Beneath Our Faults

by Charity Ferrell

  "Eh," Keegan said, maneuvering lanes and honking at the car in front of us.

  You don't like snow?" I questioned, incredulously. "If you don't then you have major problems. Everybody loves the snow."

  "I never said I didn't like the snow. Don't go putting words in my mouth," he smiled. "I'm a fan of snow when I'm on a ski trip or vacation, shit like that. What I don't like is snow when I am in a hurry and have to drive down the interstate with fucking morons."

  He had a point there. Everyone was driving under the speed limit like it was the first time they had ever seen snow. "We usually don't get too much snow in Atlanta," he explained, and the huge wipers on the windshield squeaking back and forth. "You guys get this shit a lot back home?"

  "Usually.”

  "Then you are coming this year with us to the cabin on New Year’s.”

  "Huh?"

  "We are all going to Lane's parent's place in the Smoky Mountains for New Years this year. You like the snow, so you're going."

  "Eh, I think I might have something going on." I definitely had nothing going on.

  "Don't lie. I know you think you are too sad to have fun and shit but that is what's going to help you. You don't need to sit up in your damn room all the time."

  "I'm not sad.”

  "You are,” he said, shaking his head. His hand swept into the glove compartment, pulling out an iPod and handing it over to me. "Let's play a game." I wanted to play a game like I wanted a bullet to the head.

  "I'm not really in the mood to play a game," I informed him, squirming in my seat. I wasn't trying to sound unappreciative of the fact he was driving me thousands of miles to go see my friend, but it just wasn't the idea of fun to me at the time.

  "It's an easy game, really. We both pick a song that reminds us one of one another. I promise we won't giggle together or have more fun than you can handle."

  "Fine. But you have to go first."

  "Got it," he called out, turning the volume knob on the radio. A song I'd never heard before began to spill out of the every speaker in the car. I tucked a strand of hair back letting the lyrics soak me in.

  "What song is this?" I asked.

  "It's called Let Her Cry by Hootie and The Blowfish."

  I nodded, letting the words speak to me. It was like they climbed into my brain, captured every thought running through it and chose that song about their discovery. I was this song's muse.

  "Do you like it?" He asked, studying me.

  I swallowed. "I do."

  He smiled. "This is one of my favorite songs."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know, it just is," he shrugged. "It used to remind me of my mom but now, I think of you."

  "Okay, that's weird.”

  "What? You're broken."

  "I am not broken," I insisted.

  "We have already gone over this. You are a sad and broken, but there is hope for you. I see that sweet little smile of yours peek its way out sometimes and it's beautiful."

  "Oh," was the only word my speechless brain could muster out.

  "Now it's your turn," he said, holding out his iPod for me again.

  "No more games," I whispered, talking about more than the music.

  "No more games," he said, repeating my same words and turning off his iPod. "So do you know why your friend did it?"

  "I'm not exactly sure," I fibbed, not wanting him to know the truth. "I know she had been having a rough time lately and I wasn't there for her."

  "People have to worry about themselves sometimes before they can help others," is all he said before turning the radio on. We both quit talking.

  WE PULLED into the same hospital I was born at. The same exact place I had my broken leg fixed when a cheerleading stunt went bad and when I caught the flu from Tanner two years ago.

  "You ready to go in?" Keegan asked, shifting the car into park.

  "Let's just go." I swung the door open, stepping out and my feet sunk in a large pile of snow on the ground. I felt the slightest touch of Keegan's hand leaning against the small of my back, following me into the hospital.

  The pungent scent of harsh cleaning chemicals hit me when we walked through the automatic doors. "She's on the second floor," I told him and walked straight to the elevator doors. My mom had informed me they transferred Tessa out of the emergency unit, giving her a personal room a few hours prior. I rubbed my sweating hands against my jeans, then tapped the large number two button on the elevator.

