Forever Love

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by Chelsea Landon


  Alexa kisses his face, crying, holding him the best she can. “Steven! Please come back to me!” She screams, again, it makes my blood run cold, a stop your heart from beating scream as the life she’s holding in her hands lets go.

  I leave my shirt compressing his wounds. I can’t let go. Maybe there’s a chance.

  Maybe.

  Over my shoulder, my eyes go to Madison, and then to the ring I’m holding in my bloody hand. I have to brace myself against the car, my heart is beating so fast. One day ruined forever.

  Three cars stop, their passengers running to help, asking each one of us if we’re fine. An older couple is with the girls, a woman is asking me questions and three more are with Alexa and a man sitting beside Landon.

  The sirens get closer and the streets fill with lights and shouts. My eyes scan around the scene but I can’t focus on any one thing. It’s overwhelming.

  It’s crushing.

  It’s gone.

  It’s devastating and nothing will ever be the same. Every plan I’ve ever had for my future is over in a second. I need to move, but I can’t. One moment we’re celebrating, the next, we weren’t.

  Forever is gone.

  Three Years Later

  September 18, 2013

  I hate my classes. I’m also failing each one so that might be why I hate them so much.

  I can never focus, and it’s not always because of school. My social life factors heavily into the equation.

  Or maybe it’s the substances I turn to that allows me to cope.

  I met Jay Lucas my freshman year. Landon introduced me to him. He’s small time dime bag shit but if you wanted the heavy, he provided it. I mostly stuck to just smoking but there were times when I wanted more. I wanted the feeling of the numbness I craved. And after a while, I did crave it more than I should. And now I’m wrapped up with a drug dealer. He provides that heavy I spoke of and he doesn’t charge me, as long as I give a little in return.

  People don’t just up and decide to be sad. It doesn’t work that way. It happens over time. A slow progression like the changing of seasons. Some can control how they deal, others can’t. Coping in his or her own way becomes inevitable.

  When Steven died, it was weeks, even months when the sadness hit. I’d wake up in the morning and think to myself, just smile. And when I couldn’t, when I couldn’t find a reason, I couldn’t understand why people tried to force me to.

  Why couldn’t I appreciate what I have and ignore that pain?

  I’ll tell you why.

  It feels wrong.

  It feels like if I was happy, I was neglecting what happened and that it wasn’t my fault.

  It was.

  Landon and I were lucky we weren’t charged with murder. Because that’s what it felt like. Murder. No one was charged with anything once the toxicology reports came back that Steven had absolutely no alcohol in his system. They never did any further investigating into the accident and I can only assume it was because of who was in the car, and the fact that the guy who we hit was not only drunk, but wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.

  Landon admitted to dropping the joint in the car and it caused Steven to swerve. But they couldn’t confirm whether or not the driver of the truck we hit didn’t come into our lane as well.

  Steven’s parents never pushed the issue either, though they had every right to. They were more saddened by the fact that they lost their youngest son, not in the details of how he died. Some things are best left to the unknown.

  The NCAA looked into the accident and decided to allow Cash and Landon to retain their scholarships because they weren’t driving.

  Some would have thought I would have learned from that night. Been thankful to be alive.

  No. I wasn’t. It should have been me, not a kid with a promising career ahead of him just off a high school football championship.

  When time came for me to go to college, I didn’t want to go. I felt like I shouldn’t have been the one to go. Unfortunately my parents pushed me to go. Alexa’s parents did too.

  Now here we all were at The University of Oregon. Trying to resemble some semblance of normal, to pretend our lives were just like every other person here when there was nothing farther from the truth.

  I look at Alexa nowadays, when I do catch glimpses of her on campus and it just makes me hurt that much more. Her happiness is gone because we were stupid. We should have waited to party at the beach but we didn’t. That’s on me. It’s on Landon. So I get high to forget.

  What I felt responsible for was that I was drunk. And high. And I fell on Steven when I should have been buckled up in the backseat.

