“I like the way your mind works, but we have about thirty people who won’t hesitate to smash through my front door.”
“Remind me again why you decided to have a party tonight?”
“Because my mom is gone for the night, Chris’s brother bought us a keg of beer, and who else is going to give the preppy kids somewhere to let loose and disobey their families?”
“Fine,” I surrender, flopping my arms out to the side. “Let’s go get our party on. Just promise me that you won’t invite Marybeth to the next party you have.” My lips curl as though I just smelled something bad and Devin smiles, only this time his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, it fades as though he just realized something.
“What’s wrong?” Sitting up, I wrap the sheet around my chest.
Devin slides off the bed, grabs his boxers and jeans off the floor, and tugs them on without saying a word. My stomach churns at the forlorn look on his face, and I scramble from the bed, moving close to him.
“Devin, what’s wrong?” My mind races with an endless amount of possibilities as to why he suddenly looks so defeated. Did he not enjoy what we shared? Did I somehow disappoint him?
“Shit,” he hisses, stepping away from me. My arms hang limp at my sides as I watch and wait for him to say whatever it is that’s on his mind. “I was trying to tell you something before”—he waves his hand absently at the bed—“before …”
“Before we made love,” I state, stepping in front of him. He must catch the look of anxiety on my face because his eyes soften and he blows out a long breath. Reaching out, he hooks his arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his chest.
“I was trying to tell you something and I didn’t get a chance to, and it’s big, Katie. I wanted to tell you before we—”
I laugh. “Made love. Come on, Devin, it’s not that hard to say.”
“It makes me sound like a pussy.” I giggle against his chest and he mumbles a curse. “Fine. I wanted to tell you before we made love, because it’s important.”
“Okay.” Pulling out of his arms, I give him a curious glance. “So tell me now.”
Gripping my shoulders, Devin nudges me back on the bed before wiping his hands on the front of his jeans. “Okay. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it.”
“Devin, you’re scaring me.”
“We’re moving, Katie. Mom and I are moving.”
My brows furrow as my mind works to process what he just said. “You’re moving? Like to the country, or across town?”
Devin’s face falls and he shakes his head. My chest constricts painfully. “Pennsylvania.”
“What?” Jumping from the bed, I shake my head as my throat starts to clog. “What do you mean you’re moving to Pennsylvania? Y-you can’t move.” Clutching my hand above my heart, I rub absently over a dull ache. “She can’t just up and move. W-why would she do that? What’s in Pennsylvania?”
My chin trembling causes my lips to tilt downward, and I spin away, trying to maintain some sort of composure. Devin’s hand snaps out, grabbing my arm. He tugs until my back is pressed against his chest, and then he wraps his arms around me and props his head on my shoulder. “I hate this, Kit Kat.” A sob tears from my throat at his use of the nickname he gave me in elementary school. Tears roll down my face and I reach up to wipe them away. “Trust me, the thought of leaving here—of leaving you—rips my heart out, and if there was any way for me to stay, I would.”
My mind races with solutions, because he can’t leave. He’s my best friend … he’s the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. “What about Chris?” Turning in his arms, I rest my hands against his chest. Chris is Devin’s best friend, and Chris’s parents love Dev. “I’m sure his parents would let you stay and finish out the year, and—” My words die off in my throat when Devin shakes his head. “Why not?”
“Katie,” he whispers, cupping my face in his hands. “I can’t let my mom move alone. She needs me.”
“You guys don’t even get along,” I grumble, taking a step back. “She treats you like shit.” Devin’s eyes widen and I want to apologize for the harshness of my words, but I can’t because they’re true. Too many times I’ve sat talking with him over some stupid stunt his mom pulled. I’ve watched him nearly break down time and time again over the way she’s treated him and now this. Now she’s just going to rip him away from his entire life—from the only life he’s ever known?
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, but it doesn’t work. Adrenaline, anger, confusion, and sadness … they’re all running through my veins at warp speed. I can’t seem to make sense of any of it, and I need some time to sort through all of this. Everything I thought I knew just changed. My foreseeable future just shifted, tilting my world on its axis, and I need to get a grip on myself before I can get a grip on the situation.
