The Last Word

by Everly Lucas

  I’m not convinced, but I’m not worried, either. If Danny doesn’t show, I will hunt the fucker down. Tomorrow night, whether he likes it or not, he and I are having a conversation that’s long overdue.

  Thirteen

  When I got to class this morning, Erin wasn’t in her usual spot. Instead of having her next to me, smelling like apples, I got that ginger kid, who reeked of shitty weed.

  Much as I hate it, I’m glad she made the switch. I don’t think I could’ve been near her without trying to convince her to love me again…or fucking her brains out in front of God and everyone in the room.

  What she doesn’t know is how hard I plan to fight for her. Tonight is the first battle.

  The night of the crash, Danny and I both made choices that changed our lives forever. I take full responsibility for my part in the way shit played out. And if I’d never seen Erin again, never laughed with her again, never made love to her, I could’ve lived with my choice. I made a promise to Danny, and I swear, I intended to keep it. But that’s not an option, anymore. Erin is my only option.

  On the Kennys’ block, the backyards are detached from the houses, separated by an alleyway. Their yard is closed off by overgrown hedges and a chain-link fence, and the rusted metal screeches as I swing the gate open. The scent of tobacco leads me to the back of the small yard, where Danny leans against an old oak tree with a silver can to his lips.

  I cross my arms over my chest, hopefully making myself appear tougher than I feel. “You know, people on pain meds shouldn’t drink alcohol.”

  He shakes the can, only a small amount of liquid sloshing at the bottom, and tosses it on the ground to join its fallen brothers. “Yeah, well, good thing I don’t take them anymore.” I’m about to call bullshit, when he tacks on, “Too expensive.”

  Which means he’s moved on to cheaper and deadlier highs.

  A garage door opens, followed by the sound of plastic trash cans being dragged over concrete. Whoever’s out there triggers a motion-sensor spotlight mounted to the back of one of the houses. Even through the shadow cast by the oak tree, the light reaches Danny. It isn’t kind to him.

  This is not the guy I knew in high school. Back then, he took care of himself, made sure he looked good at all times. He kept his hair short, so no one would see how curly it could get. He’d run at least five miles every morning before school and spend an hour in the gym after the last bell. Confidence came natural to him. Yeah, sometimes he put up a front, but mostly he knew what he wanted and knew he could get it.

  Now, the sight of him breaks my heart. His hair is unclean and reaches past his shoulders. My guess is he hasn’t bothered cutting it in a while. Or washing it. He’s lost all the muscles he used to work so hard for, and his clothes hang loosely off his lanky frame. Dark under-eye circles, sallow skin, hollow cheeks…

  I’ve seen before-and-after pictures of drug addicts, but none of them were this drastic. Or maybe the changes seem more extreme because I know Danny. Well, knew him. The man in front of me may as well be a stranger.

  “Jesus, Danny…”

  “Save it. Just say whatever the fuck you came to say.” He takes the cigarette tucked behind his left ear and puts it to his lips. Even using both hands to work the lighter, he struggles, reminding me what Erin said about impaired fine-motor skills.

  “I’m telling Erin the truth. I thought you should know.”

  With a shaking hand, he pulls the lit cigarette from his mouth, flicks ash on the ground, and blows out a cloud of grey smoke. “She’ll never believe you.”

  “Maybe not, but I have to try.” Especially now. With my promotion, I’ll finally have something to offer her—a future, security, and a better life than the one she has now.

  “She hates you,” he spits out, his voice as shaky as his hand.

  “No, man. She doesn’t.”

  Erin can say she hates me a million times. She can scream it ’til her throat bleeds, trying to convince me, the world, herself…but I know better, now. I knew it as soon as she strolled into class with that ring still on her right finger—heart facing in.

  Erin Kenny belongs to me. Always has, always will.

  “Whatever.” Danny drops his half-smoked cigarette on the grass, snuffing it out with his bare foot. The burn must force some life into him, because he lashes out, going from zero fucks to a hundred in the blink of an eye. “What is it with you with her, anyway? You know, I always wondered if you were ever really my friend or if you were just using me to get to my sister.”

