by Layla Dorine
“Okay, I can understand that, but in order to be able to do anything you need to first figure out exactly what you’re still capable of.”
“And if I’m not capable of anything?”
River laughed until Nicky lifted his head and glared, clearly insulted. “Your head is still attached to your body and your brain still works. I’d say you’re far better off than people who end up brain damaged or completely fuckin’ paralyzed. You’re being a coward right now, Nicky, and until you realize that, this,” River said as he handed him back the remote, “is all you’ll ever have.”
When Nicky didn’t turn the TV back on, River gave him a little smile.
“It hurts,” Nicky admitted. “They say move your hand, squeeze the ball, and it’s like fire shooting up my arm. It’s like being back on the track and the bikes are hitting me and there’s nothing I can do to escape it. I asked them to give me more pain killers, but instead they lowered the dose and said they’re weaning me off them, but then how do they expect me to try when all I can think about is the pain?”
“Then you need to learn to think about other things, just like with racing. Do you think you’d have ever won a race if you’d gotten on the track thinking about how hot or dusty it was that day, or how much more experience the other riders had? It’s about mental toughness as much as what you can do physically, and deep down you know that.”
Nicky’s jaw clenched and he nodded.
“I get it, I do,” River said. “Sometimes it’s easier to not even bother trying.”
Nicky’s expression turned from guarded to curious, and River gave him a real smile. “I grew up in the house of a real son of a bitch. He wasn’t my old man, just the guy my mom married, and he was one of those people who believed children should be seen and not heard. I can’t tell you how many times I got back-handed across the mouth for talking back or smarting off, even if all I’d dared do was offer a suggestion or opinion. It got to the point where I just stopped bothering to talk. Even after they split up and I got a new stepfather, one who actually gave a shit and wanted to listen, I had a real hard time saying anything. I’d gotten so good at not speaking that it was real hard to start talking again. I’d flinch when I did say something, expecting to get smacked, but gradually talking got easier and I found that my new stepfather was actually real easy to get along with. He’s the best thing that ever happened to my mom, my brothers, and me.”
Nicky didn’t seemed to know how to respond to that at first. River watched him as his mouth opened and closed several times before he finally muttered, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago, and it taught me a lot about myself. Maybe I say shit that people don’t want to hear, but its way better than just sitting back and watching.”
“I didn’t even know your dad wasn’t really your dad, the way you’re always talking about him.”
“That’s because he is my dad, in all the ways that matter. He’s the one who taught me to be a man and how to treat people.”
Nicky looked up at him with sad, tired eyes. “I wish my dad were here. Maybe he’d know how to fix all this.”
“You already know how to fix it. You already know what you need to do. Now it’s time to pull yourself up by the bootstraps and do it.”
“It’s kinda too late, about the rehab,” Nicky admitted. “I fucked all of that up.”
“Maybe at that place, but then it doesn’t sound like that’s where you needed to be anyway,” River pointed out. “All the free time you’ve got with no one around is just extra time to wallow.”
“So, what then?” Nicky asked hesitantly.
River set the laptop on the bed between them and fired it up. “There are places with more therapy sessions than just one a day. Live-in places that are more intensive than the hospital rehab program. Places with counselors—which you need, so don’t bother protesting. They can help you focus on what’s important, and, Nicky, racing ain’t it.”
Nicky sighed and refused to look at River.
“Come on, Nicky. When was the last time you were able to do something on your own?” River prodded. “Don’t you want to be able to do things for yourself again? Go surf if you want or take off in your truck?”
“You know I do.”
“Then you need to focus on getting better. And you’re going to need help. These places specialize in helping people like you who’ve suffered traumatic injuries. You just need to get your head right and be willing to check yourself into one.”
“How do you know about all this?” Nicky asked cautiously.
“My uncle.”
“The landscaper?”
“No, the truck driver. He was in the army before he started long-hauling. Figured if anyone would know someone with the kind of injuries to end up in rehab, it would be him.”