Grabbing my underwear and skirt from the floor, I slip them on.
“Katie?”
Scurrying around the bed, I look for my shirt. I know it’s around here somewhere; it couldn’t have gone that far. The power of Devin’s stare weighs heavily on my back. He’s following me around the room, I can feel it. I spot the gauzy material on the floor, along with my bra, and snatch them both up.
Devin steps in front of me as I slip on my bra. “Katie, please talk to me. Don’t do this; don’t go quiet on me.”
“I’m not going quiet.” Tugging the shirt over my head, I run my hands down the material, a feeble attempt at pulling myself together. “I just need … a minute.”
Devin’s eyebrows nearly touch his hairline. “You need a minute? No”—he shakes his head and reaches for me, but I dodge him—“what you need is to talk to me. We will work this out. It’s only temporary. I’ll be eighteen this winter, and as soon as I can, I’ll come back. This isn’t the end … please don’t think that.”
“Isn’t it?” I ask, whirling around on him. “You’re moving to Pennsylvania, Dev. That’s like a thousand miles away.”
“Eight hundred,” he mumbles.
“Great!” I toss my hands up in exasperation. “You’ve already looked it up, which means you’ve known for a while.”
“No,” he states firmly. “She sprung this on me yesterday morning. I tried to tell you earlier, but we were—”
“You know what, never mind.” I’m confused. So confused. I just gave myself to Dev and I wouldn’t change that for the world, but somehow it seems so insignificant in light of all of this. He’s leaving. Leaving. My stomach dips and then rolls as I fight back a wave of nausea.
Devin has been a big part of my life for as long as I can remember, and just the thought of him not being here every day—not being able to drive over to his house and see him anytime I want, or kiss him anytime I want—makes my chest physically hurt. I’ve never been shot before, and I hope like hell I never do, but this sharp pain in my stomach must be what it feels like.
Slipping my feet in my sandals, I haul ass toward the door. Devin rushes up behind me, slamming his hand against the solid wood, shutting it before I can slip out. His body is hot against mine, his breathing ragged, and guilt ripples through me. He’s the one that’s leaving … he’s the one that has to start over, and here I am acting like this.
“Katie, please hear me when I tell you that this doesn’t change anything.”
“You’re wrong,” I say with a sigh. “This changes everything.” And by everything, I mean that nothing will be the same. I don’t mean it won’t work, because I do believe that if we want it badly enough and try hard enough, we can make it work. But it won’t be easy. It’s something that we’ll need to sit down and hash out, but right now I just need to collect my thoughts.
“Please don’t do this.” His pleading voice is almost my undoing—almost. But I know that I need to step away and calm down before I ruin the very best thing in my life.
“I just need to process this. It’s a lot to take in.”
“We can make it work,
Katie. I promise you, I’ll come back.”
“I believe you that we can make it work if we both try hard enough.”
Devin’s body stiffens behind me. “What’s that supposed to mean? You make it sound like I wouldn’t work at it.”
Whirling around, I plant my hands on my hips. “Your mom hasn’t had a landline in years, Devin. If I want to see you or talk to you, I have to drive to your house. So explain to me what I’m supposed to do when you’re eight hundred miles away.”
His shoulders drop, and I can tell that he didn’t think of that. “Now, will you please take me home?”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I want to spend every second I can with you, because we’re leaving on Sunday.”
“What?” I squeal, my eyes nearly popping out of my head. Great. This just keeps getting worse. “I—wh—ho—FUCK!” This isn’t happening. How do I fight this? How in the hell are we supposed to make it work with such little time to even talk about it or prepare? Threading my fingers in my hair, I grip it tightly. “Sunday? You’re leaving on Sunday?” My voice rises with each word, along with my blood pressure. “I can’t believe this.” My pulse is hammering so hard in my ears that it’s giving me a headache, and my chin hurts from the uncontrollable trembling.
