I looked up from the screen, and Jerry’s truck was driving away with my best friend in it. It was too late. He was gone and neither one of us said goodbye.
The hardest part to watching Oliver disappear in the mist was realizing that I was right all along. Love… one way or another, it always made us lose the most important person in our life.
Love destroyed everything.
Oliver
I watched her in the window as my uncle drove away and swallowed my tears down as far as I could.
You were supposed to be my best friend, Abbygail. Best friends don’t relinquish so easily. They don’t yield to a simple obstacle, they fight. They fight for one another, they fight together. You surrendered...
How could you?
My Father’s Wise Words
Oliver
I woke up startled by the flight attendant’s rattling concession cart distributing the regular snacks and drinks. As she passed by our seats, I declined her offer. My uncle, on the other hand, ordered himself a bottle of water and dropped a can of soda on my lap. My eyes lowered, bothered by the coldness. I chuckled sarcastically. Of all the drinks he could have picked, he grabbed me a root beer. It was as if life was enjoying my current misery, high fiving itself with every blow it could possibly inflict on my open wounds.
“I already said I didn’t want anything.”
“Take it, son. You need the energy.”
“I am not your son,” I replied in anger.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, annoyed. “Just leave me alone, Uncle Jerry.”
I stared at my uncle’s reflection though the window while pretending to look outside. Aside from being younger by three years, he and my dad looked so much alike, they could have been twins. They had the same dark eyes and tall build, the same crinkle on their forehead when they smiled. The difference was in the way they appeared to people. My uncle was such a serious man compared to my father, that most of the time he looked unapproachable. And ever since his brother passed away, it was ten times worse. He had a grim smile, probably disappointed by my lack of desire to communicate with him, but bonding with my dad’s brother was the last thing I needed.
I wanted my dad.
Period.
No one could replace him.
This is the stupidest idea ever…
Anger pulsed through my veins. I loathed my dad for leaving us, abandoning his battle and conceding to the pain of his wounds. I was mad at my mom for agreeing to leave Carrington. But most of all, my hatred was directed at Abby.
I lifted my legs on my seat and grabbed my knees, shielding my sheepish face from prying eyes. I felt the look of pity in my uncle’s silence, but ignored him. Everything hurt, and all I wanted was to bleed out the incessant agony I carried in my heart.
How could she just give up on us so easily?
“Was that Abby I saw in the window across the street from your house?” my uncle asked, breaking our whole ten minutes of peaceful silence.
“Yup.” I kept my eyes closed and faced the wall, hoping he would understand that talking about Abby wasn't a good idea.
“I saw her with you at the funeral. She’s gotten hot over the years.”
My eyes shot wide open, almost bulging out of my head.
Is he fucking serious? That comment was wrong on so many levels.
I turned my head towards him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Well, no. She’s a very pretty girl, Oliver.”
“SHE is sixteen, Uncle Jerry.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “Seriously, Oliver? Do you actually think so little of me?”
I raised my shoulders. There was so much chaos is my head. I wasn’t sure about how I felt about anything anymore.
“A bit protective, aren’t we?” he teased. “I meant that she’s turning into a stunning young lady, kid. Guys at school must be lining up to date her.”
I muffled a laugh.
If I have my way, Abby won’t be dating anyone until she makes it to University.
“I’m actually surprised you two aren’t an item yet, or haven’t been at least. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two friends being so drawn to one another, before.”
“Yeah, so I’ve been told,” I muttered.
He looked at me inquisitively. “Your mom tells me you and Abbygail got into a pretty big fight before you left. Do you want to talk about it?”
I put my headphones over my ears and turned on my music making it clear we were done with our conversation.
“Is that why she didn’t come down to say goodbye? She looked pretty sad in that window of hers.”
I took off my headphones. “What part of my putting these over my head don’t you understand, Uncle Jerry? I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you, not with anyone. Abbygail, is off any conversation limits. Got it?”
He took my iPod away from my hands. “She’s your best friend, Oliver.”
“You know nothing about us,” I sneered. “Nothing. But let me clue you in since you seem so interested in my life for the first time in… ever. She and I are over. Whatever we had got destroyed the moment I admitted to her that I was moving to B.C.” I could feel the screeching pain making its way up to my throat. I was ready to explode. “Now can we just please not talk about this anymore?”
“Time has a way of healing things,” he replied confidently.
“Time will heal nothing. Just goes to show how little you know of Abby and me. She will never forgive me for leaving her.”
“Oliver, I know you’re second guessing yourself right now. Changing homes, schools, friends, after all you’ve already been through; it’s tough. But I want to remind you that you chose this, and you did for a reason. Try to remember them.”
Trust me, I’m trying…I’m trying pretty fucking hard right now.
“You don’t get it, Uncle Jerry, I don’t want time. I want her. I miss her. This, moving away thing, it’s the stupidest idea I ever had. I can’t do this.”
Finally understanding that it was his silence that I was desperately craving, he handed me my iPod back.