Nicky eyed him curiously. “And…”
“And he called up a buddy of his, and we spent about two hours talking. Lot of what he said sounds just like the shit you’ve been doing. Pushing people away, giving up, acting defensive whenever anyone suggests that you need help.”
“And you think going away will help me?”
“Being here sure hasn’t. What will it hurt to look? If you don’t like what you see, we’ll look into something else. At least try. I think you need to be somewhere where you can put all your focus on getting better. Your sponsor said he’d covered whatever you needed to get back on your feet again.”
“So how does it work?” Nicky asked.
River gestured to the laptop he’d brought along. “Figured we’d look into some nearby places, decide on a few that you’d like to visit, set up appointments, and then go road tripping.”
Nicky couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that. “The last time I went road tripping with you, we ended up taking that spicy hot chicken challenge, and it took more than a week for my taste buds to grow back.”
“Yeah, but that was the best tasting chicken ever,” River reminded him.
“Yeah,” Nicky had to admit. “It was.”
Nicky eyed the laptop and hesitantly typed in a few words in the search engine, having to hunt and peck with his one good hand. A low whistle escaped his lips when he saw just how many options were out there.
“Guess we’d better get comfortable.”
“No shit,” Nicky grumbled, but he focused on the task.
For hours they read through websites, and River took down notes. It seemed like all of the ones that really caught Nicky’s attention were inland, far from the pull of the sea.
A little too far, for River’s way of thinking.
“This isn’t quite what I had in mind. That’s a long way away,” River pointed out as Nicky insisted he write down the name of yet another center, and then fill out the form, seeking more information from them.
Nicky was quiet a moment, looking everywhere but at River’s face before speaking again. “What if I don’t want to go somewhere close? What if I want to go far away from here?”
“How far you talking?” River asked.
“Three hours, maybe four?” Nicky said.
“I wouldn’t exactly call that far away, but it does seem like you’re running away. Why would you wanna be somewhere that far from all your friends?”
Nikki shrugged. “I fucked things up with Gray, and I’m pretty sure Vic is sick of me. Terry… I just…it’s too complicated, and no one but Jason even bothered stopping by after the first week I was home, so fuck them. If I’m gonna go, I might as well just go. Plus, you said I needed to focus on getting better,” Nicky pointed out.
“Way to use my words against me,” River grumbled.
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not, and that’s okay. When the information comes in, I’ll help you go through it, okay?”
“Thanks, River,” Nicky said, giving him a ghost of a smile. “Hey, at least we get to road trip once I’ve picked one.”
“Sure, but when you’re better you’re driving us to Baja for a
surfing weekend.”
For a moment, Nicky looked startled, then slowly nodded. “You’re on.”
They spent the rest of the evening sending emails to various places, filled with Nicky’s questions and concerns. River just hoped he was doing the right thing. Helping Nicky get so far away hadn’t been part of the plan, but if it ended up helping him in the end, the good would certainly outweigh the bad. If only he could be certain that Nicky wasn’t playing him the same way he’d played Terry.
Chapter Twelve
Dusty, sun-scorched fields went past at a leisurely speed and Nicky was grateful that River wasn’t in a rush. The drive was soothing, and the thump of drums, rhythmic and loud, filled the car as Black Veil Brides pumped from the CD player. For the first time in months, Nicky felt normal. It was a relief to have all the bandages and casts removed, and while a few of the deeper gouges and cuts were still tender, and his arm and shoulder constantly throbbed, he was grateful to no longer feel like a mummy.
Shifting in his seat, he groaned as his leg spasmed. Rearranging its position even with the seat pushed all the way back was a chore, and he caught River’s anxious glance and tried to grin to reassure him. He knew he failed when River pulled over at the next rest stop, by a hilly area that looked down upon a small town. Nicky could see horses racing across a meadow and wished he’d found an opportunity to learn to ride. Of course, thinking about horses made him think about Gray and guilt stabbed at him almost as much as the pain in his leg as River helped him get settled at one of the many scattered picnic tables.