  The place was dead, except for a few random bodies slouched in the uncomfortable looking chairs, scanning the magazines in their hands. Dawson was slumped into a vacant chair, his legs wide open and his head hanging between them. He either hadn't noticed me walk in the room or choose to ignore my presence. I gazed around the room once more, wishing someone else would magically pop up and give me information so I didn't have to ask him. No such luck.

  I sat across from him. "Dawson," I said. Keegan sat in the chair next to me.

  Dawson's head rose up slowly and he huffed when he saw me. "Nice for you to finally show up," he snarled, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair, glaring at me. "And you already have a new boyfriend. That was pretty fucking quick."

  I jumped when the chair next to me flew up, bumping into mine and Keegan exploded out of his chair, moving towards Dawson. "Hey asshole, what the fuck is your problem?" He hissed, his hands clenching into fists.

  Every single pair of eyes was now glued to the chaotic scene happening before me.

  "Dude, I have no problem with you," Dawson grumbled. "Just be careful with this one," his head tilted my way. "She treats people who care about her like fucking shit. I wouldn't even put myself in that predicament if I were you, man. Just giving you a heads up."

  "I'm sorry, Dawson," I whispered. But his words trailed over mine.

  "I don't want your apology. Today isn't about you for once, okay? This is about your best friend and her accident."

  "Accident?" I questioned. "She tried to kill herself. That is not an accident."

  He pulled himself out his chair. "Don't try to talk to her about that shit tonight. If you would have stayed around or at least answered her phone calls, you would understand that Tessa hasn't been in the right state of mind lately, so it was an accident. She's in room two eleven if you want to go see her. If you do, don't fucking upset her more." With that, he walked around Keegan's large frame and shoved open the steel door that led to the stairs.

  "Ex-boyfriend?" Keegan asked, sitting back down.

  "Ex-boyfriend's best friend."

  "Ah. That explains it." He had no idea. "Do I need to worry about the ex showing up here next?"

  "No," I quickly assured him. I saw others in the rooming looking at us, but when my eyes hit them, every single one of them shuffled around, attempting to look preoccupied like they hadn't been watching us.

  "Nosy little shits," Keegan commented, loud enough for them to hear. "You ready to go see your friend?"

  "Yeah, I won't be too long."

  "Take your time. I'll just be reading," he paused, picking up the first magazine on the stack beside us and looking at the cover, "how to find your g-spot." My eyes grew and he held up a Cosmopolitan magazine.

  "I'm sure you have no problem finding that," I replied, rolling my eyes at him.

  "Well, little Daisy, us boys don't have g-spots. But I would be more than happy to help you find yours after I read this article and become very educated on the subject." Psh, that boy probably knew how to give an orgasm when he got pulled out of the womb. Shoot, I almost had an orgasm just rubbing against him.

  "I’m not even going to answer that,” I said, walking away from him.

  My feet squeaked down the long corridor of the hall.. The door to two eleven was open but I didn't know whether to knock or not. My mom never told me if Tessa knew that I was coming.

  "Come in," a tiny voice called out from inside. My body was tense, moving into the room and maneuvering around the long, white curtain that wa
s blocking our view from one another.

  "Hi," I said, in a hoarse whisper. The white, stuffy room was empty of any other visitors. Tessa was seated upright in a small bed, watching the flat screen TV on the wall. IVs were hooked up to each arm and three different machines stood next to her, beeping in sync with one another.

  Easing myself into a chair next to her bed, I looked over at my friend, taking in how different she looked from the last time I saw her. The once cheery face was now sunken in, making her look almost sick. She was skinnier than I remembered, nearly underweight. A large, white bandage was wrapped around her wrist, covering the damage.

  "What happened?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

  She looked away from the TV at me. "I tried to kill myself," she replied, her voice devoid of any emotion. "Obviously."

  "I know that," I swallowed. "But why?" The back of my throat burned waiting on her to tell me I was the reason.

  "I just couldn't deal with it anymore." Her IV covered arm raised up to rub her temples. "It just became too much for me to handle."