“You know what, kid? I’m going to give you the best advice your father ever gave me many years ago. I live with his words of wisdom every day, and it’s exactly what he would tell you if he was here with us.”
I eyed him curiously, showing him he had my full attention.
“Don’t live with regrets, Oliver. Nothing good ever comes out of them.”
Breathless
Abbygail
My off-again-on-again relationship with Oliver should have been a good training method for his leaving, but seriously, nothing compared to his true absence. I couldn’t feel him anymore, and every time I came to the realization that he wasn’t within reach, I felt the incessant growing pain in the depth of my heart. It was weird to watch the whole world continue to revolve even though my own felt like it had stopped. The constant ache and emptiness I felt kept me unfocused all day and up all night.
All I wanted was for it to stop.
As the hours drew into days, and days into weeks, I felt numb. I did nothing except what I was told. I got up in the morning, got dressed, went to school, came home, did my homework, my chores, and went to bed. I tried to eat, but more often than not my food ended up in the garbage. My body was wasting away. My mom was worried about me, and so were my friends. Whenever they tried to help or intervene, I got angry. The only thing that seemed to work and calm me down was the sound of the rustling branches that came from my willow tree. Something about them helped sooth my pain, but it was never for very long. As soon as the wind died down, so did my serenity.
“Abbygail?” Stephan called, stepping out from my backyard patio door. “I just spoke with your mom. She said you were out here. Do you mind if I join you?”
I shrugged at him indifferently. I knew very well that he never would have shown up here alone if Oliver was around. He walked down the wooden stairs to join me.
“Ca
n I sit?”
I was lying on the comforter Oliver and I always used when we spent our late nights out, and I motioned him to join me. Stephan was bulkier than Oliver. It’s what made him a good running-back. If I wasn’t accustomed to him, I would have been scared to turn on his bad side, but to me, he was just like a big teddy bear.
“How are you holding up?” he asked. He took a seat and leaned on the trunk beside me.
“I’m good, you?”
“Likewise, I guess. Do you miss him?”
I huffed.
What a stupid question.
“Why are you here, Stephan?” I asked. I was suddenly very annoyed by his unexplained presence.
“I came to see how you were doing. You didn’t show up at Liam’s party like you said you would. We’re all pretty worried about you Abby.”
“Well, don’t be. I’ll be fine.” I hid my head between my knees and put my hand over it so he wouldn’t see me cry again.
“Abbygail–”
“Let’s say you’re playing a football game,” I interrupted facing him. Who cared about my tears anyway? “And you’re about to receive the ball from your quarterback, but the offensive player takes you by surprise and slams right into you head first, hitting you right in the gut the exact moment you’re finally able to catch the ball. How would you feel?”
“Fucking pissed?” he replied, amused by my question.
Such a typical guy answer…
“No, I mean physically. How does it feel?”
“Well I guess if I’m not expecting the hit, then I can’t protect myself. Can I?”
I shook my head, not that it made much difference at the end result.
“I’d say that I would probably be out of breath for a few seconds.”
I looked into his eyes so that he could grasp onto what I was trying to make him understand. “That’s how I’m doing, Stephan. Except, it’s not that I can’t breathe for a few seconds, it’s like I can’t breathe all the fucking time.”
Tears were running down my face.
“Everyone wants me to move on, or tells me that Oliver’s leaving isn’t the end of the world. It is to me. No one gets it. Oliver and I have spent almost every waking moment of our lives together. Hell, I’m unable to count the nights we haven’t spent together in the past year, and now, he’s gone.”
I wiped the tears that couldn’t help falling.
“I mean, I get it. I understand why he left. I’m not selfish. I never would have held him back, especially if it’s to help himself get better. I don’t want him taking drugs, or have him spiraling out of control. I want him happy and healthy, but he gave me less than forty-eight hours to adapt, and he left without saying goodbye. Am I not allowed to deal with this in my own way? His leaving hurts.”
“Come here,” he said picking me up in his strong arms. I sat on his lap. Without saying a word, he let me cry on his shoulder again.
The branches of the willow tree rustled with the cold breeze. I pulled Stephan’s arms tighter around me and I listened to the soothing sound of his heartbeat mixed with the whispering of the remaining leaves.
***
“Are you asleep?” Stephan asked, breaking the silence.
I had stopped crying and we were just sitting quietly, listening to the wind. “No”
But I haven’t felt this calm in weeks
“I do have a favor to ask though.”
“I’m all ears, babe.”
I let out a soft chuckle. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the nickname he decided to give me. “Um… well, I know this is going to sound weird, and please don’t read anything into it because I swear it’s nothing more than what I’m asking.”
“Okay?”
“Would you mind spending the night with me?”
He pulled my shoulders away from his chest to look at me and raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure this isn’t you asking me to sleep with you? ’Cause I’m not sure I’m quite comfortable with this new admission of yours, Abbygail.”
I smirked and playfully smacked him on the shoulder. “I just told you to not read into it you perv.”
