We make our way out of the bar, bumping into people the entire way. It's so crowded it takes us forever to get to the door.
"God, that feels good," Travis says, feeling the cold air hit him as we go outside.
"It does," I say, tripping on my heels.
Travis grabs my arm, steadying me. "You okay?"
"I think so. Just a little woozy from being too hot in there."
"Or from the three martinis," he says with a chuckle. He helps me into the truck.
"I probably should've stopped at two," I say as we're driving back.
"You hungry? We could get something to eat."
"No. I just want to go back and lay down." I yawn. "I'm tired."
"What? No Halloween sex?" he kids, glancing at me, still wearing that goofy pirate's hat.
"I think I could stay awake for that. I've never done it with a pirate before."
"And I've never done it with a princess good witch fairy."
I laugh. "Don't forget nymph. That's what the waitress thought I was."
"What exactly is a nymph?"
"I think it's some mythical creature that lives in the garden."
"Like a fairy."
"I think they're different but I'm not really sure. Either way, I don't think they wear hats like this. I don't know why people didn't get it. Don't I look like a princess to you?"
"You're always my little princess," he teases.
I swat his arm. "Real funny. And hey, don't ever tell anyone I did this. I'm not the princess type. That was Amy's thing. I only wore this because it's all I had."
"You could've bought a different costume."
"I had to wear the hat," I insist. "Otherwise, it'd never get used."
He smiles. "Yeah. Okay."
We get back to the garage and go up to his apartment. I collapse on the couch, kicking my heels off and tossing my hat aside. That last drink is catching up to me and I'm feeling even more woozy.
"Could you get me some water?" I say to Travis who's in the kitchen.
"Sure." He takes two bottles from the fridge and brings them to the couch, handing me one as he sits down. "Happy Halloween!" he says, holding up his water bottle.
I bump it with mine, like we're toasting, then take a big swig.
"Sorry it wasn't that great," Travis says. "Last year's party was better. It wasn't so crowded." He takes a drink of his water. "What'd you do last Halloween?"
"Slept," I say, tipping my head back to rest on the couch.
"The whole day?"
"Yeah. I wasn't going to school back then. I spent all my time in my room, mostly sleeping."
"Because of the accident," he says in a serious tone.
"Yeah." I take another swig of the water. I feel like my head is swimming in it. Like it's sloshing around in a pool of water, making me dizzy.
"When did you finally leave your room?" he asks.
I lift my head, which eases the dizziness but makes my stomach feel queasy.
"Want some crackers?" Travis asks, noticing me holding my stomach.
"Yeah. That might help."
He brings me a sleeve of saltines, ripping it open and setting it on the table in front of us. I take one and eat it, then eat another, feeling a little better.
"So when was it?" Travis asks.
"What were we talking about?" I take another cracker.
"I asked when you left your room. When did you finally go out and start doing stuff again?"
"I didn't. I stayed there until Aunt Nora made me get a job. She was sick of me being at home all the time so she made me go get a job."
"When was that?"
"Last June." I gulp down the rest of my water and set the bottle on the table.
Travis turns to me. "You didn't leave your room from September to May?"
I shrug. "Yeah, I guess. It didn't seem that long at the time. All the days just kind of blurred together. I got up to shower and went to the kitchen sometimes but that was about it."
He holds my arm. "Skye, that's seriously messed up."
"I'd just lost my cousin," I say, yanking my arm back.
"Yeah, but not leaving your room for almost a year? That's serious."
"Why are you judging me?" I cross my arms. "You always say everyone grieves at their own pace."
"Yeah, but to stay in your room that long...I can't believe your aunt and uncle didn't do something."
"Like what?" I snap.
"Get you help. Take you to counseling."
"I tried that. Didn't help. And my aunt and uncle were going through their own hell. They lost their daughter. They didn't want to have to deal with their niece, so I left them alone. Stayed in my room."
"I'm sure they were worried about you. They just didn't know how to help you."
"They didn't want to. Or maybe my uncle did but definitely not my aunt. After the accident, she hated me even more. She wished it was me who had died instead of her daughter." I lie down on my side, closing eyes because I'm feeling really sleepy.
"Skye, that's not true," I hear Travis. "Don't even think that."
"It's true." I yawn, adjusting the throw pillow under my head. "I wished the same thing. I wished it'd been me and not her."
"Skye, don't say shit like that." He pulls on my arm, lifting me back up to sitting.
"What are you doing?" I mutter, my eyes fluttering open. "I'm tired. And drunk. I need to sleep."
"You'll sleep when we're done talking. Now open your eyes."
I do, and see him sitting beside me.
"Here." He hands me his bottle of water. "Drink this so you sober up."
"I'm not thirsty. I'm tired." I set the water down on the table.
"You don't really think that, do you?"