  Not a day goes by that I don’t feel like his life ended because of me.

  The rest of senior year after the accident, I turned to what made me forget. A mind-numbing high. I’ve smoked pot since I was sixteen. My first time was with Landon, it kind of became our bond together. I didn’t do it to be cool. I did it for the feeling it gave me. The euphoria. I continued through high school and it didn’t become a need until that December night. Then it became more than a need, it became a want because I wanted to forget everything.

  When I get to my Cognitive Psychology class, I sit on the far left of the classroom near the windows where I can see the leaves beginning to fall over the bright green grass with specs of brown, yellow and red. It’s rare I’m at this eight AM class. Unfortunately I needed this class and it was only offered at the ass crack of dawn.

  I had to declare a major eventually and it wasn’t until I was using cocaine on a regular basis just to pass classes that I got interested in psychology and how the brain works. What interests me about the human brain was why we remember certain parts of our lives and why we purposely forget others. I can’t tell you much about the night Steven died. All I remember was right before the accident and the joint in my hand. I remember handing it to Landon and falling on Steven’s shoulder.

  That’s it.

  I know there’s more to the night. I see it in my dreams but to actually remember every minute detail, I don’t. Why does my brain block out those parts of that night?

  Naturally I chose psychology because of that. Soon after I declared my major, Landon did too. We were still really good friends and he thought I’d help him study.

  “Hey, Madison.” Jet says, bumping my shoulder as he sits next to me.

  He thinks I’m going to remember what we did the other night. The truth is, I don’t. It’s not like I get high for the fun of it. It’s not entertainment to me like it is to these guys. It’s about forgetting and getting outside of my fucked up mind for a little while.

  Sometimes that’s not easy either.

  “Hey, Jet.” He gives me that look, the one that’s begging for a repeat. He’s a tight end for the Oregon Ducks and parties just as hard as the other players. At least more than Cash does. I’ve seen Cash at parties a handful of times but never that often. He’s more focused and reserved.

  “Wanna get some dinner tonight?”

  He’s bold.

  They all are.

  They want something from me and it’s certainly not my company.

  “No.” I reply immediately, hoping he gets the fucking hint.

  He looks at me, smiling. He didn’t get the hint.

  “Okay then.” He says with a sardonic lift of his brows.

  “I can’t tonight.” I say feeling the need to explain a little. Just a little.

  “You sure?” His brow lifts higher.

  I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure, dumb ass.

  “I’m sure.”

  My classes thankfully pass with ease. Ninety percent of what’s said I won’t remember later. Half these classes I have right now I’ve taken already but am forced to take again because I didn’t pass the first time.

  As I’m walking through campus, I see Landon and Macy walking, holding hands. They’re still together even after everything that’s happened. I can’t say the same for Cash and me. After the accident we drif
ted apart.

  Landon smiles and gives me a wink when he sees me walking toward them. Macy, nothing. She’s my twin sister and she acts like I’m not even alive.

  Macy hasn’t spoken a word to me since prom and I can’t blame her. It is heartbreaking. Our parents came up for our birthday this year and it was awful because they tried to make us talk. They might as well have been trying to rip Macy’s hair out. She wouldn’t even look at me. Granted I was high just to get through the night, but still she didn’t say a single word to me. I’ve tried to talk to her but she walks away like I’m not even breathing. I bet she wishes I wasn’t.

  I never go home during the summers, mostly because of her. Since we left that small town of Canby three years ago, I know there will be a time when I have to return. But it won’t be easy.

  Cash has been back since we left. He spends the summers working with his dad for a few weeks and then it’s off to football camp. Macy’s been back too but me? No. I haven’t. I’m usually taking summer classes because I can never seem to pass a class the first time. At the rate I was going, I would be lucky if I could graduate in ten years if they didn’t kick me out of school before then.

  I’m sure it’s not that bad, but I have failed quite a few classes due to my lack of attendance.

