Just One Moment (Just One Song #4)

by Stacey Lynn

  Kennedy leans back in her seat. "Do you think that's wise? Giving this talk while all this is going on?"

  I feel my hackles rise and roll back my shoulders, but I can't look her in the eye when I say, "I've made a commitment."

  "Yeah, but maybe this week isn't the best time to relive everything, either."

  "Funny," I snap, sarcasm thick in my tone. "Didn't you just say that no one could tell me the right thing to do?"

  "That's not what I mean, Sarah."

  "I know." I turn my back to my best friend—my only friend, really—and head to my room. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just tired. I'm going to turn in for the night."

  I'm down the hall and behind the comfort of my closed door before she can respond.

  Later, after I've rehashed my speech and what I typically say to teenagers when I'm a part of their assemblies, I've just climbed into bed when I hear my phone ringing from where I left it on the kitchen table.

  Over it, I hear Kennedy's voice murmuring to someone and I assume she's talking to Grayson. Since I feel like a shit for being a bitch to my friend, but am not yet in the mood to apologize or rehash everything, I don't go get my phone.

  I'm almost asleep when a knock hits my door and Kennedy opens it.

  "Hey," she says, her voice quiet as if she knows she's just woken me up. "I was on the phone earlier when yours rang. It was Nicole."

  She gives me a soft smile, walks into my room to hand me my phone, and then leaves, but not without a nice parting shot.

  "You have a lot of people who love you, babe. Lynx is one of them. Don't push us all away when things get tough. We only want what's best for you."

  With tears burning the backs of my eyes, I stare at my phone and ignore Kennedy's words of wisdom—not because they've made me mad, but because if I were to speak now, I'd be a blubbering mess.

  Fortunately for me, Kennedy understands. "Love you, Sarah. Sleep tight."

  "You, too," I choke out.

  When she closes the door behind her, I stare at the icon on my phone indicating I have a voicemail message.

  I blow out a breath, puffing out my cheeks, hit the Listen button, and put the phone to my ear.

  Immediately, Nicole's happy and kind voice trickles through the line.

  "Hi, Sarah, it's Nicole Walters. I'm so sorry I haven't been able to call you earlier, and I know this is last minute, but we just arrived in Chicago tonight for our concerts this weekend. The kids have kept me so busy on this tour, touring with us, that I feel like I've lost my mind and all sense of time—otherwise I would have let you know sooner. Anyway." She inhales a breath and I feel my lips stretching into a smile despite myself. "We're here, at the Trump Tower. We've got three concerts all weekend long and are staying a couple more days afterward. If you want tickets, backstage passes like usual, give me a call and I'll set up however many you need for you and your friends. And if you have any engagements scheduled, let me know that too. We're busy with rehearsing, but I can try to make it to work to join you..."

  My pulse begins fluttering wildly and I lick my lips. My grip tightens on the phone and that same tightening happens in my chest.

  Of all the timing for this to happen.

  I squeeze my eyes closed while Nicole continues blathering on about her kids and the tour and Zack and how the other guys in the band would love to see me again while I fight the heart attack that seems to be blooming inside my chest.

  I have no idea if she means it, if anybody else in her band really does care about me, but they've always been kind in the past.

  "Just call me, okay? Okay...I think that's all. Although that's a lot. Sorry for the rambling. I'll talk to you soon."

  Her voice disappears from my ear, but I still hear it completely inside my head.

  I could easily ignore this.

  I could easily do my gig tomorrow, never let Nicole know, and not go to her concert.

  I've done it before, and she's never held it against me.

  But I can't help think of Lynx.

  He's trying to get better, in part so he can be with me.

  And if I want him—which I do, despite my fears, because Kennedy is absolutely right: I love him—then I have to make the first small step in getting better myself.

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I hit the Missed Calls button and call Nicole.

  ***

  At an enrollment hovering right around three thousand, Naperville North High School doesn't even rank in the top ten largest high schools in Illinois. The size is still daunting as I stare at the packed bleachers of their gymnasium from my seat on a small stage at one end.

  In order not to cause unnecessary commotion, Nicole and Zach are waiting backstage and were ushered into the school with a disguise so students wouldn't know she was joining me.

  Zach is here because he loves his wife fiercely and also understands how difficult this is for her. He also understands that she will always share her love for him with the memory of others.

  I'm often in awe of her, and have been for years.

  These engagements, where Nicole is present, are always the hardest. With her presence today, which I am thankful she could do on such short notice—especially knowing they rearranged their first rehearsal to make this possible—I'm more nervous than normal.

  Only half-listening to the principal, Mrs. Ruskey, prattle on about the reason for this assembly, I can feel my adrenaline begin coursing through my veins. My foot begins tapping an erratic beat against the wooden platform, and I find myself thinking only one thing.

  I wish Lynx were here.

  I wish I could share this with him.

  I wish I were brave enough to share my entire story with him, and like he did the first time I freaked out in front of him, I wish he were here to listen, and then to hand me a cup of warm milk flavored with vanilla while giving me the space I need afterward.

