by D. R. Graham
“Where do you watch TV?”
“I don’t,” I said as I leaned on the bathroom doorframe.
“Never?”
“I like reading better.”
“What about movies?”
“I watch them on my laptop.”
“Right.” He looked around some more.
“Where are we going for dinner tomorrow? Is it romantic?”
“It’s a surprise. You should wear a skirt or a dress, though.” He smiled when he noticed the journal he gave me on my bedside table. “You use your journal?”
“Yeah, every night. I love it.”
He lunged forward, snatching it off the table with a mischievous grinned. “What do you write about?”
“Don’t.” I tried to grab it from him, but he held it over his head so I couldn’t reach it. I tickled his ribs and then pushed him onto the bed. “Give it back or I’m going to kick you out.”
He gave it back immediately without a struggle. “I don’t want to get kicked out.”
“Thank you.” I slid the book in my desk drawer, then turned and knelt onto my bed beside him. “I don’t know how far this is going to go, but —”
“I’m happy with whatever you’re ready for.”
I leaned in to kiss along his neck and made my way up towards his mouth. He pulled my body until I was lying on top of him. One of his hands moved along my thigh and up over my hip to my waist. His other hand cradled my neck. I closed my eyes, and as Steve’s hands ran across my body, my imagination wandered. I pretended I was making out with Trevor. I couldn’t help it—or maybe I could help it, and I just didn’t want to. I kissed him back and touched him as if he were Trevor, and because it was something I’d been burning to do for a while, it was hot.
Steve rolled me over onto my back and leaned up on his elbow. A reminder that he was Steve not Trevor. He smiled and ran his finger along the side of my face and down my throat towards my collarbone. I could tell he wanted to draw his hand farther down to my chest, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed it on my waist and leaned in to kiss me again. Interestingly, his self-control had an unexpected effect on me. The more he avoided touching me, the more I wanted him to. I didn’t even have to pretend he was Trevor anymore.
I sat up, pulled my sweater over my head, and revealed the tight tank top I had on underneath. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in my ear as his phone rang in his pocket. He ignored it and kissed my neck.
A few minutes later, his phone rang again. He rolled onto his side, reached into his jeans, pulled it out of his pocket, and threw it on the floor. His fingers trailed over my hip and down the back of my leg, then he pulled my knee to drape it across his hips. His phone rang again.
“Seriously?” he asked and looked up at the ceiling as if God made his phone ring.
“Maybe you should get it,” I suggested. “It might be something serious.”
He inhaled deeply and sat up. He leaned over to pick it up off the floor. “Don’t move,” he ordered with a smile as he dialled to check his voicemail.
His face dropped and his eyebrows angled together as he listened. He stood before the message was finished. I sat up and watched him grab his jacket. He put it on with one arm as he maneuvered the phone to keep listening. After he hung up, he leaned in to kiss me. “They had to take Giselle back to the hospital in an ambulance. She’s having trouble breathing. They want me to meet them there.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, it’s fine. It’s probably just another clot. I’ll call you when I know what’s going on.” He grinned in a very sexy way and pointed at me. “Thanks for this.”
“My pleasure.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.”
“Okay, hold on.” I stood and grabbed my sweater. “I’ll walk you to the front door.”
He phoned me an hour later, and it sounded like he was struggling. “Derian, can you come to the hospital? I need you.”
“I’ll be right there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
My granddad didn’t have anyone who could cover for him at the Inn on such short notice, and with only my learner’s permit, I couldn’t drive without an adult in the car yet. I had to ask Trevor’s dad to drive me into town to meet Steve at the hospital. I made arrangements to sleep over at Sophie’s, so Jim wouldn’t have to hang around waiting for me, or drive back and forth a second time.
I asked at the hospital reception desk which room Giselle was in. They sent me to the third-floor waiting room. I had never met Steve’s parents, but I could tell right away the man by the door was his dad. He looked like an older version of Steve. I assumed the distraught woman in his dad’s arms was his mom. Steve was hunched over on a chair in the corner with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands.
I crossed the room quietly and sat on the chair beside him. When I wrapped my arms around him, he leaned towards me without even looking up. I didn’t ask him what had happened because it was obviously bad. I just held him and rested my cheek on his back. We sat like that for a really long time, until a doctor came in and escorted his parents out of the room.
Steve looked over at me, his eyes red and puffy. “She died,” he said.
His words slammed into my abdomen with a force that nearly made me buckle over. “What? No. She was doing better. I don’t understand.”
He sat back and stared at the wall, stunned. “A blot clot moved from her lungs to her brain. She had a stroke.” His eyelids drooped heavily and a perplexed look crossed his face as he shook his head. “Just yesterday she was laughing. She told me what to buy you for Valentine’s Day, and she made me promise I would let her style my hair for our date tomorrow.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, barely audible because I was reliving the moment I found out my dad had died.
“She’s gone. It’s so surreal. Is this what it felt like when your dad died?”
I nodded.
“I can’t believe it,” he murmured. “I can’t believe she’s dead.” He stood abruptly, grabbed the back of a chair, and flung it against the wall, breaking the glass of the picture frame. I flinched and covered my face. He threw another chair, took long strides across the room, and swung the door open so violently it dented the wall.