"Think what?" I ask, sounding groggy. That last martini really hit me hard. It went straight to my head.
"You don't really wish it was you and not her, do you?"
I nod. "I did. Sometimes I...I still do."
"What?" He grabs my shoulders. "Skye, why haven't we ever talked about this before?"
"Because I'm...I'm too ashamed. I'm too afraid to tell you the truth."
"The truth about what? About wishing it was you and not Amy?"
"That. And the reason why." I look down. "Why it should've been me."
"What does that mean?"
When I don't answer, he gently shakes my shoulder. "Skye, tell me what that means."
I sigh, tired of this conversation and wanting to go to bed. I'm groggy and my head hurts. I just want to sleep.
"Skye, what do you mean it should've been you? Why would you say that?"
My shoulders sag as I pick at the lace on the hem of my dress. "I killed her." Tears drip down my cheeks. "I killed Amy."
"What the hell are you talking about? You didn't kill Amy. It was an accident. She drove off the bridge. It wasn't your fault."
"But it was." I continue to pick at the lace, running my fingers over the tiny holes like I'm trying to find a way out. A way out of this conversation. I don't like it. I don't like all the questions and the way Travis sounds when he asks them. And yet I keep talking. Why am I talking?
"Why was it your fault?" he cautiously asks.
"I told her to look at the text." I swallow, my hands working faster over the lace. "She never looked at her phone when she was driving. Never. But nobody was around that night. It was just us on the road. And I really wanted her to read the text. It was from a guy. A guy she'd been dating. She hadn't told me about him. She said she was keeping him a secret. I was mad she didn't tell me but I didn't yell at her for it because she seemed so happy, and I wanted her to be happy. She said she loved him. And right as she said it, he texted her."
"What did it say?"
"I don't know." I stare at the lace as my mind goes back to that night. "She looked at her phone and that's when we hit the rail. It all happened so fast. One second we were on the road, the next we were in the river. The car was filling with water. Amy was screaming but then she st
opped. She was knocked out so I got her seatbelt off and then I kicked the window until it broke. I got us out of the car and tried to get to shore." I drop the lace, my hands falling to my side as I stare blankly at the floor. "It was so cold. The water was so cold I could barely feel my hands. But I hung on to her. I promised her I wouldn't let go. The waves kept hitting me and the current kept pulling us away from shore. I could see it. It was so close. But I couldn't get to it. Then a wave went over me, pushing me under. When I got to the surface, she was gone."
Tears are racing down my cheeks but I'm not making a sound. The tears are silent. I'm not even feeling sad right now. I'm just numb. Completely numb as I remember that night.
"Skye," Travis says. I hear the coffee table screech and notice it being shoved back. Travis appears in front of me, kneeling down and grabbing both my hands. "Skye, look at me."
My eyes lift to his but I'm still seeing that night. The water. The current. The darkness. Her body floating away.
"This wasn't your fault," I hear Travis say. "It was an accident. You didn't kill Amy."
I nod. "But I did. I told her to read the text. And then I didn't save her. I should've held on but I didn't. I let her go." My voice cracks and I shut my eyes. "I let her go."
"You didn't let her go. The current took her. There was no way you could keep hold of her. It wasn't possible."
"It never would've happened if it weren't for me. If I'd just left her alone. If I'd ignored the text and just let her keep driving."
"Skye, you can't do this. You can't keep reliving that night, trying to change it. And you can't keep blaming yourself for something that wasn't your fault."
"But it WAS my fault." I hiccup a breath. "I killed her."
"Skye, no." He pulls me into his arms, still on his knees in front of me. "You didn't do this. It wasn't your fault."
"It was. You weren't there. You don't know. Nobody knows. Only me." I break down crying. Loud sobs. Sniffling. "Every day, I have to live with myself, knowing what I've done. That I killed her. I killed my best friend."
He squeezes me tighter. "Skye, I had no idea you felt this way." Travis jumps up, taking me with him and setting me on his lap as he sits back on the couch. He cradles me in his arms, wiping the tears from my face. "Why didn't you tell me this? We tell each other everything."
"I couldn't. I was too ashamed. I didn't want you to know." I bury my face in his shoulder and hold onto him, afraid that he'll leave me now that he knows this. Now that he knows what I've done. What a horrible person I am.
"It wasn't your fault," he says, gently rocking me, stroking my hair. "I know you think it was, but it wasn't. You didn't kill her. It was an accident. And it wasn't your job to save her. There was no way you could. I'm bigger and stronger than you and I wouldn't have been able to hold onto her either. Your hands were numb, the current was pushing you, it was too dark to see, and you were injured. There was no way you could've saved her. You were lucky you were able to save yourself."