“Katie!” A loud knock sounds on the bedroom door, and I wonder who in the world managed to get into Devin’s house. “Katie, are you okay in there?” My body sags in relief at the sound of Wyatt’s voice. Several other voices filter through the air, and I roll my eyes because the last thing I need right now is an audience.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Devin growls. Stepping around me, he flings the door open. “What?” he barks, the tone of voice causing Wyatt to take a step back.
“He’s my friend and I invited him.” Wyatt watches the two of us hesitantly, but when I walk straight up to him, he opens his arms without thinking twice. Burying my face in his chest, my emotions get the best of me. They boil low in my belly, slowly working their way up until a strangled cry rips from my throat. Wyatt’s arm wraps around my shoulder, but I notice that he leaves the other one hanging loose at his side. Probably a smart idea if he doesn’t want it ripped off.
“Enough.” A strong hand wraps around my arm and I’m yanked away from Wyatt. “Move,” Devin seethes. Wyatt steps out of the way when Devin takes off down the hall, pulling me behind him.
“Let her go.”
“Fuck off, cowboy.” Devin laughs when Wyatt doesn’t come back with more, but I’m not really surprised. These two men, my very first two friends, haven’t liked each other since day one. Devin has always been a little jealous and Wyatt a little intimidated, but they’ve managed to keep the peace for my sake … well, mostly.
“Where are you taking me?” I try to pull from his grasp, but he holds on with ease. I finally decide that it’ll be easier to just follow behind. We garner several strange looks when Devin drags me through the living room and right out the front door without a word to anyone. Tossing his car door open, he pours me inside then stalks around his car and slides into the driver’s seat. It’s a short drive to my house, but long enough for my anger to drain and be replaced with a mixture of guilt, sadness and regret.
If there is one thing I do know, it’s that Devin is and always will be my best friend, and I love him more than I will ever love any other man. Gravel crunches under the weight of his car as we pull down my lane, and I shift in my seat to face him.
“I’m sorry.” Dropping my head to the seat, I wait for him to look over at me but he doesn’t, not even after he throws the car in park.
“I can’t believe you.”
Closing my eyes, I rub a hand down my face. “I know,” I concede. “I shouldn’t have told you I needed time … that wasn’t fair of me. But in my defense, I was overwhelmed. I just wanted a second to process this and put it all in perspective.”
“Not that.” Finally, he looks over at me, but I don’t see any sort of affection, just a distant stare. “You went to Wyatt.”
“Huh?”
“I wanted to hold you and talk to you, but you walked away from me. You went straight to Wyatt. My heart was fucking breaking right along with yours and you walked into that prick’s arms.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. That wasn’t it at all … was it? “I’m sorry, I wasn’t tryi—”
“You should’ve walked into my arms. You should’ve let me hold you and comfort you because I’m your fucking boyfriend, Katie. I’m the one that has to say goodbye to the one person that keeps me anchored to this fucking earth. Do you honestly think I want to move with her? Do you honestly think I wouldn’t choose you in a heartbeat?”
The tight band around my heart pops and I lurch forward, gripping his face in my hands. “You’re right. I was wrong … so wrong.” My nose burns with tears, and they quickly build and then fall from my eyes. “Please forgive me,” I beg. Guilt churns in my stomach, knotting it up. I can’t believe I acted like that. What the hell was I thinking? I can’t push him away, and I definitely can’t lose him.
Needing to be close to him, I climb over the gearshift and straddle his hips. Pushing my hands through his hair, I pull him toward me until we’re nose to nose. “Tell me you know how much I love you and that you know how sorry I am for earlier. Tell me you know that I will find a way to make this work.”
Swallowing hard, Devin’s eyes penetrate mine. They’re glistening under the dull light of the moon shining through the window. “I know you love me, and I know you’re sorry. Trust me, I had nearly the same reaction when Mom told me. I didn’t handle it well at all.” I can see in his eyes that he’s being sincere. That’s one thing about Devin and me; we’ve been friends for so long that I can read him like a book. “And I know we’ll find a way to make it work, because there isn’t another option.”
