Hanging by a Moment (Keeping Score #2)

by Tawdra Kandle

  “Look at it this way.” He was still speaking, but his eyes had dropped to fasten on our still-joined hands. “It’s a limited time marriage. I promise you, Quinn, I’m not going to be around to celebrate our golden anniversary. Most likely I won’t make it to our first one.” He leaned in, looking at me again. “But I promise that for as long as I do have, everything in my life will be focused on making you as happy as I can. You’ll have my heart and soul for as long as it’s mine to give.”

  I bit my lip and tried to catch my breath. I knew I had to give him an answer, but my voice wouldn’t work.

  “Quinn. Please. Just say yes.”

  Vulnerability and uncertainty battled on his face, and in a mad rush of memory, I saw everything Nate had been to me. I remembered the awkward toddler, learning to maneuver the walker that Leo and I didn’t need. I saw his lurching swagger when he was finally able to manage walking on his own. I saw the boy who saved me a swing every day, so the two of us could sit on the sidelines of the playground, and the teenager whose love for me had been steady and real for as long as I had lived.

  All of that gave me the strength I needed to utter one word.

  “Yes.”

  Senior Year

  April

  I hadn’t had a hangover like this for a long, long time. My head was pounding, and my mouth was like a roll of cotton. For a long disoriented moment, I couldn’t remember where I was or why I was awake. One hand groped out, reaching for Quinn, before my traitorous mind remembered the truth.

  She’s not in your bed. She hasn’t been in your bed for over a year. And she’s fucking marrying someone else.

  The pain stabbed again, just as sharp and fresh as it had the first time I’d heard the news. Quinn had made sure it came from her, and she’d actually called me, explaining what was going on. I’d run through the gamut of emotion from grief over Nate’s news to anger over what he was asking of Quinn to hurt over the fact that she’d agreed.

  Quinn was engaged to Nate. They were getting married in two months. I didn’t have to do much mental arithmetic, because the countdown ticked away in my brain on a daily basis.

  On the bedside table next to me, my phone sounded, and I realized that was what had awakened me. Its insistent ring and vibration paused and then started up again. Clearly someone was trying to get through to me and wasn’t going to give up.

  I frowned as I focused my bleary eyes on the screen and answered. “Gia? What’s up?” I didn’t hear from her very often, and worry for Quinn and for Nate threaded through me.

  “Leo, do you know where Matt is?” I heard the concern in her voice. “He’s not with you, is he?”

  “Ah . . .” I rubbed my neck and tried to think. “I don’t know if he’s home. He didn’t go out with us last night, and I just woke up. What’s going on?”

  “He tried to call me last night. Like, a lot. Ten times, maybe more. I lost my phone, thought I’d left it in someone’s car, and then I just found it this morning in my other bag—God, that doesn’t matter. He left one message, and I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say.” She sniffled, and I heard her take a long breath. “Leo, I’m worried about him.”

  “Yeah.” I raked one hand over my hair. The truth was, we were all worried about Matt, even more than normal. Since he’d been kicked off the team last fall, he’d gradually stopped going to classes, and there was no way he was going to graduate next month. His grandfather had called me occasionally, asking if there was anything we could do to help get Matt back on track. I’d refrained, barely, from telling the man that his concern was too little, too late. If his grandparents had cared back in high school, we might not be watching him spiral now.

  And then two weeks ago, Gia had come down for an unexpected visit. I’d had to sit in my bedroom in misery, listening as she told Matt that they were over, for good.

  “I can’t do this anymore.” Her voice had been filled with such anguish that it brought tears to my eyes. “Matt, I love you. I’ve loved you for four years, but God, you destroy me. Loving you has made me happier than anything else, ever, but it’s also almost killed me. I want to believe you can turn things around, but I don’t think you can do it while I’m part of your life. Or maybe I’m not strong enough to give you what you need to get better.”

  “Gia, no.” Matt had actually begged her, which was out of character for him. “Please. Just give me another chance. I’m pulling it together, baby. I’m going to stop drinking, and I was thinking . . . I could go finish up school at Birch, with you. I can make it happen, baby.”

