Axle's Secret

by Nia Arthurs

  Axle drops my hand.

  The lack of warmth immediately pierces through my fear. I look down at where his fingers once tucked around mine. He’s got his arms locked together in his lap.

  Why did you let go?

  Before I can reach for him, a door opens and a doctor strides out. My family jumps to their feet. I stand as well, holding my breath while he trots closer. The silence in the room is so heavy every thud of the doctor’s shoes falls like a drumbeat.

  He glances at each of us in turn, his brown eyes glassy. Finally, he opens his mouth. “She’s okay.”

  A sigh explodes from my chest. I stagger back, overwhelmed by an ocean of feelings. Regret. Joy. Guilt. Relief.

  Axle steadies me but his touch is quick. As soon as his fingers settle around my wrist, he pulls back. As if I’m poisonous. I tuck the observation in my mind to study it later. For now, all I can do is hold back my tears.

  “Can I see her?” I croak.

  “She’s unconscious right now…”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I blurt.

  The doctor nods slowly. “Okay.”

  My grandparents go in to see Mom first and then it’s my turn. I take one step forward but stop. Glance back. Something is missing.

  Aunt B tilts her head. “Em, what’s wrong?”

  Axle. My eyes find his. Within their grey depths, I sense a blend of shame and fear. Then he ducks his head, breaking our gaze. I’m left wondering if I imagined it all.

  “Ax?” I whisper.

  “Yeah?” He doesn’t look up.

  I hold my hand out. “Would you come with me?”

  “I can’t…”

  “Please.”

  He steps forward cautiously and we all walk into Mom’s hospital room. Aunt B takes the seat next to the bed and holds onto Mom’s hand. Tears well in her eyes and fall down her cheeks.

  I sniff, willing myself not to weep. Mom’s alive. I shouldn’t be this emotional.

  Aunt B whimpers softly. “Nina, I know how much you want to see Diandre, but it’s not time yet. There are people here who still love you.” She glances back at me. “Who need you.”

  I reach out and smooth the sheet over Mom’s legs. Her chest rises and falls easily. Tenderness and anger clash in my heart.

  “You almost left me.” I suck in a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m not as easy to be around as Diandre, but I’ll be better.” My voice warbles. “I’ll try to be more like him so you don’t miss him as much.”

  I hear someone sniff and realize it’s Axle. He runs a hand down his face and lifts his chin, but the telltale signs of his red eyes and bobbing throat cannot be ignored.

  I smile softly at him and then turn back to my mother. “When you wake up, there’s someone I want you to meet. I think you’d like him. I have a feeling Diandre would approve of him too.”

  Axle pulls his lips in and says nothing. Pain flickers across his face. As if I just stabbed him.

  Why is he acting so weird? Is he that uncomfortable?

  I compose myself and lean over the bed to press a kiss to Mom’s temple. “I love you. See you soon.”

  We walk out and join the others in the waiting room. Many of the seats are empty. My grandparents are talking to the doctors, but the rest of my aunts and uncles must have headed to the cafeteria or gone home.

  Gone home… Axle!

  I whip my cell phone out of my purse and gasp at the time. “Axle, your flight!”

  “It’s okay. I texted Kolby already. He and my parents are meeting me at the airport with my suitcase and documents. I’ll drive straight there.”

  “Let me at least walk you out,” I insist.

  Axle seems uncomfortable with the idea, but I pretend not to pick up on his vibes and slip my arm through his elbow.

  Aunt B approaches us. “Leaving already?”

  “I’m just walking him to the parking lot,” I explain. “Axle needs to catch his plane.”

  “Have a safe flight.” Aunt B hops over and gives him a hug.

  “Thanks.” He releases her quickly.

  I capture his hand as we head through the halls to the exits. I’m not usually this aggressive with physical affection—not unless you count that unfortunate incident with the wine—but for some reason I’m feeling especially comfortable.

  It’s only been a week, but Axle and I have been through so much. I think I’ve seen the type of man he is and I trust him.

  The fact that we’ll be so far from each other only makes me want to touch him, feel him, be with him more.

  “This is it,” Axle says. He presses the alarm fob and his car beeps in response.

  I slide my hands around his waist and tuck my body close to his. He squirms but doesn’t push me away. I interpret his discomfort as shyness. We are in public after all and Axle may not appreciate PDA as much as I do.

  Well, too bad.

  “I’ll miss you,” I mumble, lifting my chin to stare straight into his face.

  Axle leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll miss you too.”

  “Do you have to go?”

  He doesn’t immediately respond.

  I look up, stunned by his tortured expression. “Axle?”

  “I can’t do this,” he mumbles against my skin. “I’m… sorry, Ember.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.” I step back because if I hold onto him a moment longer, I don’t think I’ll be able to let him go.

  Axle rounds the hood of his car and climbs into the driver’s seat. I wave at him through the glass window and back away so he has plenty of space to reverse.

  Instead of moving immediately, I notice him gripping the rim of the steering wheel with all his might. His head is low and his hair tapers over his face so I can’t exactly make out his expression, but he seems to be enduring his own form of agony.