  "You couldn't deal with what anymore?" I repeated. "I didn't want to deal with it, either, but you can't just off yourself because you can't deal with real life anymore. That's not how it works."

  She folded her arms around her chest, rolling her eyes. "Whatever.”

  "I'm being serious! There are so many people who love you and it would kill us to lose you, too."

  Her blue eyes flashed with anger. "Screw you Daisy!" Her voice grew louder. "Not everyone can run away from their problems and leave their best friend. I had no one here for me!”

  "I'm sorry," I croaked out, a lump rising in my throat. "That was insensitive of me."

  "For which part?"

  "Everything. For leaving without saying goodbye, ignoring you and for what I just said. I'm sorry." A single tear fell down the side of my face.

  "My twin was gone, then I lost you too," she choked. "My parents are practically catatonic. They just move around like freaking zombies everywhere, refusing to take care of Derrick and me. I just felt so damn alone and I wanted to be with him." Her shoulders dropped as a sob tore out of her chest followed by tears. "I knew he would make me feel better."

  Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. The feeling was too familiar.

  "I know it sounds easier but think of everyone you would hurt if you did that," I replied, trying my best to keep my words sound strong. "Your parents. Your little brother who depends on you. Me."

  "I know," she sighed.

  Our heads turned to the door as a nurse came into view. "Sorry to interrupt, but visiting hours are now over," she said, walking to Tessa's side and checking her vitals.

  "Thank you for coming, Daisy," Tessa whispered. "Even if we only had a few minutes, I was hoping you would."

  "Me too," I swallowed, waving goodbye and walking back out into the cold, deserted hallway.

  I FLIPPED through the pages of the magazine, reading a few lines before skipping over "The Best Advice for Getting Through Your Pap Smear," and instantly became thankful I was not born with a vagina. That shit sounded painful.

  Daisy wandered back into the waiting room in slow motion, her arms hanging slack to her sides and her face empty. She stopped at my chair, looking down at me. "Let's go," she announced, sadness evident in her voice.

  I closed the magazine, tossing it back down on the table. "That was quick," I replied, pulling myself to my feet, out of the uncomfortable chair. "If you want to stay longer, I don't care. I can just chill here longer and learn how to make it through a pap smear. How the hell do you guys even endure that?"

  Her head shook and her ponytail bobbled to each side of her head. "I don't even wanna know why you're reading about pap smears," she said, "but visiting hours are over." With that, she turned around and walked back to the elevators while I followed.

  When I saw her fly out of the lunch room earlier, I knew something was wrong so I followed her. I wanted Daisy to know that she could come to me. I knew what it felt like to feel like you were alone going through all the bullshit and I didn’t want her to suffer through it alone. I had come to terms with my shit, but I didn’t know if she was as strong as I was. That’s why I knew I had to come with her. She didn’t have to hide around a fake smile when she was with me.

  Daisy's hometown was nothing like Atlanta. I was sure the town only had two stoplights it was so small. The roads were dead with snow lining the sidewalks. "You hungry?" I asked, driving under the speed limit on the unplowed roads. In our rush to the hospital, we never stopped and ate anything.

  "No," she answered softly, resting her head against the window. A small circle formed onto the window from her breath. Ignoring her response, I whipped my steering wheel, turning into the first fast food place I saw and drove straight to the drive-thru line.

  "Too bad. You haven't eaten anything all day and I'm not letting you starve on my watch."

  "I can't eat anything right now," she mumbled, keeping her head against the window.

  "Babe, I understand you probably aren't hungry, but you have to force yourself to eat something," I demanded, repeating the same words my aunt used to say when my mom would disappear for weeks.

  "Fine," she groaned, finally looking my way. "I'll have some ice cream." She pulled out a few dollars and held them out my way.

  Ignoring the bills, I tapped my foot on the brake and rolled down my window. I ordered almost everything on the menu. Daisy might not have been hungry but when she smelled all the greasy shit I ordered, her stomach might change her mind.