  My gaze roams the vast gymnasium, but all I see is a slew of uninterested faces, half of which have their eyes dipped to their laps.

  Teenagers.

  Ironic that I'm getting ready to stand in front of them and speak to them about the dangers of the very thing they're addicted to these days.

  I imagine it's how someone addicted to cigarettes feels about the disgusting commercials on television, or an alcoholic unwilling to admit they have a problem. The words filter through non-listening ears and fall into a void, forgotten before the statement is completed.

  In this large space, my role, my desire to help, seems more unattainable than ever before.

  A bored round of applause snaps me from my pathetic wanderings, and I scramble toward the podium.

  As the microphone is handed to me, I thank Principal Ruskey for allowing me to visit and speak to her students before I gently slide the microphone back into its holder. I take it out later, but the first few minutes I'm usually trembling so hard that my hands shake. It's easier for me to curl them around the edges of a podium until I find my groove.

  "Hello," I say into the microphone. "My name is Sarah Linscum." I inhale another long, calming breath and continue to introduce myself. As I see the crowd already beginning to lose whatever interest they were feigning to have out of pure politeness, I ask the question. "How many of you know Zack Walters?"

  Heads snap up, cell phones temporarily forgotten.

  "Today, I have a special guest with me. You see, seven years ago, when I was your age, I was involved in a car accident. A car accident that was my fault, and that took the lives of a man and a child."

  A few gasps spark into the air. The familiar lump in my throat begins to grow.

  I give everyone a sad smile and nod my head in understanding. "I'll get to the reason for that accident in a few moments, but for now I'd like to tell you that the people who died in that accident were related to a woman you know as Nicole Walters."

  A few more gasps. A few murmurs begin to whisper throughout the crowd. More than a few cell phones appear, and I know they’ve begun recording me.r />
  "Please give a round of applause for my special guest Nicole Walters."

  I turn to the side as the gasps become cheers and the whispers grow into shouts. The round of applause is deafening, with guys whooping and catcalling as Nicole, gorgeous as ever, enters from behind the stage.

  I can't help but notice her cheeks, pinked from embarrassment as teenage boys holler their approval at her presence. She's stunningly beautiful as always, with her shoulder-length dark brown hair and eyes that don't bother to hide how difficult this is for her as well.

  As she reaches me, she squeezes my hand and leans in, kissing me on the cheek.

  "It will always amaze me how brave you are for continuing to do this for them," she whispers in my ear.

  We both know the “them” she refers to isn’t the teenagers, but her family.

  Tears immediately blur my vision as I squeeze her hand back and turn to the crowd, holding up a hand in Nicole's direction until the applause dies down.

  She looks at me, laughing softly over the noise, and then leans into the microphone and says, "Hello. I'm so thrilled to be here."

  This brings another round of applause that is louder than before, and it takes several minutes for the students to calm down. While we wait, I feel a tingle slide down my neck and the hairs at the back stand on edge.

  I quickly flicker my gaze throughout the gym to see if I notice anyone who would cause this odd sensation and come up empty.

  Someone is here.

  I can feel their gaze on me, strengthening me somehow.

  Or you're losing your mind.

  I shake off the strange sensation when I don't see anyone I know or recognize, and step back up to the podium, this time with Nicole by my side.

  ***

  Lynx

  Her voice begins to boom throughout the gymnasium after the applause dies down. From my spot, high in the crowd, huddled with teachers and administration, I can see the slight quiver of her chin and the way her hands grasp the podium a bit tighter when she clears her throat.

  "As I was saying before, my name is Sarah Linscum. I'm here today, not only as a representative of T.A.T.D., an organization I helped begin, but as someone who has firsthand knowledge of the consequences of texting while driving." She inhales a deep breath and I can see that chin quiver go a bit wobblier before she gets herself under control.

  Next to Sarah, Nicole reaches out and squeezes her elbow even as she wipes her cheek with the fingertips of her other hand.

  "When I was seventeen, I had spent an afternoon at a mall with one of my best friends. I dropped her off at home and was running late to get home. Like many of your parents have given you, I, too, had rules I was supposed to follow in the car and I tried to respect my parents enough to do so. Most of the time. That day, I knew my parents were getting ready to go out for the night, and I might miss them before I made it home, so when I was close..."

  My chest begins to tighten as Sarah looks at Nicole, and I see the glimmer of tears already falling down her cheeks. She bites the inside of her cheek while she regains her composure.

  And I realize as she begins speaking again, her voice shaking, that my chest isn't tightening...

  My heart is breaking for her.

  For the fact that she relives this moment in her life all the time, and in doing so, it's never seemed to bring her any peace. I've seen the darkness in her eyes when her thoughts drift, and now I know the reason.

  She isn't just as damaged as me.

  She doesn't have the same demons as I do.

  Hers run far deeper, because while I saw horrific things, I was also trained for it.

  But Sarah...this torments her.

  I push a hand against my chest to dull the pain I feel as I watch her.

  "The road I was on isn't traveled often. It's a back road, not far from where I lived, but it's curvy, and it was stupid to ever take my eyes off the road. But I did." She pauses again and rolls back her shoulders.