  “How many fucking times have you promised me everything was going to get better, Matt? How many fucking times have you broken my heart? You think I don’t know you’re still dicking around? You think I don’t see the pictures, hear the stories? No, Matt. I’m done. I’m sorry, but it’s over.”

  It had all gone downhill from there, with Matt shouting obscenities at Gia until she finally fled the apartment, sobbing.

  “Was this the first time you’ve heard from him since . . . since you were here?” Matt hadn’t mentioned her name once since that night.

  “Yeah. He texted me once, but it didn’t mean anything. That’s why I was freaking out this morning, when I saw all his calls. Can you check and see if he’s in his bedroom?”

  “Ah, sure.” I stood up, giving my head a minute to stop spinning before I opened my bedroom door and walked the few steps to Matt’s. “Hold on, Gia.”

  I knocked on the door, not too hard at first, and then with increasing volume. When I didn’t hear anything from inside the room, I opened it and looked inside.

  Matt’s bed was empty, which didn’t surprise me, but what was odd was that the bed was made. His room was neat, as though he’d done his sort-of annual cleaning last night. Matter of fact, I was pretty sure I’d never seen Matt’s room look so good.

  I lifted the phone to my ear again. “No, he’s not here, Gia. I’m sorry.”

  She blew out a long breath. “Shit. Okay. You said he didn’t go out with you last night. Where was he?”

  I cast my mind back. “Uh, he was here. I went out with some guys from the team, though, and you know he won’t hang with them anymore. Tate drove us. Matt said . . .” What the hell had he said? “He said he needed a little downtime, and he’d see me later.” Now it began to come back to me, and with the memory came an overwhelming sense of foreboding. “Gia. When I left, Matt hugged me. He told me not to worry about him, just to go have a good time.” Why hadn’t I picked up right then that something was off? Matt never said shit like that. Why had I been so wrapped up in my own misery that I’d missed my friend’s odd words?

  “My God. Leo, you’ve got to find him. Where would he go?”

  “I have no idea. He doesn’t have any other friends down here anymore, not that I know of. He almost never leaves the apartment, unless he’s going to a bar or the liquor store or—”

  “Or to score drugs or women, right? I’m not stupid, Leo, and you don’t have to protect me from Matt. Not now.”

  I opened my mouth to answer her, but before I could, the doorbell rang. Relief flooded through me.

  “Gia, that’s probably him at the door. He’s always forgetting his damn keys. Let me talk to him, and then I’ll call you back and let you know what’s going on.”

  “No.” She was adamant. “Don’t you dare hang up this phone, Leo. I want to hear now.”

  “Fine.” I unlocked the door and swung it open. “Dude, you are in so much . . .” My voice trailed off at the sight of Coach on the other side. “Gia, it’s not Matt.”

  “Leo, son.” Coach’s face was somber, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think his eyes were red. “I need to come in and talk to you.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I stepped back and covered the mouthpiece of the phone, holding it up. “Matt’s girlfriend—well, his ex-girlfriend, I guess—is trying to find him. Let me just tell her that I’ll call her back.”

  Coach was never known for hi
ding his emotions, and this morning wasn’t any exception. I saw the expression on his face when I said Matt’s name, and suddenly, I knew. I just knew.

  “Gia. Hold on a second.” I lowered the phone from my ear, but I didn’t hang up. “Tell me. Just tell me. Please.”

  His mouth shook. “God, Taylor, I fucking hate this. Fucking hate this shit. Okay.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Got a call this morning from the cops in town. They’d been at a motel . . . someone from the housekeeping staff found him. Found Matt. He’d left a note, and he’d asked them to call me, not you.” His face crumbled. “The fucker didn’t want you to find out from the police. Goddamn. He knew I’d come to you.”

  “What did he do?” I couldn’t speak above a whisper.

  “Pills. He took a shit load of pills, the cops think probably last night. By the time the housekeeper found him, he was . . . he was long gone, son. Cold. Nothing they could do.”