  The attendant told me my total and I pulled around the side of the building. "Here," Daisy said, shaking the money at me.

  "I got it," I ordered, ignoring the money again.

  A brush of air left her mouth. "No, you drove all the way up here for me, so please just take the damn money."

  "My mom told me to never let a girl pay for her own meal," I lied. My mom never taught me shit.

  She muttered something under her breath and crumbled the money into a ball, setting it in my cup holder. I would find a way to get it back to her later when she wasn't being so cranky. "Where to now?" I asked, after paying for the food and unwrapping one of the five cheeseburgers I ordered.

  "Turn right at the next light and my house is on the end of that street," she guided, dipping her spoon in the sundae and taking a large bite. I obliged, controlling the steering wheel with my leg and shoving the burger down my throat.

  "Right here," she pointed, when we turned down the street. A small, brick house was perched on the corner. I braked, pulling into the uncovered driveway in front of the garage door. It was dark, so I couldn't see much except for the front door with a bright light shining above it.

  We shuffled out of the car, feet in the snow and her dad opened up the door, clad in a full police uniform. I wasn't sure if he had just got off work or if he was trying to convey a message to me. "My Daisy girl," he greeted, engulfing her into his arms.

  "Hi dad," she replied, her voice tiny.

  "Keegan," he said, his voice turning deep. "Thank you for bringing my girl."

  "It was no problem." I dragged my hand through my hair, shaking out the snow.

  "Are you two hungry?" her mom asked, walking into the entry way and giving Daisy a tight hug. "I can whip you guys up something real quick. I'm sure you're starving since you've been on the road for hours."

  "Thanks mom, but we stopped and got something on our way here. We're just tired," she answered for the both of us, yawning.

  I glanced around the room. The best word to describe it was: homey. The living room was flooded with pictures and knickknacks covering the walls, tables, everything. I did a loop, studying the pictures as I passed them. Most of them were of Daisy but my feet skidded to a stop at one. She was wrapped in some guy's arms on the beach, smiling. Her dark hair was shorter and curlier but the best part about the picture was her smile. It was real and I knew it was because of the guy. Her eyes sparkle
d, looking up at him with a beaming grin so different than the artificial ones she gave out now.

  My focus moved to the guy, the ex-boyfriend, I could only guess. The kid was the fucking poster child for the "All American Good Guy," the guy parents dreamed their daughters would bring home. The complete opposite of me.

  With my curiosity still piqued, I looked at every picture of Daisy and golden boy, or some with a blonde chick that smiled too big, it was almost creepy. I finally figured out who each person was when I reached a photo with the words, Tanner, Tessa and Daisy, Spring Break 2009, scrawled across it. Ahh, so the blonde was the girl on suicide watch, who looked strangely similar to the boy with his hand wrapped around Daisy's hip. Interesting.

  "Keegan," Daisy's mom startled me and I whipped my eyes her way. "The guest room is all made up for you whenever you're ready." I nodded in response, following her up the stairs. The small room was plain and filled with trinkets like the rest of the house. I swear, I had already noticed five different things that said the words "home sweet home" on them. An older, wooden sleigh bed stood in the middle of the room with a large quilt spread over the top.

  As soon as her mom left the room, I grabbed the top of my shirt, pulling it over my head, and grabbed my phone from my pocket before sliding off my jeans. I had a shit ton of missed calls and texts because I had been ignoring everyone while we were on our way to the hospital. Tossing my clothes on the dresser, I climbed into the cold bed to answer everyone. A soft knock drew my attention away from my phone towards the closed door. "It's me," Daisy called through the door.

  "Come in," I answered, in a low tone so I wouldn't wake her parents. The door creaked open and she sauntered into the room, wearing only a tiny pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, clearly showing she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. I could see the hard outline of her nipples through the thin fabric, making me harden between my legs. Fuck, the girl must have been trying to torture me.

  "Hey," I said, moving around to adjust myself. I scooted over and patted the blanket with the palm of my hand.