminds me that the world is full of bad choices, but also good ones. Even when you’ve royally screwed yourself, you can always fight to find your way back out.
Jamie is in the living room watching Team America when I get home. I take a seat next to him, and my heart is racing. My palms are sweaty. That familiar pressure at my chest is building, but I won’t give in to it. It won’t stop me. I let fear keep me from telling Howell about my feelings for his sister, and I can’t do that again.
We’ve never talked about the accident in all these months. I don’t want to bring it up now, but I don’t want to carry this with me anymore. I need to tell someone—and there’s a reason I haven’t. I need to tell him. I wring my hands, trying to get in the right mental state to say something.
We’re in that scene right before the marionettes start going at it when he pauses the TV. “What’s wrong?”
“What?”
He nods toward my hands. “That. You only do that when you’re really upset.”
“I do?”
He nods. “It happened when Mom was gone. You don’t remember?” I shake my head. I had no idea I did that. “Is it Haley?”
“I’m sorry,” I say to him. Jamie looks confused, and I try to keep my voice steady and my bearings about me. “I know my drinking has caused a lot of trouble, especially with the accident.” My brother’s eyes soften, but I still don’t want to look at him. “I mean, I’m the reason we wrecked and why you’re in that chair. You lost everything because of me, and I can never ever tell you how sorry I am or make any of it up to you. But I hope you forgive me one day.”
He looks away from me, stares off into the distance; with the TV paused, the world seems to stand still. “Thank you for saying that.”
I nod. “I think about it all the time.”
“Me, too,” he says.
“I know you’re angry at me.”
He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I’m not angry at you.”
I shake my head. “You should be. I was drunk and I wanted to go back and I jerked the steering wheel.”
“That’s not why we wrecked, Jake. It was an accident. I swerved to miss another car that was in our lane, and our car ran off the road.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“You were drunk. You can’t expect to remember it right.”
I’m still shaking my head, though, remembering what it was like there. “If I had called 911 faster, we could’ve gotten you out sooner. I froze. I didn’t know what to do.”
“I know.”
“If I hadn’t been drunk, you wouldn’t have had to come get me.”
“You were celebrating a victory. We’ve all done it.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m the reason you were in the car on the road, and I’m the reason you’re here.”
Jamie reaches out and touches my forearm. “I don’t blame you. I never have blamed you. I blame the drunk dude driving the other ca
r. I blame myself. I blame God. And yeah, maybe I did at first blame you. But I’ve learned that this was beyond both of us.” He pauses. “I was mad, I am mad still sometimes when I think about what I had. For a few months right after it happened, I felt the unfairness of it all. I had plans. I was angry at everyone and everything. But now, some of that is gone. Each day is different.”
“I was angry, too.”
“I know. We’re all angry, but I’m not angry anymore. You know what I think about when I think about the accident?” He looks at me. “If I hadn’t come for you, maybe you’d be dead right now. If you weren’t with me, wandering around on the road all bloody, maybe no one would’ve found us and I would’ve died. But we’re both here, we’re both alive.”
We’re both alive.
“And besides, it hasn’t ruined my life completely. I can’t play ball or walk tall, but I’ve still got game.”
“You’ve got game?”
“Raymond started taking me to this wheelchair basketball group in Haymont, and I play there sometimes. It’s pretty fun. I met a cute girl.”
“In a wheelchair?”
“No, on two legs.” He laughs. “I’m going to ask her out, I think.”
“Can you…” I wiggle my eyes.
He flips me off. “Probably better than you can.”
We laugh together, nothing negative between us. For the first time in months, it feels like I’m whole.
Later, I knock on the familiar door, and Howell answers it. His smile fades when he sees me there. Aside from football, because Coach gave us a good ole talking to about working together, we haven’t really been on speaking terms. I get it. I’m giving him space for now.
“What do you need?” he asks me.
“Nothing. I wanted to come talk to you,” I say. Howell steps out onto the porch and closes the door behind him. As it shuts, I hear Haley laughing, and it sparks something inside me. Howell crosses his arms.
“I came to tell you that I’m sorry. I was wrong in how I handled everything—I should’ve respected you enough to be honest.” I inhale, and my eyes flick to the window, where I see her sitting on the couch. I don’t think she sees me, but even a glimpse of her makes my heart race. “You were right when you said I don’t deserve your sister. I don’t. I’m the least worthy person—but I’m working on it. I am in love with her, Chris. I know you’re mad about it, that I betrayed you, and I’m sorry. You’ve always been the most important person to me, but now it’s not just you. And I’m going to prove to you that I can be everything she needs.”
Chapter Thirty
Haley
The Belles have kept me busy preparing for Homecoming. The game is Friday, along with the Homecoming parade and court, and the dance is Saturday. Plus, Sunday is an alumni lunch in the town square. It’s one of the best/worst weekends in Culler. So besides school, my life is all Southern Belles. Even at school we get excused from History class to work on campus Homecoming activities. I haven’t been to the rehab center since my accident, and I miss it. I miss Gracie Ann, Ms. Nichols, and the other kids. Other than a few texts with Jake, he’s pretty much avoided the house. I miss him most of all. But today is about Abby.
She came over once, the next day after I texted her, with a goodie basket for me. It was nice, and she didn’t stay long, but it was a gesture. I’ve seen her at Belles meetings all week, but it’s been so busy I haven’t been able to stop her. Until today.
“Mom, I’m home!” she calls, and she freezes when she sees me standing inside her house.