I ran to follow him down the hall. He made it to an emergency exit and kicked it open, which set off an alarm. He rushed down the steel exit staircase and across the parking lot. It was pouring rain. I caught up and grabbed his elbow to stop him, then wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tightly. At first, he just stood tensely, breathing heavily. Eventually, his shoulders dropped, he rested his hands on my waist, and he cried.
The funeral was three days later. Steve didn’t let go of my hand until the last person left. Pretty much every person in Squamish had either attended the service or dropped by the Rawlings’ house with dishes of food. It was after midnight by the time everyone left. His parents went to their room. Steve and I went to his room. I sat on the end of his bed and watched him take off his dress clothes. He didn’t say anything before he went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
“Do you want to talk?” I asked when he stepped back into the room.
He shook his head and kissed my cheek before crawling onto the mattress.
“Can I get you anything?”
He stretched his arm out so I would lie next to him. He hugged me tightly into his chest and whispered, “Thanks for being here.”
I knew I was going to fall asleep, which was fine because his parents were too out of it to care if I stayed. I was supposed to be sleeping over at Sophie’s anyway, so my granddad wouldn’t miss me.
As I snuggled with Steve, he fell asleep. It made me remember how Trevor had slept on the floor in my room for the week after my dad died. I moved down to the condo right after the funeral and didn’t talk to him for a long time. I couldn’t remember ever thanking him for being there when I needed it the most.
In the morning,
I snuck downstairs to make Steve breakfast. I knew he wouldn’t feel like eating, but it gave me something to do. I carried a tray with a glass of orange juice and a bowl of yogurt back upstairs. His laptop was on, so I put the tray down on his desk and read all the comments about Giselle on the memorial page. I checked my email too and saw that Trevor had gotten back to me.
Hey Deri, I know you’ve been waiting for an update. Unfortunately, the little girl we were searching for didn’t survive. The weather was bad, and we took too long to get to her. She was right where you saw her in your vision, though. You did a great job. We failed. I know you’re dealing with a lot right now. You probably need a hug, and I’m sorry I’m not there for you.
Take care, Trev
There were a million things I could have written so Trevor would know how I was doing, but in the end, it all boiled down to three words. I miss you. He would understand. I sent the email and crawled back into bed with Steve. He was still asleep. I kissed him on the forehead and snuggled against his chest. I cried quietly for Giselle, and the little girl in Iceland, and because life was getting really hard.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Steve missed another three weeks of school. When he finally came back, he was still messed up. He quit student council, stopped practicing with the tennis team, ditched the casino fundraiser night, and rarely talked to anyone—including me. I felt horrible because I didn’t know how to make it better for him. I decided to keep trying, even though he pushed me away each time.
Trevor only emailed once in all that time. He wrote: Steve is lucky to have you. Take care, Trev. It was short, but it meant a lot. It was as if he had read my mind and knew I felt like I was doing a crappy job of supporting Steve. Trevor made it look so easy when he found the right things to say to me. It wasn’t easy. I tried at least fifty different angles with Steve. At best, he ignored them, and at worst, I ended up making him withdraw even more. To motivate myself to keep trying with Steve, I read Trevor’s message over and over and saved it as new so it would pop up in my inbox every day. It worked.
Just before spring break, I hunted Steve down at his locker. He had gotten visibly thinner, and his hair was kind of messy, like he didn’t care. “Hey,” I said and kissed his cheek.
“Hey.” He sighed.
“Do you want to hang out after school?”
He dropped books into his bag without much focus. “No, thanks.”
“How about on the weekend?”
After he zipped his bag shut and threw it over his shoulder, he glanced at me. “I think I’m going to be pretty busy.”
“Yeah? With what?”
“Stuff.”
“Steve.” I grabbed his elbow and glared at him. “You can start living again. It’s okay to go on living. I promise. I know it doesn’t feel fair that you can still do all the things your sister will never get to do again. But you have a responsibility to do them because the one thing Giselle would have asked for was to live. You’ve been given that gift, and you’re wasting it. She’s probably mad at you for not taking advantage of the one thing she misses the most.”
He stared at me for a long time, and based on his expression, my speech had sunk in. Eventually, he smiled and leaned in to kiss me. “How about hiking on Saturday?”
“Perfect. I would love to go hiking on Saturday.”
He stretched his arm around my waist as we turned and walked down the hall. “Thanks Deri.”
I couldn’t stop smiling because I finally said the right thing. It felt good to get it right. “You’re welcome.”
Things started going really well after that. Steve and I did things together like hiking, mountain biking, canoeing, and off-roading. We always chose something active because it kept his mind off his sister better if we didn’t have to talk. I was great at coming up with adventurous outdoorsy date ideas like zip-trekking and caving. I even convinced him we should bungee jump from the railroad bridge, but I chickened out on that one. I wasn’t crazy brave. Steve started to smile and laugh again. The Inn was busier with more guest bookings. My mom and I talked on the phone at least once a week, and we actually had lots to talk about. Then, the best thing of all happened. Doug was asked to play drums with a band opening for Molten. The regular drummer broke his arm when he wiped out on his motorcycle, so Doug was scheduled to play with them for the last three dates of their tour in Vancouver, Seattle, and Los Angeles. It was a huge opportunity for him, and I was so proud. We all made plans to go downtown to watch the concert.