“I promise you won’t miss your bike so much from the back of a horse,” Gray assured him, eyes filled with concern as he stared at Nicky. Gray was lying on his side, while Nicky struggled to get comfortable on his back.
Nicky stared off into the night as he listened to the surf rolling in and imagined riding the waves, but it never took long for the realization to hit that he wouldn’t be riding anything again. He dismissed Gray’s offer.
“Hey, you okay?” River’s voice cut in, interrupting the memory and drawing Nicky back to the present.
“Was just thinking about how stupid it was to turn down Gray’s offer to take me horseback riding,” Nicky said. “I always wanted to learn, but with Terry being allergic I never bothered. I hated doing stuff alone.”
“I hear you there. You wouldn’t believe how relieved I was to learn that you surfed. There are always people on the beach and shit, but it’s different when you go with friends. Something about sitting on the dunes, waxing boards, and reminiscing about old waves that most people wouldn’t understand. You know this rehab place has horses; so you might still get the chance to learn.”
“Maybe. I still don’t see how I’d ever get on one if I can’t stand.”
River chuckled at that. “Next time I see you, you’ll probably be doing backflips or something.”
River’s words sank in. It was going to be months before he saw his friend again—any of his friends, or home, or Gray; and he had no way of knowing if Gray would actually write to him once Vic gave him the address. Hell, for all he knew Gray had already moved on and found himself someone who would actually be grateful for his attention and appreciate his concern. Nicky thought of asking for River’s phone and calling, but he didn’t think he could handle knowing Gray had replaced him on top of everything else he was already feeling today. Relief warred with fear, anxiety with the calm that had washed over him as soon as they’d left the valley behind. Nicky knew River was right. He needed to think about his future. He just wished he felt as certain as River that he still had one.
A cold sandwich and a can of soda were pressed into his hands. River had taken off the cellophane wrapping, so all he had to do was eat it. The turkey, lettuce, cucumber, and tomatoes tasted good—fresh and cool—and he smiled his thanks. When they were done eating, they lay on the picnic tables side by side, staring up at the sky.
“When this is all over, what’s the one thing you wanna do?” River asked.
“Just one?” Nicky chuckled. “I can think of five without even trying.”
“Yeah?” River asked. “Okay, five then. Tell me?”
“I want to hug someone: total bear hug without anything hurting. I want to play paintball, even if it’s just from a sniper’s perch. I really miss the rush, you know? I want to go to the beach and have a barbecue. The whole deal—beers, steaks, s’mores—then fall asleep trying to scare the hell out of each other with stories about old ghost ships. I wanna go camping and spend a week in the woods, go fishing each morning and waste the afternoons in a hammock, watching the clouds and listening to music. And I want to go on a road trip, somewhere farther than just halfway across the state. I wanna see someplace different in winter, so we can see snow. I’ve always wanted to see it, and not just those little flurries we sometimes get in the hills. I mean full on snowstorm, snowmobile-riding kind of shit.”
“I was right there with you until you got to the part about the snow.” River shivered. “You can drag Vic along for that; I prefer my balls without frostbite.”
Nicky laughed. “You ever think about leaving the valley?” He raised his good hand and lazily traced the outline of a cloud.
River shifted and grunted. “Sometimes. I always kinda wanted to go overseas, see Ireland, Scotland, and Wales where my family is from. Never thought about leaving for good though.” River rolled onto his side so he could study Nicky more closely. “Hey, you’re not planning on running away? ’Cause Vic would have my hide if I drop you off and you vanished on us.”
“What do you think I’m gonna do, wheel myself up the highway?”
“You never know. As long as you didn’t need to take any left turns you could manage.”