  “Did they try? Did they even fucking try to bring him back?” I was shouting. “Or did they throw him away, write him off like everyone else fucking did?”

  “Leo, it was too late. He’s dead. Matt . . . he was a tortured soul, son. We did everything we could to help him, but sometimes—”

  “No, we fucking did not.” I was wild now, ranting. “It was just easier to cut him, to toss him off the team, to say he was a loser, a fuck-up and no one even tried—”

  A noise from the phone next to me caught my attention. I’d forgotten about Gia for a minute, but now I heard her cries. With a shaking hand, I raised the phone again.

  “Gia. He’s gone. He fucking committed suicide.”

  On the other end, she was emitting a sound I hadn’t heard for a long time. Not since the morning after Quinn’s father had been killed. The keening, anguished noise ripped out what was left of my heart.

  “Leo?” As if I had summoned her by my thoughts, Quinn’s voice floated over the phone. “God, is it true? Matt?”

  “Yeah.” A sob wracked me. “Tell Gia . . . tell her I’m going to take care of everything. Tell her I’m bringing Matt home.”

  Matt Lampert had never been much of a planner, but he’d managed his suicide with a precision that would’ve changed his life, had he applied it there. He’d cleaned his room, as I’d noticed, and when I opened his closet, I’d found his clothes bagged. In his duffel bag were all the personal items that might mean something to me, to his grandparents and to Gia.

  At the motel room where he’d ended his life, the police had found only two notes. The first was the one Coach had referenced, a polite missive requesting that the authorities notify Coach Demby, who would then know how to proceed.

  The second note was a piece of paper with Gia’s name written on top, and it had only two words on it.

  I’m sorry.

  The coach had offered to help me with anything I needed, but I tried to do everything myself. I owed that much to Matt. I called his grandparents and broke the news, and with their guidance, I made arrangements for Matt’s body to be cremated locally.

  And then I brought him home.

  Matt’s memorial service took place on a beautiful April morning, one of those days with clear blue skies, bright sunshine and soft breezes. His grandparents were members of the Episcopal church in town, so that was where they held the service. The sanctuary wasn’t big enough to hold everyone who came, so they had to broadcast the priest’s words outside, where the overflow sat on folding chairs on the church lawn.

  I sat in the front row next to Gia. Her face was pale, and her eyes were hollow. Quinn had whispered to me earlier that Gia was on some kind of medicine to keep her calm, because she’d been hysterical for hours. She looked a little like a zombie, and every time we had to change position—there was a lot of kneeling, standing and sitting in the funeral liturgy—her eyes darted to me in panic, mutely asking me what she was supposed to do next.

  As if I was supposed to know.

  Matt’s grandparents sat closest to the aisle. They were stoic, although his grandmother dabbed at her eyes now and then.

  Quinn sat on Gia’s other side, holding her hand tightly. When I’d seen her a few days before, she’d hugged me tight, and holding her was the first good thing I’d done in over a week. I hadn’t wanted to let her go, but I was conscious of our new situation. The girl I held wasn’t mine anymore. She belonged to Nate, and the small gold ring on her left hand reminded me of that fact.

  The service ended, and we all shuffled out of the church. Classmates from high school whom I hadn’t seen in almost four years grabbed my arm and embraced me, weeping softly. I heard murmurs among a few teachers who’d come about waste of potential, and I wanted to smack each and every one of them.

  Of course Matt had wasted his potential, but he’d begun down that trail long before he’d taken that fatal dose of pills. It had started back in high school, maybe even earlier. And none of the people who were crying or talking had done a damn thing to stop him.

  Just beyond the boundary of the church’s grass, the police were holding back a small knot of reporters who were covering the tragedy that was Matt Lampert’s life and death. My lip curled in derision. Fucking vultures.

  “Can I catch a ride over to the Lamperts’ house with you and Gia?” Quinn laid her hand on my arm. “I don’t want to be by myself right now.”

  “Sure.” I cleared my throat. “Surprised Nate didn’t come.”

