Crashing Into You

by Unknown

  Soft laughter arose from the back of the room. I looked at Mr. Hernandez, who simply shrugged; apparently he thought the question was valid.

  “Let me get this straight,” Todd said. “You want the legal driving age to be raised from sixteen to nineteen, and you think anyone who’s caught drinking alcohol under the age of twenty-one should spend an entire week in prison. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” I wrung my hands together, and avoided eye contact. “These are just ideas, suggestions, for how to stop this epidemic. And I mean it, when I say, epidemic. I know everyone likes to let loose once in a while, trust me, I’ve been there. But the statistics are real. Over 10,000 people died last year because they had a few drinks before they got behind the wheel. Nearly 2,000 of those? Teenagers, aged sixteen to nineteen. Do you find that funny, Todd? Is that a joke to you?”

  “Of course not,” he said. The laughter ceased. “But come on. You could say that about anything. There are thousands of car crashes every day where alcohol wasn’t a factor. Are we supposed to get rid of cars, too?"

  “That's totally not the same—”

  “I agree with Todd,” a girl said, interrupting me. Maddie, the sole ginger in the class. “Alcohol isn’t the problem. I studied abroad last semester, and I saw twelve year olds walking around with beers in their hands. It’s not a problem over there. It’s a problem here because of people like you, Sydney, who want to put restrictions on everything.”

  “Look.” I paused, waited for Mr. Hernandez to put a stop to this. He said nothing. “We’re throwing car keys at our kids when they’re still kids, and they’re getting behind the wheel before they’re ready. That's all I'm saying.”

  “When do you want them to be ready?” Todd asked. “When they’re thirty-five?”

  “Yeah, or how about fifty?” Maddie added.

  “I’m not the only one who thinks this. There are studies, there are petitions. Teenagers are dying, and we’re not doing anything about it.”

  Todd chuckled and tapped his fingers against his desk. “What, and you will? You know what I think? You’re gonna talk about this your whole life, but you’ll never do a damn thing. Because you know, as well as I do, sometimes shit happens. And there's nothing you can do to stop it.”

  “Hey! Todd, that’s enough,” the teacher said.

  “Can I be done, Mr. Hernandez?” I asked. He nodded, and I headed back to my seat. I was on the verge of tears. I had to sit down before anyone noticed.

  “Afraid of a little confrontation there, Sydney?” Todd continued, so cocky I wanted to strike him across the face with the hardback sociology book. “Afraid I might be right?”

  “Stop being an ass, Todd,” Evan said, finally coming to my defense. “She made some good points.”

  Todd spun around. “Oh, you’re the one to talk, Evan. I’m pretty sure I saw you tossing back about a thousand Jell-O shots at Michael’s party last weekend.”

  “I was not,” he said, but looked the other way.

  “Sure you were! You were the champion!” Todd returned his gaze to me. “I’m not sure I saw you there, Sydney. Oh wait, that's right. You're afraid of parties, aren't you? You're afraid of people who like to have a little fun.”

  I bit down on my tongue. Tried not to scream. “I’m not afraid of parties, you idiot.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Todd, I'll say it one more time, that's enough,” Mr. Hernandez said.

  “Yeah, dude, shut up!” Evan added.

  Todd jumped up from his seat. Crossed his arms. “No! I wanna know! You want to do all these things, Sydney. You want to change society as we know it. But why? What is it to you?”

  “Because!” I didn’t think. I just did it. I lifted up my hair. Showed the laceration that stretched from above my right ear, all the way to the back of my head. “It happened to me, all right? My boyfriend was driving drunk and hit another car. He flew through the windshield, died on impact. He killed a mom, and her son. And I almost died, too. I would have, if the ambulance hadn’t showed up in time.” I paused. The room was dead silent. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about that little boy, what I could have done differently that night so he could still be alive. Was having a little fun that night worth another human life, Todd? A child’s life? I don’t think so.” My eyes swept the room. I looked at Mr. Hernandez, then at all the other students. “Anybody else have any fucking questions?”