  “Danny, that’s crazy. I—”

  “I’m not crazy!” His voice carries through the yard and across the empty alleyway, loud enough to rile up a few neighborhood dogs and get them barking. “You guys always acted like you had some secret I wasn’t in on. Some inside joke that made you laugh more with her than you did with me. Every fucking time she was around, I was your pathetic third wheel.”

  With short, jerky movements, he pushes back strands of hair that fell over his face. “And you weren’t even together. I knew it’d only get worse for me if I let that happen. I knew it even when we were kids, when you said you liked her. So I told you it was her or me.”

  “No, you said it was you or nothing. Either I chose you or I could kiss your whole family goodbye. That wasn’t even an option for me, and you knew it.”

  “Can you blame me? You would’ve picked her, and where would that’ve left me?”

  “Is that what all this was about? You saw your sister as competition? Fuck.” My hands fly up, reaching for his neck, but I force myself to step back and throw them down, fisting them at my sides. Fighting to keep my volume in check, I speak through gritted teeth. “If you’d just talked to me—if you’d trusted me—we could’ve hashed that shit out. Instead, you threw a tantrum and almost got us both killed. And now look at you. You’re a fucking mess.”

  “Like you give a shit about me.”

  God, I wish he were right. If I didn’t care, I could look at him now, at how far he’s fallen, and be satisfied that Karma did her damn job. But I’m not built that way. The little kid I raced Big Wheels with didn’t choose to become an addict. Who would? I’m not about to turn my back on him just because he lost his way. In our darkest moments, loyalty doesn’t cower—it steps the fuck up.

  “I gave a shit then, and I do now. You and Erin, you were practically the only family I had, so of course I fucking care. But you’ve gotta clean yourself up, man. If you want my help, I’m here for you. All you have to do is ask.” What I don’t tell him is that I plan on helping him whether he asks or not. That part is out of his control. “I didn’t throw away my life just so you could waste yours.”

  Lips drawn tight, Danny lets his head fall back against the jagged, grey bark. His chin quivers and his eyes close, and I take this as my cue to walk away. He and I aren’t done—not by a long shot—and I think he knows that. But right now, I’m on a mission.

  Tomorrow night, I make Erin Kenny my girl, once and for all.

  Fourteen

  The event I worked tonight ran late, and someone’s clunker broke down on the Schuylkill Expressway, so I don’t pull up in front of my house until after midnight.

  My ankle throbs in its bandage. The pain of standing for almost fifteen hours straight has worked its way from my toes to my scalp and everywhere in between. The pounding in my head only amplifies when I remember I get to do it all again tomorrow. First at class, then Bar Night—the “on the job” training we receive after completing the course.

  I’m a hands-on kind of girl, so I’d been psyched about getting behind a real bar and putting my new skills to the test. Now, I just want to get it over with.

  Then again, once tomorrow night ends, so does my time with Van.

  I twist my ring back and forth on my finger. Even after I yelled at him yesterday and promised myself I was through with him, I couldn’t bring myself to take this ring off. Blame it on my stubborn nature or the fact that every time I move, the bruises on my in
ner thighs inspire vivid memories of our mind-blowing sex. Either way, I’m not ready to accept defeat.

  He’s keeping something from me—something huge, I can feel it. Tomorrow night, he either fesses up or he loses me for good. For real, this time.

  My house is situated near the end of a block of row homes. Tomorrow is trash day, so I limp around the corner to the back to pull our bins to the end of the driveway. This is supposed to be Dad’s job, but he forgets more often than he remembers.

  Slipping between the Fergusons’ garage and their minivan, I freeze at the sound of two male voices coming from their backyard. Or maybe that’s my backyard.

  One of the voices is too deep and speaks too softly for me to make out any words, but the other is Danny’s.

