For A Reason

by T. N. Cole

  "Caisey, I need you to keep an eye on Katelyn, please, and—” Caisey cut me off with a wave of her hand.

  "I got this, Tristan. Run along and go play with your balls with the other boys." She shooed me away. I rolled my eyes, but that was another one of the reasons I let Caisey be one of my closer friends—well, as close as I let them be, at least—because she never asked questions. She just let me be.

  I winked at her and said, "I knew you were my favorite for a reason."

  "T! Let's go! Stop flirting with my girl!" Ryan yelled.

  I spared one last glance at Katelyn before jogging to the field, but Caisey was already introducing her to the other girls.

  "You're playing forward for Alex's team." I nodded my thanks at Brody and took my place.

  I didn’t think I would ever be able to play soccer again after the accident. Actually, I didn’t think I would ever be able to do any kind of physical activity ever again. I wouldn’t have been able to regain any motor capabilities on my right side if my mom hadn’t snapped out of her drunken stupor the minute she’d heard of my accident. She had been born into a rich family, and as the only child, she inherited everything when they died, which was before I was born. And my parents had never been legally married, so when my dad left, my mom was able to keep everything.

  She threw her money around after I had the accident, ensuring that I had the best doctors, surgeons, physical therapists...everything. Except all the money in the world couldn’t do anything about the guilt that ate away at me day and night.

  I played soccer all through high school, and I was good. I was being scouted by college coaches through my club soccer team and everything. Except after Mel had died, I stopped. Firstly, I physically wasn’t capable of playing soccer for about a year. Next, I just didn’t have the drive to. It wasn’t until second semester of freshman year when we started this tradition of pick-up soccer games that I got back onto the field.

  To me, nothing compared to the adrenaline of the game. Well, maybe the part where I beat the other team. And the part after, when I was so exhausted from running up and down the field that I quickly fell into a dreamless sleep once I hit my bed. Our team won, 4-1. The girls had gotten more than tipsy and were quickly turning the game into a field party. Katelyn seemed to have integrated herself nicely into the group of girls.

  Katelyn had a small grin on her face as she walked up to me, causing my heart to start racing like it had been when I was running down the field. She motioned for the ball I was holding in my hands. I tossed it to her and watched in amusement as she bounced it off the tops of both her feet to both her knees then headed the ball back into my hands.

  Logan apparently saw this and strode over, beer in hand, and asked Katelyn, “You play, little girl?”

  She shrugged. “Nah, not really. I only know a few tricks that my best friend from high school taught me. He was the captain of the soccer team, both the school team and his club team.”

  I arched an eyebrow—that was me in high school, too. “Oh, yeah? Show me a trick,” Logan taunted and hit the ball out of my hands so that Katelyn could show off with it.

  She took a few steps back, tossed the ball up above her head, and when it came back down, she put her right foot on the ball, kicked it up with her left, and then bounced it back and forth on both her knees before she caught it on her back and grabbed it behind her with both hands. Logan broke into an exaggerated clap, and she mock bowed.

  I was stunned. I had taught Mel that move when we were in high school.

  Mel broke her silence for the first time that night saying, Don’t look at me—I don’t know this chick.

  “Look at you, T. Already teaching her your signature moves,” Alex joined in; clearly he had seen Katelyn’s little show and walked over.

  Katelyn studied my tense expression. “What are they talking about?”

  Logan and Alex fell silent. I waited a moment to see if they would explain, before reluctantly responding, “That’s my move. The one you just did. Where’d you learn it?”

  “I already told you; my best friend from high school taught it to me.” Katelyn crossed her arms. “Is it a crime to have the same moves now?”

  I shook my head slowly. “Of course, not. It’s just a little strange.” The guys tipped back their beers in silent agreement.

  She dropped her arms and then she shrugged. “I would ask him, but he died.”

  I COULDN’T SLEEP. IT was three in the morning, and I had been lying in bed for the past hour. Apparently, the game hadn’t been enough to make me pass out.

  Mel interjected, Are you sure that’s what’s keeping you up, Tristan?