  Quinn’s eyes shuttered. “He can’t be in crowds. His immune system is so damaged right now that he could pick up anything.”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry. I can’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that our friends are dying off when we’re only twenty-two.”

  She winced, and I felt like shit for what I’d said.

  “Come on. My car’s over here. Let’s go.”

  I hadn’t been back in Eatonboro at this time of year for a long time. We drove the short distance from the church to Matt’s grandparents’ house in a silence that was only broken by Quinn’s soft assurances to Gia, who stared unseeing out the window.

  The huge house was already filled with people when we arrived, and I realized a good many of them hadn’t bothered to come to the church. That pissed me off; they didn’t care enough to pay their respects to Matt’s memory, but they were willing to kiss up to his wealthy and influential grandparents. Fucking idiots.

  Quinn and I settled Gia on a chair in the study, where it was quiet. She leaned against the side of it, sighed and closed her eyes. Within a few moments, I could tell she was out.

  “The meds make her sleepy.” Quinn rubbed her hands together, her forehead furrowed as she watched her friend. “I think I’ll just stay in here and keep my eye on her. If she wakes up and doesn’t know where she is, she’ll freak out.”

  I sat down next to Quinn. “I’ll keep you company.”

  She smiled. “You don’t have to. There are probably a lot of people who want to catch up with you. I saw your parents were at the church, too. That was nice of them to come.”

  “They loved Matt. I think my mom feels bad that she wasn’t more proactive in his life when we were younger. She didn’t want to interfere with his grandparents, but God. No one did. If someone had, maybe we wouldn’t be here today.”

  “Matt made his own choices, Leo.” Quinn’s voice was weary. “You were a wonderful friend to him, always. And he had this enormous potential, so much going for him, but he took a different path. No one is to blame for that.”

  “I know that in the rational part of my brain. But then there’s that voice that keeps telling me there was more I could’ve done. Why did I go out that night? I needed to blow off steam, and I was . . .” My eyes slid to Quinn’s left hand. “Still dealing with a lot of my own shit. But I should’ve realized he needed me. I let him slide down, and I just shook my head and thought, that’s Matt.”

  “He didn’t make it easy to help him. Please, Leo. Don’t take the blame for this, okay? Don’t let it drag you down, too. Matt wouldn’t want t
hat. You’ve got so much coming up—the draft is in ten days, and your whole future is wide open. Don’t lose sight of that.”

  I laughed, but there wasn’t a speck of humor in it. “My future, huh? It doesn’t feel that bright and shiny, Mia.” I used her special name for the first time since the day she’d left me in Carolina. “All I ever wanted was to play football and be with you. One I’m going to get, but it came at the expense of losing the other.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of her chair. “Leo, please don’t. We’ve been over this so many times. I can be your friend, but that’s all. I can’t, and I won’t, compete with football, and I can’t deal with the stress of being the Lion’s girlfriend. I still get the occasional hate message, you know? And I know I can’t handle it.”

  I reached into her lap and gripped both of her hands in mine. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Mia. I’m about to graduate. I’m going to sign with—well, I’m not going to say and jinx it, but after the draft, things are going to change. You wouldn’t be the Lion’s girlfriend. You’d be my wife.”

  Her eyes flew open, and she stared at me, surprise and pain mingled there. “Leo, don’t. Please don’t. You know I can’t. I promised Nate, and I won’t go back on that. I can’t.”

  “Quinn, you’re making a huge mistake. You don’t love him. Not like you love me. You and Nate don’t have what we do. We’re meant to be, babe. We’ve always said it, and we’ve always known it. What the hell happened?”

  “Life happened, Leo. And football happened. I never said that I don’t love you. You know I do. You know this kills me, too. But this . . . being married to me . . . it’s all Nate wants. It’s his last wish, really. Am I going to deny him that, when it’s in my power to say yes?”

  “So you’ll ruin your life to make his dream come true?” I hunched over, lowering my voice. “Quinn, did you ever think, what’re you going to do if Nate doesn’t die? What if you’re stuck in this marriage?”