“And there’s that smile that I love,” he chuckled. “I was kidding. And yes Abs, I’m in.”
***
Stephan looked at me curiously when I held out Oliver’s old football jersey for him to sleep in. It was obvious that he was wondering why I still had his clothing in my drawer. He hadn’t claimed the stuff he left in my room before he left and the truth was, even if he had, I wouldn’t have given them back.
“I have a bunch of them,” I specified in response to his non-verbal question. “He left his stuff lying around like my room was his own personal space, all the time.”
“Really? Didn’t bother you?”
I shook my head. “No. I did the same at his place.”
Except my stuff is now neatly put away in my own drawers and closet.
Stephan chuckled. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you two are the weirdest best friends on the planet.”
I grabbed my own shirt and boxers and stepped out in the hallway with a tight smile.
Were. We were the weirdest best friends…
I noticed Stephan wandering around my room when I came back from the bathroom. His attention was fixated on my walls that were covered in pictures of Oliver and me. I watched him curiously as he looked and grinned at the many frames, and I wondered what was going through his mind.
“That’s when I turned four,” I said as I stepped closer to him. He startled at my interruption. “My father took the picture of Oliver and me at the Orchard in Westminster.”
The curiosity in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed when he turned to look at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your dad before.”
I raised my shoulders. It was true. I rarely spoke of him with my other friends. I had in the past, when I was much younger, but at the age of sixteen, I compared my relationship with Simon to an old piece of pizza in a greasy cardboard box: unappealing and unwanted.
“There’s not much to say. He left us the same year we took the picture. End of story.”
“I’m really sorry, Abs”
“About who? Simon? Trust me, Steph, you have nothing to be sorry about.”
He didn’t seem convinced by my answer but didn’t push the subject further. “Well I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that it’s a nice picture of you two, that’s all.”
“Stephan,” I replied. “I’m not the kind of person who cares about people looking at my stuff. Trust me. You wouldn’t be here if I was. As for my father, he left, and I don’t talk about him because I don’t care for him.”
I walked over to my nightstand, dropped my clothing in the hamper, and took a frame off the wall, handing it to Stephan.
“Hey, was this on the first of July?”
I nodded smiling. It was a picture of Oliver and him sitting on my backyard deck talking to each other with the sun setting to their right side. It was a perfect image of their chemistry.
“This picture is awesome, Abs. Who took it?”
“I’m guessing Tyler did with Henry’s camera. You know how much he likes taking pictures. Oliver has the same one in his room.”
Had, not has. Fuck this is going to take a lot of getting used to...
Stephan didn’t notice my mishap, he simply admired the picture silently for a while. I could tell he missed his best friend just as much as I did.
“Keep it.” I said as he tried to hang the frame back on my wall. “It’s yours.”
“Thanks, Abby, but I can’t take it.”
“I want you to have it, Stephan. He was your best friend, and you deserve it even more than I do. Besides…” I tried to smile. “My room is covered in pictures of him. One less won’t make a difference.”
“But then you won’t have one of me,” he teased.
“I will,” I smiled. “Soon enough.”
***
Silence fell between the both of us
after we went to bed. Stephan lay on his back breathing quietly. There was something in the way he held himself that told me that he wasn’t as comfortable as he claimed to be.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked breaking the stillness.
“Frankly?” he said turning to me. “About how pissed Oliver would be if he found out that you and I were sharing the same bed right now. I doubt his asking me to look after you meant sleeping with you.”
I furrowed my brow.
“Oliver asked you to look after me?” I wasn’t sure I wanted Stephan in my room anymore. “I don’t need a babysitter Stephan.”
“You’re right, you don’t. You need a friend. I’m that friend. And I would have done it anyway, Abby. My being here has nothing to do with him. We’re friends, and looking after each other is what we’re supposed to do.”
“Do you really believe he’d mind that you’re spending the night with me?”
“Mind? Fuck that, babe. He’d be furious, and if he knew we were sharing a bed right now, he’d fly all the way back and beat the shit out of me. But honestly, I don’t care. You smiled tonight, Abs. I haven’t seen your smile since I called you ‘babe’ in the skate park. So I couldn’t care less how Oliver feels about us spending tonight, or any other night for that matter, together.”
Stephan stretched his arm around me and pulled me closer to him.
“I miss him so much, Steph.”
“I know, babe, I do too. Have you thought about writing to him? Maybe it could help.”
“I tried. He unsubscribed his messenger account.”
“Yeah, he told me he would. I think Oliver wanted to detach himself from us; makes saying goodbye easier. You know?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t. It’s stupid. Cutting himself off like we don’t matter is ridiculous.”
“He didn’t do it because we don’t matter, Abby. He did it because we matter too much. Just write him a letter the old fashioned way, through the postal service. I’m pretty sure your mother has their new address.”
I yawned, hugging my pillow tighter. “I’ll think about it.”
No Regrets (No Regrets #1) Page 12