  I’m outside my last class for the afternoon and digging through my purse for the baggie I know is in there. After double checking it’s there, I head back inside and try like hell not to fall asleep in this class like I did last week.

  After class, I go back to my dorm and take a nap since I can never seem to relax during the day. My phone buzzing wakes me up. I ignore it but wake up anyway. The sky’s black now, night taking over and I find myself wandering campus getting some fresh air. I do this a lot. Another way to relax and wind down. Another attempt at a coping mechanism that fails.

  When I’m in the parking lot I see Landon’s black truck. It’s parked where it’s usually parked, away from where campus security hangs out.

  They’ll never bother him because of his status here but he’s still cautious.

  After prom, Landon and I never touched each other again. Well, we kissed, when completely sober and decided we didn’t have feelings for each other. It was for the better because that’s what destroyed my relationship with Macy to begin with.

  I tap lightly on the window, he gives me a nod to get in. When I do, we sit in silence after I ask about Macy and he asks about Cash. Then he’s staring at my arms and the bruises that cover them.

  “He’s bad news, Madison.” Landon says, bloodshot eyes wandering to mine, fumes filling the cab. “Stay away from him.”

  I know Jay Lucas is bad news. But I don’t have a choice anymore. I’ve gotten myself in pretty deep with him and it’s not like I can just tell him to leave me alone. A guy like Jay wouldn’t listen to me.

  “I know.” I tell Landon trying to appease him.

  “Do you?” He asks, shifting to lay his hand over the back of my seat.

  “Yeah…”

  “Why are you sleeping with him?”

  I know Landon knows shit about my life that I don’t want him to. He sees things and while he mostly keeps to himself, there are times where he lets me know when I’m in trouble. We’re friends. Probably best friends these days and I know he’s looking out for me. And then there are days when it pisses me off.

  Why does he care?

  He shouldn’t. He has his own problems and his own girl to worry about.

  “Landon…” I sigh and stare out at the cars in the parking lot. I don’t want to look at him because I know the look. A mixture of disgust, sadness, and pity.

  He shakes my seat slightly. “What are you doing, Madison? You’re still sleeping with Cash but yet you’re fucking around with Jay… and Colton… who else?”

  If only I knew. I get drunk and I know I’ve had sex but I’m not sure with who. Thankfully I’m on birth control because there are even times when I know they don’t use anything. It disgusts me that I allow this. That my life is made up of moments that mean absolutely nothing to me, that I can’t even remember, yet I continue on.

  I look at him now. “I don’t need this shit from you, Landon. You’re not any better.”

  “I’m not sleeping around on Macy.” You can’t miss the defensiveness to his tone. There usually is when we talk about Macy, or Cash. Neither one of us want to admit there’s anything wrong. When everything so clearly is.

  “You might as well be.” I stare out the window at the glow around the street light that sits not twenty feet away, an angelic halo comes off of it that has me mesmerized. “How’s Amber? Or what’s that chick’s name you were kissing the other day? Kendra?”

  I turn my head to look at him when he doesn’t answer me.

  Landon rolls his eyes but says nothing more. He knows the truth. He may not be sleeping around with girls but Landon can’t keep his hands off women. He’s always been that way.

  I’m not in the mood for this so I give him a nod and open the door to the truck. When I do, I let the smoke out, it rolls in waves around me as I step outside into the cool crisp fall air. I keep the joint in my hand and walk across the campus, still smoking. I don’t care who sees me. Sure, if campus security sees me I could get in trouble but I bet you ninety percent of the kids at this school smoke.

  The longer I walk, the more my mind drifts. I’ve made a few circles around the building when I find my eyes looking up at Cash’s dorm room. We both have lived in the Global Scholars Hall and have since freshman year. They don’t let you choose the building you’re in freshman year but strangely enough, Cash and I were in the same building along with Macy and Landon. We’re separated by one floor, I’m on the second, he’s on the third. For three years we’ve practically been on top of one another but we’ve never quite been able to get back to where we were.