“Greetings, Elite,” I say.
I’m dressed in a Starship Elite uniform as one of the Elite Cadets. I’ve redone her living room to look like the inside of the starship, which I found online. It’s really some tarps that are made to look like the inside of the ship looking out, but when you hang them up, it’s actually pretty cool.
“What is all this?” she asks me.
“It’s Wednesday, so there’s a new episode tonight. I thought you might want a break to watch it. With me.”
She looks around the room. I turned her TV into the window that shows space. Her couch is covered in red blankets to look like the captain’s seats on the bridge. I’ve even set up a bunch of foods based on the show on the coffee table.
“You did all this?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Well, Mom helped me with the food because I wanted it to actually taste good.”
She laughs at that, and I clear my throat. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I should’ve been honest with you. It was a very Anu thing to do. I should’ve told you like she should’ve told Cruise, and we probably could’ve worked it out. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough to be honest.”
Her eyes light up. “You watched the show?”
“I did. I know how much you love it, and I have to admit I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would.”
“I can’t believe you watched it,” she says. Her face still looks like it’s in shock.
“I don’t expect this to make it all better.”
“It’s a start,” she says. Abby walks past me, but she backtracks and tosses her arms around me. When she pulls away from the hug, she adds with a sigh, “I’m sorry, too. I never paid attention to you and Jake, but in hindsight, there were a lot of signs that you had liked him. I never wanted to see it. I was so wrapped up in my own feelings, I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you to break through.”
“You’re my best friend, Abs. I don’t want to be without you.”
“God, same. I have so much to tell you when this is over. Are you going to stay to watch with me?”
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
“Me, too! But I still have to live tweet. My followers expect it.”
I nod. “No problem.”
“I’m going to fangirl a little bit now.”
“But of course,” I say, and she lets out this squeal as she starts going around the room, pointing out all the little details from the show that I added to make it more real.
After the show is over, she and I are sitting crossed-legged on her couch, catching up with each other about life outside of the Belles. I tell her I applied for this art program, and she’s super supportive of it. She tells me about her Nana and how she’s kinda sick, and about how her fandom twitter for Starship Elite is taking off.
“So, tell me about Jake.”
I shrug. “Jake and I haven’t talked in weeks, so I don’t know anything about Jake.”
“That’s a shame. Y’all are actually kinda cute together.”
“Stop it.”
Abby smiles. “I’m serious. Some of those pictures I saw, you look really happy.”
“I was,” I say.
“Who took those, anyway?”
I groan. “That would be Shane.”
Her jaw drops. “Shut up.”
“Yeah, he was jealous and stirring up revenge drama. The whole thing was ridiculous.”
“Do Chris or Jake know?”
I shake my head. “No, and you aren’t going to tell them. The game is around the corner, and we don’t need any more drama. Shane isn’t worth it.”
“You should get him back.”
“I don’t really want to stoop to his level,” I say.
Abby agrees quietly, but I can tell she is a little disappointed.
“I should go home,” I say. “Busy day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, same,” she says. “For the record, I approve entirely of you and Jake. Don’t let me stand in the way. You’re my best friend, Hals, and I want you to be happy, but I do want to be included in it.”
I wrap her up in a hug. “I feel the same way.”
It’s 9 p.m. before I get home from Homecoming stuff on Thursday. The Belles finally finished our float for tomorrow, along with a hundred other things. Chris ordered pizza, and the remaining half is sitting on the table when I get in. I’m a little tired, and I haven’t eaten since lunch at school today, so I’m all sorts of hangry. I sit next to the pizza and eat it directl
y from the box, just like a lady would.
It’s been so busy I haven’t had time to think about not hearing from the art program, which isn’t a bad thing because thinking about it takes my mind to Jake. I wouldn’t have applied if not for him. Jake. What’s been going on with him? I miss him more than I thought I could.
I set my phone facedown on the table and sigh.
“Hello, stranger,” my brother says, coming to sit down next to me.
“So tired,” I say.
He nods slowly. “Big game tomorrow. Coach has been killing us.”
“You’ll win.”
“I hope we do,” he says.
He looks at me a little too long while I eat, so I ask, “What?”
“Tell me about Jake.”
I swallow my pizza too fast and choke a little. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, tell me what happened. All this stuff between y’all, how did it start?”
“There is no stuff between us.”
“Haley.”
“Chris.”
He leans forward and taps the table with his fingers. “You liked him first, or did he make the move?”
I start to get up from the table. “I’m not talking about all of this with you.”
“He’s different,” he says, and I freeze. I don’t want to think about Jake, but I want to know. “He’s calmer. More at peace. More like he was before the accident. He’s laughing and trying, and I’ve never seen him so passionate.”
I sit back down.
“I know you haven’t been around much with Homecoming, but we all see it.”
We’re both quiet for a moment, and my heart does little leaps in the silence.
“After your accident, he came to the door and apologized to me for how it went down with you two. I don’t know much about how it happened. Just tell me the story. I want to know.”
I sigh and look at him. “I’ve had a crush on Jake since we were twelve years old. I never imagined I would fall in love with him.”
Chris nods. “You’re in love with Jake?”
I pause for a minute. Isn’t that what all this is? I didn’t want to lose him. I wanted to protect what we had, so I lied to keep a precious thing. Since he’s been gone, I always think about him first, and I would do anything for him. “Yeah, I am.”
The Crush Collision Page 19