  Evan and I walked in silence down the hallway after class, until we exited U-Hall and got away from our classmates.

  “That was so amazing, oh my God,” he said, shaking his head. “Holy shit, Syd. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “About what?”

  “You know damn well what. Mel told me you were in a car accident. She didn’t say people died. Why would you keep that from me?”

  “I don't know. It's just... it’s not something I like to talk about.”

  “Man, you put Todd in his place. I thought he was gonna piss his pants.”

  I laughed. “I wish he would’ve. What an asshole. Why does he do that?”

  “He does that to everyone in the class. He just likes to be the center of attention, that's all. He's the same way at parties. He can be fun, but he's super insecure—”

  “Oh, so what he said was true then?”

  “About what?”

  “About that party you were both at. Were you the Jell-O shot champion?”

  He didn’t answer right away. His silence told me he was. Evan could be so disappointing at times. He was always the perfect guy when he was with me, but then I heard stories about him that made me roll my eyes. It was like he pretended to be the sweet, caring guy when he was around me, but the real Evan was the guy who woke up every morning hung-over, having beaten out his frat bros the night before in the latest beer chugging contest.

  “He exaggerates,” Evan finally said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  We headed across the bridge and sauntered toward the sophomore dorms. Dozens of students crowded the walkway.

  “I mean, it's okay if you drink Jell-O shots, Evan. I don’t want you to think I'm some kind of loser.”

  “What? Why would I think that? Because you don’t drink?”

  “I can have fun. I’m not… you know… joyless.”

  “You are fun, Syd. I love spending time with you. You know that, right?”

  He said it in a casual, friendly way, but I had trouble separating my feelings for him from his choice of words. He had fun with me. He thought I was fun. I almost reached for his hand, but I stopped myself.

  “You don’t have to say that,” I said.

  “It’s true. I’m bummed our class is over. Who knows when we’ll get to spend more time together.”

  I slowed down. I’d been so worked up about the class that the realization hadn’t set in. These Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, chatting up Evan in the U-Hall food court, were done. Forever. I thought I was going to start crying again, for entirely different reasons.

  I licked my lips, tried to stay positive. “You know... we can still hang out, Evan.”

  “I don't know about that,” he said, glancing away from me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mel… she… how do I put this?” He slowed down. “She and I have been having some problems lately. Nothing major, but...”

  “Really? I had no idea.” And I didn’t. “I'm sorry.” Was I, though?

  “Yeah. I need to work hard on making things right with her. And me and you spending time together, now that our class is done... well, it probably won't help that.”

  He stopped when we reached my dorm entrance. He had another class across campus at noon, so he couldn’t stay long. Sometimes he went upstairs to hang out with Melanie, and sometimes he just kept on walking. It looked like he was going to pick the latter.

  I hesitated on asking the pivotal question, but I couldn't help myself. “You still lo
ve her, right?”

  He nodded. “Of course I do.”

  “How long have you been dating now?” I asked, trying to hide my disappointment. “It's been a year, right?”

  “A year on Tuesday. I can't believe it's already our anniversary.”

  “Yeah, I know. You have anything planned?”

  “Nothing major. Just a romantic dinner, and I'm gonna take her to Book of Mormon at the Pantages.”

  “But…” I didn't want to say it. I really didn’t want to look like the ultimate lame-o. “It’s finals next week.”

  He smiled, and tried to hold in a laugh, I could tell. “Mel can step away from studying for one night, Syd. It won’t kill her.” He nudged me on the shoulder. “It won’t kill you either, you know.”

  “I’ll have my fun in a week. When I walk out of my communications final next Friday, I’m headed straight for the beach. And I’m not leaving for the rest of the summer.”

  “I see. So you’ll pee in the ocean?”

  I slugged him. “Shut up.”

  “Just kidding. No, that sounds good to me. I can’t wait to go to the beach more. I've been so busy.”

  I grinned, and looked down. A few seconds passed, neither of us said anything. Here was that awkward moment again. Would he hug me, or just move along?