  I ignored her—what Katelyn mentioned about her best friend was not bothering me—and threw off the sheets. I needed to do something. A run would probably help.

  As I was about to leave my apartment, I saw a manila envelope had been slid under the door. I picked it up and turned it over to see that it was unmarked. There was no name or anything on it. I had a bad feeling about this.

  Open it, dummy! Mel demanded impatiently. I pulled up the prongs and slowly took the contents out.

  Holy shit, Mel and I thought at the same time.

  It was a picture of Mel and me at our senior prom. We had always gone to all the high school dances together, and that was the last one we had been to. We had our arms around each other, and she was smiling up at me as I had grinned down at her. This picture had been in our yearbook, and it had been Mel’s phone background for the longest time. I touched Mel’s face with a shaking finger. I remembered that night clearly; she looked beautiful with her brown eyes shining as I made all her fairy tale prom dreams come true.

  “Where are you taking me?” Mel laughed as I helped her out of the car. I had blindfolded her so that she couldn’t see where I was driving her.

  “We’re almost there. Be patient for once,” I teased as I guided her with one arm while making sure the train of her silver dress didn’t snag on the uneven ground.

  Mel always wanted that perfect prom that we saw in all those torturous romantic comedies she forced me to sit through. Since she was my best friend, I knew I had to give her that dream prom. Besides, all the planning had been a good distraction with all the shit I had going on at home. I had gone all out and asked her in front of the whole school after winning the soccer game against our biggest rival.

  Now we were by the lake where I had decorated our spot in thousands of twinkling lights. Then there was a trellis where we would have dinner. By candlelight, of course. I had gone all out on this shit just to make it look like it was straight out of a movie set for Mel. We would meet up with the rest of our friends for pictures and the actual dance later.

  “Okay, stand here. You ready?” I chuckled when she frantically nodded her head and crushed my hand in hers. “Well, you gotta let me take the blindfold off, silly.”

  She released my hand and I reached around to unknot the blindfold. I stayed right next to her because I wanted to see her face when she saw what I had done.

  She gasped and her jaw dropped. Her eyes immediately started pooling with tears, and I immediately panicked.

  “Shit, Mel. What’s wrong? You don’t like it? We can fix it. We can go to dinner with everyone else.” I said as I stepped in front of her to wipe away the tears beginning to stream down her face.

  She smiled and laughed softly as she grabbed my wrists to halt my movements. “No! No, Tristan. It’s fucking perfect. How? When…” she trailed off as she peeked over my shoulder to look again, as if she was afraid it would all disappear before her eyes. She released my hands and walked around me toward the table set up with our dinner. She gazed up at the lights, and I watched her. Finally, she grinned at me and gestured to the table. “Well, Prince Charming, we gonna eat or not?”

  I shook my head and walked toward her to pull her chair out for her to sit down. “Shit, Mel. You scared me.”

  She laughed and touched my cheek before she sat down. “What girl in
her right mind wouldn’t like this, dumbass? I love that you did all this for me.”

  I grinned and walked around to my side of the table. “Just wait for the rest of the night. It’ll get even better.”

  She shook her head in mock disdain, but I could see she loved the princess treatment. “Love you, Tristan.”

  “Love you too, Mel.”

  I fell back against the door and closed my eyes as I slid down to the floor. The emotions were assaulting me. That night had changed everything.

  We had fun that night, didn’t we? Mel whispered brokenly.

  I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter. Stop, Mel.

  Do you regret it?

  Did I regret it? No, of course not. Mel had told me that was the best night of her life, and it was mine, too. Even if I fucked it up in the end.

  You didn’t fuck it up, Mel reprimanded me. I don’t regret losing my virginity to my best friend.

  I did. I regretted it. It was such a dick move on my part. I loved Mel more than anyone, but I didn’t think I could ever be more than just best friends with her. And I still had gone through with it even knowing that she thought she was in love with me.