  I’m about to step forward and rap on the window to ask if he’s alright when Axle starts the car and speeds out of the parking lot.

  My heart twitches.

  He didn’t even look back.

  I shake my head to rid myself of the thought. I’m overthinking things. Axle was acting weird today because he was late for his flight.

  We’ll see each other again. It’s not like we’re living in the stone ages. We’ve got the Internet, telephones, and enough modes of transportation to keep a relationship alive.

  “It’s all going to be alright, Ember,” I mumble to myself as I head inside the hospital.

  But I’m wrong.

  That night, I get no word from Axle. I figure he’s tired and let him be.

  When there’s no call the next day, I decide to take the initiative and send him a text. But there’s no reply. I wait as long as I can—which is only twelve hours—before I send another text.

  Then I call.

  No answer.

  I text again.

  No reply.

  The next three days, I feed myself stupid excuses about why Axle doesn’t reach out to me. After a week long vacation, he must be swamped with work. Or maybe there was an emergency.

  I focus on Mom as she’s released from the hospital and as she, miraculously, agrees to go to rehab. Nearly dying shifted her perspective and for that, I’m almost glad that it happened.

  Things would be perfect, if only Axle would reply to my messages.

  After a week, I get enough and call Kolby for more information. He answers eagerly, which is my first clue that Axle didn’t die over the past few days.

  “Hey, Ember! I was meaning to text you. When can we go out for ice cream again?”

  “Anytime,” I say weakly. “Uh… has Axle spoken to you lately?”

  “Oh, yeah. He’s doing well. Why? Hasn’t he kept in touch with you?”

  My mind goes blank. I don’t even remember what I tell Kolby before I invent a lame excuse to hang up on him.

  Axle’s doing well.

  That means he hasn’t responded to me… because he doesn’t want
to.

  My heart shatters.

  I’ve been played.

  23

  Axle

  I shoot up, struggling to fight off the terror clamoring over my body. The blankets tangled around my feet bind me tighter. Sweat drips off every inch of my skin. I run a hand through my hair. My fingers tremble so bad I can’t even guide them.

  I’m safe. It was just a dream.

  I glance around. My bedroom is pitch black. I reach over and flick the lamp on, allowing the warm glow to chase away the shadows. It does very little to help. The guilt is a part of me now. Embedded in my bones. There’s no light strong enough to banish it.

  I sigh and sink against my pillows, but closing my eyes brings its own brand of horror. Tattooed on the back of my eyelids is Diandre’s face as he sinks into the depths, dragging me with him.

  I’ve had the nightmare every day this week. The memories are no longer breathing down my neck. They’re curling into bed with me, throwing their gnarled legs over mine and cuddling close.

  It will never end.

  And I don’t want it to. What would I do with the freedom? I don’t deserve it anyway.

  Still, it’s too early to be up and there’s no way I’m going back to sleep. I need some air. Grabbing my tennis shoes, I slip my feet into them and head outside.

  The night is still. The trees dotting the lawn of my apartment are frozen, like they’re not even real. Like they’re cardboard props. Darkness blankets the sky. Not a star twinkles above.

  My feet thud against the pavement as I start off with a jog. The street lamps light my way. I pick up the pace, pushing my body as hard as I can so my thoughts have no voice. Each breath escapes in a huff.

  Ember…

  No. I can’t think about her. Every memory of her beautiful face, her soft skin, her dazzling smile… it whittles my resolve. Tempts me to go back to her.

  And I can’t. Not unless it’s to tell her the truth. Which is an option I don’t have the courage to pursue. So instead, I run. As far away as I can.

  When I finally stop for rest, my legs burn and my heart throbs. I press a hand to my chest, wondering whether the pain there is from exhaustion or from missing Ember.

  I’m not sure.

  I lean against a post to catch my breath and realize I’m leaning against the gate of a church. A large cross hugs the post on the roof and the dawn bathes the wood in hues of purple and pink. A gentle wind breathes over me.

  I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath.

  “Need a cup of water?”

  My eyes burst open. I spin and find a short priest dressed in black. Clutched in his fingers are rosary beads. I rub the back of my neck, not sure if I’m supposed to bow or something.

  “Uh, no thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  I’m surprised when he turns and disappears into the church. I expected him to put up a little more of a fuss.

  My sneakers brush the pavement as I turn around. The sudden movement sends a clang through my head. Dizziness overcomes me, and I regret not taking the priest up on his offer.

  “Here.” Suddenly a cup is thrust before my nose. “Drink.” I glance up and realize the priest is back. He has a thatch of grey hair and dark brown eyes. When I don’t immediately respond to him, he wiggles the cup. “It’s not spiked.”

  I chuckle and accept it from him, drinking thirstily. “Thanks.”

  “You training for a marathon?”

  “Not exactly.”

  He nods. “Running from something?”

  I have no reply.

  “Want some advice?”

  “Even if I say ‘no’, you’re going to share it, right?”

  “Of course not. Advice won’t do much good if no one listens.”