  “Well, it was nice to see you,” I said.

  “You too, Syd.”

  He leaned in, and wrapped his strong, slender arms around me. I didn’t know how to react. He’d hugged me before, but never like this, never with this kind of intimacy. I didn’t fight it. I wedged my arms under his, planted my head against his chest.

  “I’m sorry about what happened to you,” he said. “I wish you would have told me.”

  “It’s okay. It was years ago.”

  “Well, still. I don’t want you to hide things from me. We're friends. I care about you.”

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want the moment to ever end. I felt so safe in his arms, like I didn’t have to fear anything about my past, or my present. Why couldn’t he be with me? He wouldn't have any problems with me.

  “I care about you, too, Evan.”

  I brought my head back, peered into his delicate eyes. He smiled back at me. I wanted to kiss him. I really, really wanted to kiss him. Screw the consequences.

  “Evan?” a voice said behind me. “What are you doing?”

  My rapidly beating heart dropped down to my stomach. I turned around.

  It was Melanie.

  Chapter 4

  “Evan? Is that you?”

  He let me go so fast I almost fell. “Oh, hey Mel!” he said, with way too much enthusiasm. “I was just gonna come and get you!”

  He jogged up to her and gave her a sloppy kiss on the lips.

  I winced, then waved at her. “Hi Melanie.”

  “Hey.” She didn’t say my name. Not a good sign. “Is there a reason you two were just hugging each other?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Evan beat me to it. “Something happened in class,” he said. “She talked about something that was really painful.”

  “Oh?”

  I normally wouldn't have interjected, but I had to make sure she didn’t suspect anything. Not that she necessarily had anything to suspect, but still. “I told the class about my car accident. From high school.”

  “Oh,” she said again, more knowingly.

  “Yeah, I never really gave you all the details,” I said. “It’s worse than what I told you before.”

  “A lot worse,” Evan added.

  “Well, I'm sorry to hear that,” she said. She nodded at me, graciously, then turned to Evan. “Wanna get some breakfast?”

  “Uhh, sure.” I didn't think he was allowed to say no.

  “Okay, let's go.” She glanced back at me. Gave me a slight smile I couldn't tell was genuine or not. “See you later, Sydney.”

  “Bye!”

  I hurried back to my dorm room. Ran up the flights of stairs to the third story hallway and headed to the last door on the right. I swiped my student ID through the slot. A red light. Rejected. I tried it again. Same thing.

  “For God’s sake,” I said. My ID never worked. All year it took at least three attempts every time I tried to unlock the door.

  This time, it took five.

  I lay down on my bed, and closed my eyes, savored the silence. I thought of Evan, and nothing but Evan. Was I ever going to spend time with him again, away from Melanie? As far as I knew, we were both staying in L.A. for the summer. Maybe we'd bump into each other somewhere. Maybe.

  I went to my atmospheric science class at 2, my last regular class of the year. I debated skipping—I had attended every session of the semester and could afford an unexcused absence—but I figured the very thorough Mr. Langenbottom would give us prime tips for next week’s final. Of course, he didn’t. He rattled on about circulation patterns and convective heat transfers for the better part of an hour. He didn’t even mention the final.

  At the end of the class, I packed up and headed to the Lair, the university’s centrally located food court, for a late lunch. The place was always so dead on Fridays, but I found Lukas sitting at one of the round tables. He was wearing his usual—white collared shirt over brown Corduroy pants. He had hazel eyes, and black, spiked hair. He was a cute little thing. He was my only close friend at Loyola Marymount, the only one I spent time with outside of campus on a regular basis.

  He wasn’t my boyfriend, though; he wasn’t some medium-handsome guy I dated on the side while I pined after my number one dreamboat, Evan. No, Lukas had as much sexual interest in me as he had in an orangutan.

  “You’re studying already?” I asked, as I took a seat across from him. His head was buried in a book that looked a thousand pages. “You’re making me feel bad.”