  I shouldn’t have done it. I had a piss poor excuse—I was drunk. And it was the anniversary of my baby sister’s death that night. After that night, things had become ridiculously strained between Mel and me. Mostly because I couldn’t look her in the eyes without feeling guilty. Then, it eventually led to her death. No matter what angle I studied it from, it was always my fault. Mel was dead because of me.

  I banged my head against the door behind me a couple of times. I couldn’t deal with this. I looked down at the photo and gritted my teeth. There was no note with the picture. Who could have put this under my door? No one here knew—or was supposed to know—anything about my past. I had left it all behind when I moved out of our small town and closer to the city.

  I put my head between my knees and tried to breathe. This was too much for one night. Call me a pussy, but I still couldn’t deal with all the memories I had of Mel. I stood up and walked over to the kitchen. I opened a random drawer and shoved the envelope with the picture inside it, slamming it shut. Now I really needed that run to empty my mind.

  The air was humid, the clouds obscured any light that the moon could give off, and I could smell the rain that was sure to be pouring down soon. Yet, I didn’t care as I ran. I didn’t even know where I was going. All I could focus on was moving forward. Pumping my legs harder. The sweat pouring off me, soaking my sweatshirt. Trying to breathe as I pushed myself farther than I knew my body could handle.

  After a while, the sky opened up and it started to pour. I couldn’t see, and I tried, without bothering to stop, to slick my hair back against the water. The rain was falling too heavily—making my efforts futile when it forced my hair back to my forehead. I quickly gave up on it and kept going. My breath was coming in short pants now. The heavy pounding of my heart was my only indication that I was still alive. The rest of me had long floated on into a state of numbness.

  Thump, my heart went. Tristan.

  Thump, thump. Tristan, wake up.

  Thump. Tristan, open your eyes.

  Thump, thump, thump. Tristan, please, come back to me.

  I closed my eyes for a second to try to fight back the flashback. But the rain was really coming down now, and it seemed to be triggering the memory faster. I slipped in a puddle—the streets were starting to flood a little. I let myself fall forward onto my hands and knees, letting my head hang down. I couldn’t stop it anymore.

  Prying my eyes open felt like something I had forgotten how to do. But I begged my eyes to open. I needed to see Mel. I needed to make sure she was okay.

  I finally got my eyes open. I lethargically blinked away the blurriness. I wanted to open my mouth, except my throat was dry, sore, and scratchy. Besides, I couldn’t quite figure out how to open my jaw.

  “Tristan?” My mom’s shocked voice came somewhere from my left side. I couldn’t turn to look at her, my neck was trapped.

  She must have seen the wild look in my eyes as I started to realize I couldn’t really move anything. The chair screeched as she quickly stood up to be in my line of vision. “Hey, baby. Look at me. I can’t believe you’re awake.” Tears were streaming down her face as she gave me a shaky smile. What the hell? This wasn’t my mother. My mom didn’t give two shits about anything past the bottom of the bottle she was drinking. “I’m going to step out and get the nurse really quick, sweetie. Don’t panic.” She patted the hand she was holding and stood up. She backed away slowly, never taking her eyes off me, until she dashed to the door to shout to someone outside the room.

  Nurse? I fucking hated hospitals. Especially after Chloe died. Where was Mel? Was she in bad shape like this, too? She needed me. I tried to strain my body upward; however, not only could I not remember how to move my limbs—I couldn’t feel anything from my neck down.

  My mom returned to my left side, while an older woman, a nurse, moved to stand at my right side. “Ah, there’s those pretty blues. How are you feeling?”

  I just looked at her. Even if I wanted to respond with, “I can’t fucking move; how do you think I’m feeling?” I still couldn’t talk.

  “Here, this might help.” She produced a paper cup and brought it to my lips. She gently tugged my bottom lip down so she could trickle water in. It hurt to swallow. “You had a tube in there the whole time you were out. So it might be a little sore. Careful now.”

  After a few sips, she put the cup aside to check my vitals. I licked my lips and managed to rasp, “Where is she?” That was the only thing I cared about. That and when I could see her.