  When I count over from the far left to find his window, I see that his light is on. I let my mind drift as I inhale and sit down on the concrete bench outside. I kind of feel like a stalker for a half a second.

  Then I remember why I do this. I miss his smell and the warmth of his body. I miss him. It’s hard to say why I can’t let him go. It’s because I have to have the connection.

  We’re not the same anymore.

  After the accident, I was lost in more ways than one. I turned to those I shouldn’t have, destroyed everything and everyone around me by making alliances with the devil.

  Now here I am three years later and I’m still destroying everything. After Steven died, nothing was the same. I’ll be the first to admit a part of me died right beside him on that road. Landon would agree.

  After Steven’s funeral, Cash and I stayed together, until prom. I can’t even say we stayed together and that be entirely true. We were together in the sense that we were swept away just like the shattered glass that caked the street that December night.

  And then I made my life, and his, worse the following spring.

  Our senior prom that year, I decided I was getting high in a broom closet and decided to make everything a lot worse.

  I felt the bass of the hip-hop song pumping in the background as Landon pushed himself from the wall. He was drunk, slow movements and heavy lids, he twisted around and started dancing, shaking his ass to the beat of “Goodies.” I laughed so hard it hurt, but he knew exactly how to make me laugh. We had a dance-off in the janitor’s closet, all the while, forgetting forever. Fuck forever. I didn’t want to think about forever. At least not right then.

  We’re right now.

  I shook my hips, my ass, and Landon watched. His eyes low, hooded but cold, marred by misery. There was some amusement there, captured by an innocence he was afraid to let anyone see anymore. Anyone but me. I saw it because he’s comfortable. He knew I never judged him.

  Landon stepped forward, his left hand reached out to touch my hips as I moved. It was a tentative touch, unsure, but it’s still there and shocking. Landon didn’t touch me like that. There was
something in the way he watched me that should have warned me.

  As the song changed, his head bent, his ear pressed to my cheek. My head twisted at the same time his did. He paused, another unsure moment, and then he moved his lips against mine, urgent and needing pulling my lower lip into his mouth. I gasped, trying to figure out what was happening when Landon let out this low rumble of a groan. His consuming kiss was warm and tasted of smoke and whiskey. Shocked at first I lost my bearings when his tongue moved against mine. He grunted, pushing me with his strong body against the wall. Every inch of him was in line with me. I moved slightly, parting my legs as one of his moved between mine, his thigh against my center. It was a touch I craved from anyone and I wanted so badly to feel that sensation without the words I knew might come, “Are you okay?” but in my pain-filled heart I knew that he wasn’t going to ask that. He didn’t care.

  He groaned and pushed against me again, backing me up against the wall, his hands moving to my ass and raising me up so my legs were spread. Pressing forward, his erection dug into me. That time we both gasped, my hands flew to his chest tugging at his tie and white dress shirt wanting the unspoken closeness he was providing. He helped me out, eyes so dark they looked like shadows, red cherry lips and flushed cheeks captured my gaze.

  We were dying.

  This is what dying feels like. I was sure of it.

  We were not thinking. I couldn’t. He couldn’t. Right now, we were reacting.

  Landon swayed, his movements slow, his bare chest pressed against mine, his hands pawed at my dress. I heard the rip as the slits draping my thighs tear and the top was torn away by impatient hands needing the thrill. We swayed because we were fading. We weren’t even in our minds.

  “I have a condom… ” he whispered, gasping for breath, his mouth never leaving mine.

  I didn’t say a word, but my body began to tremble.

  Stop him. You’ll ruin him. You’ll ruin her.

  Sometimes I do wonder if Alexa hadn’t come in what could have been. But then again, I’m glad she did. I’m sure—had Landon and I had sex—there would have been no chance at repairing anything. Call me crazy but I sometimes get the feeling that someday maybe we can all repair this. All of us.

 

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