  I’ve caught him back there before, drinking and getting high with his so-called friends, and that’s a scene I prefer to avoid as much as possible. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I keep my uneven steps light as I sneak the rest of the way to my back door. I’ll just have to wake up early to pull the bins to the curb.

  My hand reaches the brass doorknob just as Danny shouts, “I'm not crazy!” making my heartbeat stutter in my chest.

  What the hell is going on back there?

  My instincts scream at me to keep going, to head inside and take that long, hot shower I’ve fantasized about all night. But there was terror in my brother’s voice. What if whoever he’s with is hurting him? Whatever else he is these days, he’s still my brother. Anyone who messes with Danny Kenny messes with me.

  Fishing around in my bag for my cell phone, I creep down the driveway and across the alley, into the Fergusons’ postage-stamp-sized yard. The flood of light from our other next-door neighbor’s house doesn’t reach this far, so I stay cloaked in darkness. Crouching behind one of the bushes separating our two yards, I grip my phone in my right hand, thumb poised and ready to dial 9-1-1.

  I inch forward to survey the scene through a dead patch in the hedge and almost fall flat on my face when I see the man talking to my brother.

  Van.

  My heart had already been beating triple time, but at the sight of Van Woods, the crazy organ shifts into high gear.

  What the hell is he doing here in the middle of the night? This has “super shady” written all over it, and of course, I’m curious as fuck. But I’m in time to catch only the last line, spoken by Van.

  “I didn’t throw away my life just so you could waste yours.” With that, he turns, crosses the yard, and pushes through the unlatched gate.

  I stand and watch his tall, dark frame retreat down the alley. As soon as I’m sure he’s out of earshot, I jog from the Fergusons’ yard to my own, wincing with every other step.

  When my brother sees me, he slides down the rough tree trunk, sinking to the ground and pulling his knees to his chest.

  “Why was Van here, Danny?”

  He buries his face between his knees. If he’s trying to hide or hoping I’ll go away if he ignores me, he clearly doesn’t know me at all.

  “What did he mean about throwing his life away?” When he still doesn’t respond or even look at me, I hobble closer and drop to my knees in front of him. “Answer me.”

  Without lifting his head, he speaks in the direction of the ground, his voice tinny and trembling. “I can’t tell you. You’ll hate me forever.”

  “Damnit, Danny. I’ll hate you forever if you don’t tell me.” That’s not true, of course. No matter how much I want to sometimes, I could never hate my brother. But I’m not above emotional blackmail at this point. “I’ll only ask one more time. What were you and Van talking about just now?”

  Propping his elbows on his knees, he rests his head in his hands, pushing his hair back from his face. “When I woke up in the hospital, my memory was all jacked up. I didn’t remember the accident or prom or that whole week. So when you guys told me Van got drunk and crashed my truck, I took your word for it.” His throat bobs on a hard swallow. “But after a while, bits and pieces started coming back to me. Even though everything was still foggy, I knew…that wasn’t how shit went down.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Van wasn’t driving that night.” His eyes finally meet mine, but only for the span of one shaky breath, before he drops his gaze again. “I was.”

  My whole world crumbles at his confession, the pieces skittering on the ground, lost and helpless, trying to reassemble themselves to fit this new knowledge. This new truth.

  Van is innocent.

  But… “That doesn’t make sense. The officer who met us at the hospital that night, he said Van confessed to him, that he took responsibility for the whole thing.”

  “Yeah, he confessed, but that doesn’t make him guilty.”

  I try to push to my feet, but my head spins, and I tumble back down.

  Danny crawls to me and takes one of my hands in both of his, holding it in a death grip, even as I try to rip it away. “It was all my fault. The whole thing. It’s just, at the party, when he told me about you two, I…I was too fucked up to handle it. I just remember needing to escape, and then I was in my truck, and Van was there, trying to talk me down, to get me to pull over, but I was too goddamn stubborn and selfish and…” His voice grows thicker the deeper he slides into the memory. Tears cascade down his cheeks, a few landing on our locked hands. “I’m so sorry, Erin. I should’ve told you. I wanted to tell you, but—”

  “But what?” I break free of his grasp, wiping my hand on my black pants. “You let your best friend go to prison for you. Oh, God. He was in there for a year, thinking we all hated him. He must’ve felt so alone.” This time, when I surge to my feet, I manage to stay on them. My stomach churns, acid rising in my throat and flooding my mouth. “What possible excuse could you have for not speaking up?”