Nicky laughed. He closed his eyes and imagined that they were road tripping for a million other reasons besides getting his broken body to rehab. The warmth of the sun and the cool breezes washed over him, and the next thing Nicky knew, River was gently shaking him awake.
“Come on. We better get back on the road before it gets too late.”
Blinking, Nicky looked. It had cooled off a little and the sun wasn’t that high. “Crap, did you fall asleep too?”
“Yeah. Like being on the beach. It was too nice to stay awake, plus the sandwiches, Coke, and cake were pretty filling.”
Nicky shivered and used his good arm to help him sit up. River helped him the rest of the way off the table and they made the journey back down to the car, River keeping a firm hold on Nicky’s wheelchair.
“Maybe one day we’ll come back here,” Nicky said with one last longing look at the view.
River grunted with the effort of controlling the chair. “Who knows? Maybe.”
Back in the car, Nicky tried to relax in the seat again, letting his head rest against the window while the songs on the radio helped eat up the remaining miles.
“Hey,” River said suddenly, glancing over at Nicky, who was watching the clouds. “Do you remember the time Dean caught us trying to install nitrous in a Dune Buggy?”
Laughing, Nicky turned away from the window and turned the radio down. “Whose dumbass idea was that anyway?”
“I’m pretty sure it was Jason’s.”
“I thought Dean was gonna blow a gasket,” Nicky admitted. “It was bad enough we were all there after hours with the lights on and the radio cranked, but between the nitrous and the lift kit we used on the back end…”
River banged on the steering wheel, his laughter mingling with Nicky’s. “Oh my God, I forgot about that part.”
“Dean never did. Every time I asked if I could stay late to work on something he threw that back in my face.”
“Man, I’m glad I’ve never asked about any afterhours projects. He’d probably remind me about the night I crashed that silver Camaro through the east bay door.”
Nicky’s sides hurt, he was laughing so hard. “Wish I could have been there to see it. How the hell did you manage that anyway?”
“Slipp
ed it in the wrong gear. I was supposed to move it forward; ended up putting it in reverse and going right through the door. Might not have happened if I hadn’t been revving the engine and showing off.”
“Oh, now the truth comes out. That explains it then.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
In the End came on, and River cranked the radio, him and Nicky singing along. One song led to another, the wind whipping around them as they lost themselves in heavy metal. It ate up the miles and only seemed to enhance the mood. By the time they pulled up to the facility Nicky was so relaxed that River had helped him out of the car and up to the desk to check in before the nerves actually hit. Wasn’t much left to do then but sign some papers and hug River goodbye.
“I know you insisted on leaving your cell phone behind, so I got you this,” River told him, and placed the bundle in Nicky’s lap. Inside were pens, paper, envelopes, and stamps.
Nicky was so touched by the simple gift that he hugged River again before finally allowing an attendant to wheel him to his room.
***
Vic drove to the diner, marveling at the mountain view. Why he’d never come up here before he didn’t know; only that he’d gotten stuck in a rut, returning time after time to the places he knew. He’d never been one for trying new places alone, anyway. He’d always felt more comfortable with a friend by his side. The stars were just beginning to shimmer, and Vic found himself wishing he’d brought up a tent and sleeping bag so he could spend the night in the woods once he was done talking to Gray. A part of him wondered why he was bothering. Nicky still refused to call Gray, so Vic had been filling him in on Nicky’s progress, or lack thereof, but that was no way to build a relationship if Gray was even still interested in Nicky.
Vic had to admit that deep down he knew why. Nicky had truly been brokenhearted when he’d ended things with Gray, and Vic had admired the way Gray had stood by Nicky until he’d been ordered away. As much as he wished he could have Nicky as his own, the accident had built a wall between them that Vic doubted would ever come down, and somewhere in all of that, he’d come to realize that he valued Nicky’s friendship far too much to ever cross the line into relationship territory. Nicky needed a firmer hand than Vic could ever have with him, and the last thing he wanted was to be another ex-boyfriend.