Catching Fireflies

by Terri E. Laine

  Brie and I snickered once she disappeared.

  “I kept you longer than I should have. I guess I should go so you can finish your paper,” I said.

  “We should act like responsible adults.”

  She walked me the few steps to the door and leaned against it. I handed her the jar.

  “Can I bring you breakfast in the morning?”

  It was something I hadn’t done in a while because I had to be on time to class. Her head shook.

  “I’ve taken your advice and I’ve been going to breakfast with Lenora in the mornings. But tomorrow morning I have the hearing.”

  “Hearing?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t tell you about it earlier because we were forgetting all the shit, right?”

  I didn’t like it, but I understood.

  “Should I come?”

  “No, they didn’t ask for you. But I’m going with the plan. You said I could use your social media accounts as evidence if I have to.”

  I nodded.

  “So it starts at eight, but I’m meeting the lawyer at seven since we haven’t had a chance to meet yet.”

  “Can I call you in the morning and wish you luck?”

  “It’s going to be an early start for us both. And you get up way earlier than I do. Your text might wake me up. And I’ll want to sleep in as long as I can. So I’ll call you later tomorrow when it’s over.”

  “Okay.”

  Again, the idea of not communicating with her, knowing she had this shit looming over her, bothered me. But it was what she wanted.

  “I know I said no more talk of Davenport, but I should tell you I had a run-in with him today.”

  I stood straighter, ready to spring into action.

  “Again, I didn’t want to bring him up, but I also don’t want you to think I’m hiding anything from you.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing really, don’t worry. I had the last laugh. He wanted to know what I might say tomorrow that could affect him, not that I blame him. I told him I planned to tell the truth. And that was it. Nothing else.”

  I put my hand on her cheek. “And you’re okay?”

  She nodded. I kissed her goodbye, not wanting to leave. But her roommate was back. I left feeling like there was more I could do to help. I folded my hands behind my head. We had to trust each other. If she needed me, she’d let me know.

  Morning practice sucked. My head wasn’t there. All I could think about was Brie, and I paid for it. The plays I ran sucked, and Coach put my backup in and made me run stairs, where my legs burned.

  “Abbott,” Coach called. I thought for sure he would make me do more because at that point what I called running that day was barely faster than a steady walk. He also called for Kelley.

  I made myself jog even though I didn’t know how I was even walking.

  “There is a call for you.”

  Coach handed me his cell phone. For someone to track me down at practice, it couldn’t be good. Was I being summoned to the hearing for Brie?

  “Hello?” I said into the receiver.

  What was said on the other end felt like a wrecking ball hit me.

  After a fitful night’s sleep, I got up and caught sight of the jar. The little buggers weren’t lighting up. I wasn’t sure if they should in the daytime. But I feared for them. After showering and getting ready for the day, I headed out early and walked all the way across campus to set them free. I almost called Chance to tell him what I was doing, but I knew he was at practice. So I texted him. The unexpected trip made me a few minutes late to meeting the lawyer.

  The man looked more like an accountant. He wore glasses and an ill-fitting suit. But who was I to judge.

  He introduced himself and said, “We don’t have a lot of time, so let’s get down to business. Why don’t you tell me in your words what happened.”

  We met at a small mom and pop café just off campus where I told him everything.

  “This isn’t a trial. You won’t go to jail for perjury, not that I suggest you lie. I think you should steer the line of questioning and this is how,” he coached.

  By the end of our time, I was highly impressed. He gave me pointers on how to lead the questioners. He even made a joke about leading the witness. I smiled but didn’t quite laugh.

  Five minutes before, we made it to the room where the hearing would be held. Davenport was there, pacing. He didn’t have anyone with him, and part of me wanted to feel sorry for him. But I didn’t.

  Once I was called, we entered a room that wasn’t auditorium style with stadium-like seating as most of the classrooms. It was just a larger flat room. A row of tables was lined up in front and a couple of chairs faced them. My lawyer and I sat there.

  The dean introduced the panel and the nature of the inquiry. I was asked to tell the truth and the key to bending things my way was that I was asked. The first questions were the basic variety: who I was, what my major was, and if I knew whom Craig Davenport was, etc.

  The dean led the questioning.

  “Were you and Craig Davenport dating?” she finally asked.

  “I wouldn’t call it that,” I began. “We hung out.”

  “Hung out?” the dean repeated.

  I nodded. “We never labeled anything we did. We never kissed or fooled around. He was a friend, or so I thought.”

  “You went out with a man, one-on-one, but it wasn’t a date?”

  “Like I said, he was a friend. I was seeing someone else. When Davenport attempted to change the rules of our friendship by trying to kiss me, I told him I had someone. That’s when he preceded to tell me that I was his ‘project’ and I wasted his time while his girlfriend was upset with him.”

  “So, he had a girlfriend and you had a boyfriend?”

  “I cannot vouch for him. I can say that’s what he told me. And I was seeing someone else. In fact, the guy I was seeing posted selfies of us out during this time on social media.”