On the Saturday of Doug’s Vancouver show, Steve came by the Inn early. We hung out in the library and played chess while we waited for Sophie and the rest of the guys from the band to pick us up in the van. He played his knight badly on purpose, so I called him on it. “Hey! Are you trying to lose?”
He smiled and sat back in the chair. “No.”
“Yes you are. You don’t need to do that. I can beat you fair and square.”
He shook his head to disagree.
“What? You think because I’m a girl, you need to take it easy on me?”
“No. It has nothing to do with your gender.”
“Then bring it on.”
“Okay, you asked for it.” He made three moves and I was in checkmate. I pouted and crossed my arms. “That.” He pointed at my face. “Is why I don’t want to beat you at chess. I don’t like seeing that face.”
“I can handle it. It’s not like I’m a poor loser.”
He laughed, not convinced, and set up the pieces again. Trevor’s dad walked into the library. His expression looked too serious. My skin turned cold, as if someone had opened all the windows, ripped my clothes off, and drenched me in a bucket of icy water. My heart pounded in a demented rhythm. I knew without him even saying a word that Trevor had been hurt.
“What happened?”
Jim pressed his lips together and glanced at Steve before running his hand through his hair. Steve looked back and forth between Jim and me. He could probably feel the dread ooze out of me.
“Just tell me, Jim. Is he okay?”
“He had a fall.”
I dug my fingers into the armrest of the chair, trying to hold on so I wouldn’t collapse to the ground. “Oh my God. How bad is it?”
“I’m not sure yet. His gear failed. He fell about thirty feet into a crevasse. They needed to repel in to lift him out. Murphy’s going to call again when he knows more about his injuries.”
My heart alternately raced and then stopped. Each time it stopped, it made me gasp. “Why didn’t I see it?” I mumbled under my breath.
Jim walked across the room and wrapped his arms around me to give me a quick hug. “I’ll let you know when Murphy calls with more information.” Uncomfortable with emotions, he turned and walked back out of the library.
Steve looked like he had no idea what to do. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he finally said.
Sophie and the guys pulled up in front of the Inn and honked. I stood and took a few deep breaths to collect myself. “Please, don’t tell Sophie. I don’t want to be a downer during Doug’s big night.”
We walked to the lobby, and I fought with my expression so it wouldn’t show my anxiety. It must not have worked. Steve stopped me and said, “You can stay here. I’ll tell her you’re sick or something.”
“No. I want to be there for Doug. And if I stay here by myself I’ll go insane with worry.”
Steve nodded and took my hand to lead me outside. I plastered on a smile when Sophie slid the van door open, but she could tell right away I was faking. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I hopped in and sat in the back row.
Sophie made eye contact with Steve to see if he would spill it. He just smiled and sat next to me. Sophie glanced back and forth between us but eventually turned and slid the van door shut again.
When we got to the arena, she pulled me into the bathroom and stared me down. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. This is Doug’s big night. Let’s just have fun.
”
“Deri.”
Not able to lie any longer, I caved. “Trevor fell while he was climbing. I don’t know how bad his injuries are.”
“Shit.” She leaned her butt against the sink.
“I don’t understand why I didn’t see it before it happened. I could have warned him.”
“Maybe it’s a good sign you didn’t have a Spidey-sense beforehand. It means it wasn’t serious.”
“I don’t know. My intuition isn’t exactly reliable.”
“You definitely would have felt something if he was in real danger.”
I nodded and let hope sink in. I wanted her theory to be true. If she was right, it meant he was fine. “Okay.” I took a deep breath to calm down. “There’s nothing I can do about it right now anyway. Jim said he would update me once he knew more. Let’s just enjoy the concert.”
After thinking about it, she sighed, then nodded and we went to our seats. The show rocked and we were invited back stage. I had never seen Doug so pumped. I tried really hard to hold it together, but he knew as soon as he hugged me. “What’s wrong, Deri?”
“Nothing. You were awesome. I’m so proud of you.”
“Why are you trembling?”
“I guess because it was such a rush to see you up on stage at a real concert.”
He held my shoulders. “Why are you upset?”
“It’s nothing, Doug, really. Enjoy your moment.” My phone rang. “Excuse me.” I ran to a door and stepped out into a corridor, where it was quiet. “Hello.” All I could hear was crackling and realized it was because I was in the concrete arena. The signal wasn’t coming through. I ran to the nearest exit and burst out the door.
“Deri?” Murphy asked.
“Yeah. How is he?” My eyes clenched shut as I braced for the answer.
“Broken ribs, a collapsed lung, some deep lacerations that needed stitches, and a concussion.”
“So, he’s going to be okay?”
“Eventually.” He chuckled. “Both his body and ego are going to be sore for a while.”