  I can't help but grin as she finds her own strength to continue.

  "And when I did, I dipped my head for just a moment. I peeked out the window in between every single letter I typed, but even that wasn’t enough. It took just a moment, just one half-second for a car to come around the curve, and neither of us had time to react. I had crossed a yellow line and the car in front of me didn't have time to move before I slammed directly into the side."

  Gasps and murmurs flutter through the crowd.

  My own hands ball into fists.

  "I ruined more than two lives that day. I forever altered Nicole's and both of their extended families’. My decision had everlasting effects on my own family, my parents in particular. My dad was governor at the time, and when the full events of the accident were released, he was forced to step down due to public outcry, which I'm to blame for. For months, my life went into a downward spiral filled with guilt and depression that I couldn't pull myself out from. It was months later when I ended up in the hospital after attempting to take my own life..."

  She takes another breath and shakes her head as if clearing the memories from the forefront of her mind. Next to her, Nicole runs a hand down Sarah's head and fuck...why isn't that me standing there?

  Thank fucking God Kennedy called and told me what Sarah was doing today.

  No way in hell was I missing it, but now I can't help but wish I hadn't been such a pussy and just joined her beforehand, let her know I'm here for her.

  I want to be the one soothing her.

  A picture suddenly flashes on the large screen behind her, and even though Sarah doesn't turn around to see the smiling faces, Nicole does, and her fingertips cover her mouth as her jaw drops.

  Her shoulders shake a bit while she takes in the photos I can assume are her first husband and son.

  I pull my eyes off the screen to the crowd, seeing that most of the females are sniffling and wiping tears away from their cheeks while at least half the boys are finding it difficult to control their own, but not willing to let them fall.

  I focus on Sarah, explaining who the man and boy are, what their lives were like before the accident. While she continues speaking, I've heard enough.

  I duck out of the gymnasium and head to the teachers’ lounge after getting permission from the woman at the front office, saying it's for Nicole Walters.

  But while my hands are busy, doing the only thing I can think of to let Sarah know I'm here for her, here for her despite the fact that she’s still avoiding me, I can see my own hands shaking.

  In part with rage hearing about what she's survived.

  In other parts sadness that this attempt at getting in contact with her could fall flat on its face like all the times I've tried already.

  When I have her drink done, I dump it into my own washed-out travel mug I brought with me. I sneak back into the gymnasium, just behind the stage, to see someone I've never expected to see in my life.

  Zack Walters.

  Rock star God.

  Husband to Nicole.

  His face looks just as tortured as I feel mine does as he listens to the story going on so close to where he is, but he can't see.

  I clear my throat and get his attention. "Hey, I'm Lynx. A friend of Sarah's."

  His eyes spark with acknowledgement, and as I get close he holds out his hand. "Zack Walters."

  "Yeah.” I shake his hand with my free one. "I know who you are."

  He chuckles at that, something I'm sure he gets a lot, but his eyes don't register amusement.

  "Listen, man," I say and cringe. This guy might think I'm an asshole. "I've gotta get going and Sarah doesn't know I'm here, but can you make sure she gets this?"

  I hold out the travel mug, feeling even more like a pussy—but if she doesn't want me here, the last thing I want to do is upset her further right after she's done speaking.

  Nicole’s unfamiliar voice is speaking and based on that, I assume, Sarah's part of the story is done, for the most part.

  His brows knit
together. "What is it?"

  "Just a drink for her. She'll know who it's from."

  His eyes lift to mine. "You don't want me to tell her?"

  "She'll know." I hand him the mug and shove my hands back into my jeans. "Thanks."

  I leave before I change my mind and say damn it all to hell, I don't care what she wants, I want to wrap my arms around her.

  But it'll have to wait. Until she comes to me.

  ***

  Sarah

  "You know," Nicole says once we're backstage, "I know I tell you all the time you're brave for doing this, but sometimes I can't help but worry about you. Are you okay?"

  "I do the best I can."

  She presses her lips together, rolls them, and then finally nods. "I didn't think I'd ever be able to get over what happened, so while our roles in this are different, we've both carried our own sense of guilt. But I know that for me, it really took opening myself up to the possibility of being able to be happy again for that guilt to finally slide away."

  I lick my lips and look away. The difference is that it was my choices that caused her to feel guilty. For her to lose everything.

  "Nicole—" I start to say, but I'm cut off when Zack walks up to us and wraps his arms around his wife. She immediately leans into him while he presses his lips against her temple.

  I look away, feeling unwelcome in their loving embrace while he whispers something I can't hear into her ear.

  "Speaking of loving someone," he says when he finally pulls back. "You had a visitor."

  My head jerks back. "Kennedy?"

  Zack smiles and hands me a to-go mug, making my jaw instantly drop. It has the symbol of Lynx’s gym on it.

  "Said you'd know who it was from."

  God. I do.

  I take the cup and feel the warmth. I choke back a sob as I already know what's in this damn mug.

  "Looks to me like someone loves you," Nicole says, understanding in her tone when she sees my eyes fill with tears again. "You just have to let them, and I swear, it makes everything easier."