  On his knees at my feet, Danny pulls small clumps of grass from the ground and avoids my accusing glare. “I was scared. At that point, I couldn’t even wipe my own ass. I needed you and Mom and Dad for everything. What if I’d told you and you ended up hating me as much as you hated Van?”

  I put myself in his shoes…into his broken, helpless body…and feel instant sympathy. Like me, Danny has always been self-reliant. Growing up, even though he was already busy with school and track and helping around the house, he always had a job. Delivering papers, shoveling snow, busing tables, pumping gas. He was determined to be as independent as possible.

  His truck—the one that ended up smashed through a store window—was paid for one hundred percent by him. Insurance and everything.

  He talked about Penn State like it was his chance to finally live his own life. He never wanted to be a burden on anyone, but after the crash, that’s exactly what he was. A burden. In his mind, anyway.

  And he’s right about me being so quick to hate Van, someone I’d loved my whole life. Our parents, too. Why wouldn’t Danny think us capable of turning on him just as fast?

  “Oh, Danny…” Sinking to my knees again, I take my brother in my arms, holding and soothing him until his sobs quiet and his trembling body calms.

  “I’m sorry, Erin. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. I get it. I do. What I don’t understand is why Van took the fall.”

  Danny wasn’t the only one ready to leave for college and start a new life. Van was born to play football, and everyone knew it. He’d had offers from Division I schools across the country, but he ended up choosing Penn State to stay close to my brother. Coaches were throwing the word “pro” around like it was a given Van would make it all the way.

  What would make him give that up?

  “It didn’t make sense to me, either,” Danny says, “until a couple years after the accident. Van sent me a three-page letter.”

  Curiosity gnaws at me. “What did he say?”

  “That the crash knocked him out, and when he came to, I was on top of him. I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, so we both ended up on the passenger side. When the c
ops showed up, I was still out cold, and he took it as a sign or something.”

  “I sign of what?”

  Wiping at his reddened eyes with the heels of his palms, Danny huffs out a breath that could almost be called a laugh, under different circumstances. “He gave some lame explanation, but I know it wasn’t the whole reason he took the bullet for me. I had two priors. I was on probation and driving on a suspended license. If I’d gone down for the crash that night, there’s no way I would’ve gotten away with no jail time. But Van’s record was clean, so…”

  I finish the sentence in my head and nod in understanding. Van must have thought he’d get a slap on the wrist. Probation and restitution, at most. Nothing compared to what they would’ve given my brother…and nothing compared to the one-to-three-year prison sentence the judge handed down.

  But that’s apparently what he didn’t say in his letter. “What was the lame explanation he gave?”

  “Something like, he figured, he didn’t have a family who’d miss him if he went away…but I did.”

  How dare Van make that choice for us? “I missed him,” I cry, pressing my hand to my chest. “I missed him so much.”

  “Yeah… Me, too.” Danny scoots back to the tree and rests against it. I follow him and do the same, holding his hand between us. “The way he wrote, he obviously thought I’d gone to college—you, too—and I felt like such a failure. He went to prison so I could make something of myself, and I let him down. I let you all down.” He rests his head on my shoulder, and I squeeze his hand.

  Not only has my brother been carrying around a huge secret for years, but he’s had to live with not meeting his best friend’s hopes and expectations for him. Every day, he’s slipped further away from the successful college track star Van assumed he’d become. The guilt and shame must’ve been all-consuming.

  Now that the secret’s out, Danny’s either freaking out, relieved, or both. Either way, this moment could be a game-changer for him. We just need to jump on this second chance we’ve all been given.