  She arched a brow, and one of the other professors on the panel chimed in, “It’s true. After the claims, we had someone do a web search before we contacted them. Neither had pictures of each other on any of their social media accounts.”

  The dean had a quick reply, “Well, if they knew it was to be kept secret, they wouldn’t necessarily post pictures.”

  Her statement pissed me off. “For the record, I’m a virgin. Remember his project? I don’t go around seeing random guys. I have copies of the posts my boyfriend posted on his account, and they are date stamped.”

  My lawyer stood and took the color copies I’d printed and handed them the bundle. The dean flipped through before passing it along.

  “So, you are denying that you were in a romantic relationship with Mr. Davenport?”

  “I’m saying that to think men and women can’t be friends without messing around is ludicrous.”

  The dean paused and broodingly nodded at me. “Did the two of you ever discuss class or upcoming tests?”

  “No.”

  “But you said yourself you were his project. Did you ever discuss your virginity?”

  Damn, she had me there.

  “It came up.”

  “And you think that talking to a guy about your virginity is a topic most friends only talk about?”

  “I admitted my virginity during one of the lectures in class, so it wasn’t weird for him to bring it up.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t talk about anything related to class?”

  I’d been cornered. My lawyer tried to save me by cutting in before I said anything more condemning. And the questioning ended shortly after. I was told that I should report back tomorrow for possible follow-up questions.

  The hearing left me shaken. The idea that I might be kicked out of school scared the shit out of me. Something I hadn’t thought possible when I started going out with Davenport. It had been intoxicatingly forbidden. As it stood, it could be the end of everything.

  My first action was to text Chance. Afte
r no immediate response, I ducked into my next class, trying to remain optimistic that things would work out.

  The rest of the day, I received no response from Chance. Was he pissed that I’d asked him not to call me today. Immediately, I tossed that thought out. He wasn’t spiteful. Maybe he didn’t get it. His phone could have died. There had to be an explanation.

  After all my classes, I ended up at Chance’s place. Lenora was busy, so I waited on the couch.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I answered it so fast hoping it was Chance, I didn’t even look.

  “Brie Berry,” my sister said.

  “Brenda. How’s my niece?”

  She was still in the NICU and wasn’t expected to leave until closer to the holidays.

  “Getting bigger and stronger. How did things go today?”

  “Okay, though I’m not sure.”

  “Can I ask you something serious?”

  “Sure,” I said, a little nervous.

  “No one thinks that you were using this boy to get better grades, but what made you do it?”

  I let the pause linger. But only because I needed that moment to resolve to tell the truth.

  “Honestly, it wasn’t about that guy. I was running away from my feelings for someone else.”

  My sister, as smart as she was, asked the right question, “The boyfriend?”

  “Yes. I wanted to forget my feelings for him.”

  “And now you’ve decided to go back to him?”

  “He wasn’t a bad guy. And he’s done everything to win me back.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Yes.” The word slipped easier out of my mouth than I thought.

  “Tell me about him.”

  “He plays on the football team, and he’s not some stupid guy. He’s really smart.”

  “Is he pre-med?”

  I sighed. “No. He’s an electrical engineering major.” I waited for the disapproval because everyone in my family was a doctor of some type.

  My sister had even married a doctor. My brother had, too, though she’d given up her career to become a stay-at-home mom. My parents had thought it a bit harsh, but eventually accepted her decision as if it were theirs to make.

  “Good for you, little sister.”

  “What?” Her response had shocked me so.

  “It’s about time you live your own life.”

  “But—”

  Brenda seemed to understand.

  “I envy you. And I can’t wait to meet this guy. But I have to go.”

  “Kiss my nephew and niece for me,” I said before we hung up.

  The gang all walked in. Lenora came in from the back, and Sawyer and Ashton walked in from the front, which was strange in and of itself. All wore grim expressions.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You don’t know?” Sawyer asked, then focused behind me on Lenora.

  “Don’t look at me. I’ve been taking care of Mason. He isn’t feeling well.”

  Ashton darted by. My guess was he was going to check on Mason.

  Family ran deep with everyone. And they had begun to include me because I was Chance’s.

  “Brie, have you talked to Chance at all today?”

  I turned to look at Lenora over my shoulder.

  “No, I’ve been trying to reach him with no response.”

  “That’s because he left his phone,” Sawyer said.

  I whipped around, starting to get angry that they knew something I didn’t.

  “Why would he do that?” I asked.

  “He and Kelley left almost straight away after getting the call. Kelley had to get his keys. But I guess Chance wasn’t thinking right and left his phone.”

  “What call?” I asked, irritated.

  “His dad,” Sawyer said. “They called him about his dad.”

  The ride was a blur. Almost two hours had gone by. I was sure Kelley had talked to me, and I probably talked back, but I couldn’t remember any of it.

  All I could think about was what if. How many times had those words circled in my head? When the truck finally came to a stop, I glanced up at the hospital doors with a prayer in my heart, yet unspoken from my lips.