  I study him, wondering what an old religious man could possibly understand about my situation. “Go ahead.”

  He smiles serenely. “One thing I’ve learned in life is that you can never outrun your problems. No matter where you go, they’ll find you, they’ll chase you… until you face them.”

  “It’s not as easy as that,” I say.

  “What’s so hard about it?”

  “The woman I care for… she could get hurt if I stop running.”

  He tilts his head. “How are you so sure?”

  So I tell him. About my friends playing that deadly prank on Diandre ten years ago. About meeting Ember again. Falling for her. Finding out later that she was Diandre’s sister.

  When I’m done, the priest whistles. “That’s… complicated.”

  “Now you get me.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers.

  I shrug.

  He leans against the post. “Ten years ago, a friend of mine discovered he had HIV. At the time, he was about to propose to the woman he loved. He struggled with telling her and in the end, he ran away.”

  “He was protecting her.”

  “He was a coward,” the priest says firmly. “His illness was a part of him. Telling her wouldn’t heal him or put their future back together, but at least she would know. She’d have an answer.”

  “Did he ever tell her?”

  “Yes. After a year of soul searching, he finally went back to her and explained everything.”

  “And?”

  “Now they’re good friends.” He smiles. “And she’s happily married to another man. They have three kids.”

  The thought of Ember with another man sends a searing pain through my chest, but what do I expect? There’s no way she’ll want me after everything I’ve done. What difference will it make if I tell her the truth or if I end things by running away?

  Just like the guy in the story, we have no hope of being together.

  “But she’ll know the truth,” the priest says, as if he can read my thoughts. He leans closer. “And the truth will set you free. You and her.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it. I’ve tried before but I—”

  “Try again.” He squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll be praying for you, young man.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, go.”

  I nod determinedly.

  The sun rises in a brilliant display as I turn and jog back home. Without stopping to talk myself out of it, I sprint to my bedroom, grab my suitcase and throw clothes in.

  Ten minutes later, I hail a cab and speed to the airport. I book a flight back to my hometown and in no time, I’m flying over the clouds.

  Nausea roils in my gut the entire ride. I’m doing the right thing, but I have no peace. Did the priest’s prayers even work?

  I’m a nervous wreck when the plane lands and by the time I disembark, I wonder if I should just catch a train back home.

  I ignore the impulse and grab my suitcase, wheeling it outside to catch another cab. Familiar landmarks roll past my window, but I’m not paying attention. I’m too busy reminding myself to breathe.

  I’m so close now.

  When the cab finally stops in front of Bee’s condo, I pay my fare and climb out. The driver speeds away and I look longingly at the trunk of the yellow cab as it grows smaller in the distance.

  Come back…

  Of course, the driver doesn’t hear me and quickly disappears down the lane. Now I’m alone and the only thing between me and Ember is that red door.

  “You’ve made it this far, Axle,” I mumble to myself. “Just a few more steps and then it’s all over.”

  I march forward, not quite sure what to expect. My fingers tremble when I rap against the door. Softly at first. Then more intently.

  There’s no movement.

  Relief snakes through me. Ember isn’t home.

  Well, at least I tried…

  There’s a click. A slow creak. And then the door cracks open and I catch a glimpse of smooth brown skin and big brown eyes.

  Ember.

  She widens the door and stares at me, her face expressionless.

  I swallow. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “C
an I come in?”

  She widens the door without a word. I step inside, my gaze trailing her back as she moves ahead of me. Ember’s hair falls all over her face in riotous curls. Her long legs stretch below tiny shorts. Her feet are bare and glide over the floor.

  My heart is attacking my chest, skittering all over the place. I know I’m doing the right thing, so why is it such a challenge?

  Ember sits in the sofa and stares at me. “It’s been a while.”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry about a lot of things.” I lick my lips. “How have you been?”

  She glares at me. “Do you really care?”

  “Ember…”

  “I let you in because I deserve an explanation. That’s it. Why are you here, Axle?”

  Here goes nothing. “I have to tell you something. I should have done it a long time ago.”

  She folds her arms across her chest.

  “I was there the night Diandre died,” I blurt.

  Ember doesn’t move. Doesn’t even flicker an eyelash.

  I scoot toward the edge of my seat, plowing through the words as quickly as possible. “It was after the party. Seb wanted to talk to Maribella but Diandre was dancing with her. When we saw Diandre walking home, Seb stopped and offered a ride. I told him to get in. I promised him… he would be fine.”

  “What happened next?” Ember asks softly.

  “They drove to Green Lake. I was drunk and confused. When I realized what was happening, Seb and Corey were already hurling Diandre into the water. I heard a crack. Back then, I wasn’t sure what it was but now I think he might have hit his head on the edge of the dock.”

  She flinches.

  “The next morning, we heard Diandre was dead. We were sixteen, scared of what would happen. We made a pact to keep it a secret.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  I look up. Fall into her brown eyes. “You.”

  Silence reigns for a long beat. I press my hands together and stare at the floor. Now that the truth is out, I feel like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders.

  “Did you know all this time? That I was Diandre’s sister?”