  “I’m studying all weekend, I swear to God,” he said, and pressed his fingers against the sides of his black-framed glasses. “I have no idea why I signed up for six classes this semester.”

  “I don't either, that’s insane. I didn’t even know you could sign up for six.”

  “You’re allowed eighteen units. I took dance theory as an elective. Thought it might help raise my GPA a little, but it’s doing the opposite.” He took a bite of his turkey sandwich, then smiled real big and dorky. “But anyway, I'll get through it. Here's the real question.” He studied me for a moment. “Did you hang out with Evan this morning?” He enunciated his name for dramatic effect.

  I took a hearty bite of my Ranch-covered salad and said, “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? You totally did. Look at you. You’re radiating sex.”

  I almost choked on the lettuce. I darted my eyes in every direction, made sure Melanie, or one of her gossipy sorority sisters, wasn't listening. “Lukas, keep your voice down. What’s the matter with you?”

  Lukas knew I had a crush on Evan, but it was something between us. He rarely blurted it out for the whole school to hear. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. You’re kind of… I don’t know… glowing.”

  I leaned against the table and said, under my breath, “Thanks, I guess. But we did not have sex, Lukas. He’s my roommate’s boyfriend. Or did you forget that?”

  “No, I know.”

  “So why’d you say it?”

  “I didn’t say you had sex. I said you look like you had sex. Two very different things.” He brought his arms down to the table, and dipped his head even farther toward mine. “Isn’t it killing you inside? The desire to be with him?”

  “You know what, it's not, it’s fine. I like where our relationship is right now. There's a respect between us.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What relationship? You guys hang out once in a while and talk.”

  “So? It’s better than nothing. It’s better than seeing him make out with Melanie every time I walk into my dorm.” I took a sip from my water, then pushed the bottle between me and Lukas, so there was something blocking us. I hated when he kept asking me about Evan. It was all he ever seeme
d to care about anymore. “What’s it to you, anyway? Can’t you stop worrying about me all the time, and find a guy of your own?”

  He shook his head real fast, and sat back in his chair. “Nah. There’s nobody worth my time.”

  “Really? That’s so depressing. There’s a ton of cute guys around here, Lukas. At least some of them have to be gay. You’re just not looking hard enough.”

  He shoved his sandwich into his mouth and took a huge bite, but still tried to talk. “They’re all so immature,” he said, although what came out sounded more like, “They’re all manure.”

  I laughed.

  “What?” he said.

  “Nothing.” I sighed. Took another bite of my boring salad. I looked out the window, thought I saw a shirtless Evan playing frisbee with a friend. But it was someone else. “Did you know Evan’s one year anniversary with Melanie is on Tuesday?”

  “You're kidding. They’ve been going out that long?”

  “Apparently. It’s so unfair…” I plunked my forehead against the table.

  “Sydney?” Lukas brought his chin down to the table, pushed his hand against my forehead so he could see my face again. “What’s wrong?”

  “When do I get my anniversary?” I asked, and sat back up. “The only anniversary in my life is in October when Baskin Robbins brings back pumpkin ice cream.”

  He chuckled, and shot me a paternal look. “Well, my dear, I hate to break it to you, but you never go out. And when you do, it’s with me, the cutest guy on campus you can never have.” He paused, and gave me a phony wink. “And the only guy you’ve been crushing on for the last two years is the other guy on campus you can’t have, the one committed to his girlfriend, your roommate. My God, it’s like some cheesy soap opera.”

  “Don't remind me,” I said. I wanted to slam my forehead against the table again, but decided to stay upright. “Why do you have to be so damn right all the time?”

  “Because. It’s my job.”

  Lukas and I had been friends since the beginning of freshman year, since Intro to Philosophy. We bonded over all the movies we had to watch for the class, like Blade Runner, The Matrix, Being John Malkovich. He had a Netflix subscription so I started going to his dorm a lot to watch the DVDs. We discovered we both loved movies, so we started going to the nearby Rave Cinemas on the weekends to check out the newest offerings. And we’d been inseparable ever since.