  Kelley, my brother in all ways that mattered, was there to help me through this. We tore through the doors. Kelley asked someone for directions, and then we were off again. Our cleats were soundless on the tile floor. Either that or I was so far in my head, sound was meaningless.

  When the elevator didn’t come seconds after we pressed the button, Kelley led me to a stairwell as if he’d been to this hospital before. We ran the three stories like Coach was on our heels. We barreled through a door, only to meet a set that was locked.

  A woman asked us to state our business from an intercom on the wall. I wasn’t able to speak, so Kelley again came through. The doors parted, and I searched around, not having heard what the woman said.

  “That way.”

  Everything changed as if I were in a movie with dramatic music playing in the background. Alarms began to blare. It just couldn’t be. But I followed the people in the scrubs.

  They piled into a room as I came to a stop five feet away. I couldn’t see. It was like the chaos captured my focus, and I couldn’t look away.

  I heard Kelley ask the nurse at the desk I’d passed what room my father was in.

  The sounds in the room soon faded away. The long steady beeping was shut off seconds later. Somber faces began to exit the room. That was when I saw.

  I hadn’t cried since my mother left, but tears fell from my eyes like I had an endless supply of water. My knees buckled from the gravity of what had happened. It took strength of will and my best friend to help me forward into the room.

  His hand was still warm, and it looked as though he was sleeping. Shuffling feet preceded the silence. There was so much still unsaid, and unfairly he’d been taken away from me before I could tell him how much he meant to me. How much I still thought he was my hero despite his fall into despair, but maybe because of it. As hurt as he was, he’d soldiered on, trying his best to be a good father.

  “No one is perfect, Dad. And through your imperfection, the weight of how much you loved me showed. I only wish I could have been a better son…”

  What I would have given for him to have squeezed my hand. Anything, as long as I knew he heard me.

  As I stood there, hand in hand with my father, I remembered all the times he graced me with his smile, encouraging words, and silent moments of understanding.

  The little boy in me remembered when he played ball with me, just us. I remembered all those times he cheered me on in the stands. A choked sound filled the room as I took in the fact that I was only left with those memories.

  Regret and guilt stood next to me. I shouldn’t have left him. If only I’d been there to make sure he took care of himself, he would still be alive. If he hadn’t been in that facility and at home with me, I might have noticed he was in medical distress sooner. Then maybe…

  Time was my enemy. It felt far too soon when Kelley came in with a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. They are wondering if they can move him.”

  Dad’s hand had gone cold some time ago. I squeezed it one last time. I’m sorry, Dad.

  Stepping back, I watched as techs came in and shifted him onto a different gurney. I hated how vulnerable he looked in death. My strong father was broken by one woman. I hated her so very much.

  People spoke to me about funeral homes. Kelley stepped in and deflected them.

  “We’ll get back to you.”

  A lot of I’m sorry for your loss was thrown my way. Dutifully, I nodded. It was instinct as my mind traveled down the path of wondering how I would deal with not being able to speak to my father again.

  A bag that inadequately represented my father’s belongings was handed to me. But that bag didn’t hold the most important thing my dad had, and that was me. The place he’d been staying at hadn’t held hope for his survival and sent everything with a represe
ntative to the hospital who tried to talk to me. I had no words and wondered if I ever would again.

  Kelley drove me home. I had to go through Dad’s bag to find the keys. I opened the door to the house I’d grown up in, and it felt so small. It took me long moments before I could even walk through the door. Kelley didn’t rush me either. Out of everyone I knew, he understood.

  My mind had only been able to work on small tasks like opening the door, walking inside. My next mission was to put Dad’s things away. He was a tidy man, so I walked to his door and hesitated with a hand on the knob. At some point, I turned it and walked inside.

  On every surface were framed pictures of our family, of her…

  No wonder he couldn’t get over his grief. Although I’d been in there before, I saw his room through different eyes.

  A part of me wanted to destroy every picture of my mother. She’d taken enough from me and stole the joy from my father. I didn’t want her to spoil the memories that belonged to just him and me.

  My next task was to get out of my sweaty practice clothes. I spent an interminable amount of time in the shower. My face was wet from water or maybe tears as my chest constricted. I tried to cling to the knowledge that I could breathe even though it felt like I couldn’t. I leaned my head against the tile and wept.

  After leaving my father’s tiny adjoined bathroom, I didn’t go to my room. I pulled clothes from Dad’s drawers. We were nearly the same size. And well, he wouldn’t need them…

  I collapsed on the edge of his bed after getting dressed and struggled with what to do next. Funeral arrangements needed to be made. What would happen to the house?

  It could be my last days in my childhood home. How did I feel about that?

  Closing my eyes, I prayed I would wake from the nightmare that was my life.

  When I opened them again, she was there, standing in the doorway with red-rimmed eyes.

  “Chance,” she whispered.

  Then she was there wrapping her arms around me. I buried my face in her hair. She just held me, saying nothing more. How she could possibly know that was exactly what I needed. Then again, she would never judge my breakdown.

  Her tears mingled with mine as I clung to her. She was all I had left in the world. And oh how my life wouldn’t make sense without her.