All the breath is robbed from my lungs when he says what my heart feels. There really isn’t any other option. Devin and I are meant to be together.
January 2006
(Ten Years Later)
“Gone Too Soon” – Simple Plan
“WHEN IS SHE GOING TO wake up?” The strangled voice of a woman rings loudly in my ears, and the thick fog surrounding me slowly dissipates. “I need her to wake up.” This time the broken voice is much clearer and I instantly recognize it. Mom?
A shiver of fear runs through my body and I fight to move, but something or someone seems to be holding me down. Why are you crying? Mom!
“All of her scans came back normal. She’ll wake up, Mrs. Devora, I assure you. She’s been through a traumatic experience and her body is allowing itself time to heal.” I’m not sure who that voice belongs to, but the foreign accent sounds oddly familiar. And what the hell does he mean I’ve been through a traumatic experience?
“You keep saying that, but she keeps sleeping. I’ve already lost so much, Dr. Cantrell … I can’t lose her too.” Wait, what is she talking about? Where am I, and why the hell won’t my eyes open?
Darkness slowly starts to creep in around me, and before I even have a chance to struggle against it, I’m whisked into unconsciousness …
My entire body feels heavy and weak. I try to turn my head, but a sharp pain pierces the side of my temple. I whimper but nothing comes out … no sound at all. What the hell is going on? Why can’t I move? How long have I been asleep?
“Go home, Wyatt, get some rest. I’ll call you if she wakes up.” Mom’s voice floats through the air seconds before I feel a warm hand—presumably hers—stroke the side of my head.
“I’m not leaving her. I won’t leave her.” Wyatt’s voice sounds unyielding yet strained, and when it cracks, I frantically push against the darkness that seems to have taken control of my body. Wyatt! Oh, Wyatt.
I concentrate hard, desperately trying to make a sound or move my fingers, but nothing happens. I growl in frustration—at least I try to.
“Honey, you have to be exhausted. You’ve be
en working so hard and spending every spare second here. You need to get a good night’s sleep.” No! Don’t leave. Please don’t leave!
Somewhere in the midst of my struggles, I hear a chair being slid across the floor and then two warm hands wrap around my right hand, drawing it upward. I’m intimately familiar with those hands and his touch alone seems to calm the panic that had been bubbling inside of me—for now, anyway. “Brenda, I’m not leaving until she leaves with me...” Wyatt’s voice trails off, along with my mind, as I’m sucked back into the shadows of the unknown.
A soft hum drifts through the air. This whole in and out and not being able to move is frustrating the hell out of me, but this time I’m too exhausted to try. The humming continues, and with a touch so gentle that I barely feel it, my fingers are lifted off the bed and entwined with someone else’s. The hand is soft and delicate, and I instantly know by the size and lack of calluses that it doesn’t belong to Wyatt.
The muffled voice that first woke me up gets clearer and clearer. I try hard not to fight against the wall that’s holding me captive, instead hoping that if I stay relaxed, it will lift on its own. I envision myself taking a deep, cleansing breath as my mind follows the voice. “Wake up, sweetheart,” she says in between humming her sweet tune. “Please wake up.”
I’m trying, Mom. I promise you, I’m trying.
Her silky voice starts singing the same song she sang to me when I’d get sick as a child. The words are like a balm for my soul—so sweet and comforting that I allow myself to get lost in them.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine—” Her words cut off and everything around me goes eerily still and quiet.
What is she doing? Why did she stop singing?
“Do it again, Katie,” Mom says with a hint of a smile in her voice. “Move your fingers for me.”
I moved my fingers? Really?
“That’s it, Katie.” Mom’s voice is joyfully high, and I picture her jumping up and down, cheering like she used to do at my softball games. I hear a sequence of loud, solid beeps at the same time I feel my heart pound violently inside my chest. A steady ‘woosh-woosh-woosh’ pulses behind my ears.
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