  The nurse and my mom exchanged a quick glance. My mom had taken my hand again. “It might be too soon.” My mom leaned over me and reached to smooth my hair with her other hand. “You need to rest, Tristan. I need you to get better, okay?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  My eyes flashed in anger—I didn’t give a fuck what she needed. I tried to shake my head. I whispered again, more forcefully, “Where’s Mel, Mom?”

  The tears in her eyes finally overflowed. “Baby. She…Mel didn’t make it.”

  I was dumbfounded. “Make it to the hospital to see me? Why? Where is she?”

  Mom looked helplessly at the nurse. I turned my head slightly to the right, ignoring the pain. The nurse was looking at me with pity—pity that I would come to loathe in the next year. “Your friend, Melanie, didn’t make it. She was proclaimed DOA. She’s gone, Tristan. Dead. I’m sorry.”

  She went on. I couldn’t hear what she was saying past the whooshing noise in my ears. I heard “morphine,” “lots of pain,” and “you were lucky.”

  NO! I didn’t know if I screamed that in my head or if I had finally managed to properly use my voice. All the numbness was gone now, and I was thrashing as much as I could on the hospital bed. The pain was overwhelming, but the pain inside dominated. Mel. Gone. Dead. No.

  I was aware of shouting as people swarmed into my room. There was a strange keening noise, like the sound of an animal in unimaginable pain. Someone was trying to restrain my movements. Someone was trying to calm me down, telling me that I was going to hurt myself more—as if that even mattered to me. Another voice was yelling for a sedative. A woman was crying—probably my mom. I didn’t give a shit. I needed to get out of this bed and find Mel. She was hurt somewhere. Because of me.

  The screeching noise started getting softer. The noise was me, I realized, as my limbs once again became heavy. I couldn’t stop my eyes from closing. Mel, don’t leave me. I need you.

  I couldn’t tell if the wetness on my face was from the rain or from my tears. I was barely able to lift my head back up. I slowly stood on shaky legs. I tilted my head back, lifting my face toward the night sky. I let the rain wash over me. I wanted to forget. Even if it was just for a little while.

  My legs were rubber as I tried to step forward. I stumbled but caught myself before I c
ould hit the pavement again. I lifted my hand over my eyes to shield my eyes and to try to see where I was—but it was no use. It was storming and way too dark to see anything besides the dark silhouette of a building just to my right. I limped my way over there, realizing it was an apartment complex as I got closer. I forced my legs to take a few more steps until I fell against the wall next to the staircase. At least I wasn’t in the rain anymore. I let my back slide down the wall until I was in a sitting position. By this point, I was fighting to keep my eyes from closing.

  Mel was scared. Tristan, what if you don’t wake up? You’re cold and wet. Don’t fall asleep!

  I groggily nodded my head in agreement, then I leaned my head against the wall behind me. And the blackness consumed me.

  “TRISTAN? HOLY SHIT. TRISTAN? Wake up. Oh god, Tristan!” a familiar voice was saying while a hand was on my shoulder shaking me. Hard.

  I groaned and tried to push the hand off me, but my limbs were weak and sore. “Stop,” I commanded, my voice raspy, while keeping my eyes closed.

  “What the hell are you doing here? Why are you soaking wet? Tristan, look at me,” a panicked Katelyn said.

  I cracked one eye open to look at her. She was crouched next to me wearing tiny purple shorts with an off-the-shoulder gray top. I opened both eyes blearily. “What do you want.” It came out more like a sharp statement than a question. I was annoyed, both because she was waking me up and because I was strangely relieved to see her.

  Her eyes flashed with anger, and she stood up. “God, you’re a bastard,” she muttered. Then louder she said, “Well, it’s not every day you find a guy sleeping in the hallway of an apartment complex. Not to mention you look dead. You’re a mess. How did you end up here?”

  It was too early for all the questions. I rubbed my hands over my face and decided not to answer. “Too many questions. Just—just stop. Leave me alone.”

  “Sorry, I have too much humanity to leave a half-dead looking guy on the ground of my apartment building,” she retorted.