"Lucky?" I sniffle. "I wasn't lucky. I was left without her. Left having to live with what I'd done. I wanted to go back to her. To be with her. I told her I would. I promised her."
"Be with her?" He gently pushes me back. "What do you mean be with her? She's dead."
"But I should've been too. I didn't deserve to still be alive after what I did to her. It wasn't fair."
He stares at me and I see his mind working. "You didn't..." He looks down, then back at me. "You didn't try to...hurt yourself, did you?"
My eyes shut so I don't have to look at him when I say it. "I did."
"When?" he asks. I feel his body stiffen, his leg muscles tightening under me, his chest getting flat and hard as he sits up straighter.
"The night we met."
There's silence and I'm afraid to open my eyes but I need to know what's going on. Why he's not saying anything. I'm still on his lap but his arms have slacked, no longer holding me in a tight embrace.
I slowly open my eyes and see him looking at me with a blank stare, his jaw slightly dropped.
"Travis, say something."
"You were going to jump," he says, still with that blank stare. "That's why you were on the bridge. By yourself. At night. You were going to jump."
"I didn't think I had a choice. I promised her I'd be with her again. And I couldn't take another day living without her, knowing what I'd done."
"It was an accident. It wasn't your fault. If you'd told someone this, you would've realized that." He lifts me off his lap and sets me down on the couch, then stands up and starts pacing the floor. "You were going to kill yourself. If I hadn't showed up, you would've done it. You'd be dead right now."
"That was the plan but I don't know if I would've actually done it. Right before you showed up, I started to panic. I wasn't sure I could go through with it."
"You were there," he says, still pacing. "By the rail. You would've jumped. Now I get why you were so pissed at me that night. I ruined your plan. I saved you."
I get up and go over to him. "And I'm thankful for that. At least now I am. Back then I was angry. You weren't supposed to be there."
He stops in front of me, anger filling his eyes. "How could you do that?"
"Do what?"
"How could you even consider taking your own life? What the hell were you thinking?"
"I...I was lost. Confused. And I was hurting. It hurt so bad. I can't even describe how bad it hurt."
"Really? Like I don't know what it feels like to lose someone? To have to go through that agony day after day, thinking you'll never make it through?"
"It's different for you. You didn't kill him. You weren't responsible for what happened."
"Neither are you. Amy chose to look at her phone that night. She didn't have to listen to you. And she had control of the wheel. She let the car swerve and hit the guardrail. None of that was your fault. But you jumping off the bridge? That would've been all you. And then what? You're gone and everyone left behind has to suffer like you did after Amy died. Is that what you wanted? Is that really what you wanted to happen?"
"No! What are you talking about? I wan't leaving anyone behind. The only people who would've even noticed I was gone are my aunt and uncle, and to them it would've been a relief to have me gone. I would've been doing them a favor."
"A favor." He huffs. "Is that really what you think?" He turns and walks away from me. "First they lose their daughter, then a year later, on the anniversary of her death, they lose their niece, who they've raised like a daughter."
"They don't see me like that. They don't even like me."
"Yeah, that's why your uncle comes here all the time to visit. That's why they want you to come home this weekend. Because they don't like you."
I shake my head, which is much clearer now than just a few minutes ago. Travis' reaction to what I told him has quickly sobered me up as I try to figure out what the hell is happening. I thought he'd be more understanding about this. But instead he's angry at me, raising his voice and pacing the floor like he's about to explode.
"Travis, why are you acting like this? I thought I could trust you. You always say I can tell you anything."
"You can, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be happy about it. You tried to kill yourself, Skye. How do you expect me to react to that?"
"I know you're upset but it was weeks ago. I don't feel that way now."
"Doesn't matter. The fact that you even considered it...and thought you were doing people a favor." He throws his hands up. "How the hell could you even think that? After seeing the fallout from Amy's death. LIVING it. Seeing her parents suffer. Her friends. How could you possibly think you'd be doing anyone a favor by jumping off that bridge?"
"But I didn't do it." I stand in front of him. "Travis, why are you getting so angry?"
"Life is precious. How the hell anyone could even think of offing themselves baffles my mind. And then to think it wouldn't affect anyone? That we'll all just go on living our lives? My life is a
fucking disaster with Seth gone. I don't want to be working at this garage. I don't want to live in this town. And I sure as hell don't want to have to go to that damn nursing home every week and see my dad wetting his pants and not knowing who the fuck I am." He slams his fist on the kitchen counter. "Seth was supposed to do this! Not me! I told him a million times to stop riding that goddamn motorcycle but he didn't listen. And now he's dead. I know it's not the same as jumping off a bridge. He didn't plan to die that day. But he sure as hell didn't think about what would happen if he ever died on that thing. I was the cautious one. He was the risk taker. And now I'm the one paying the price."
"So this is about you and your brother," I say, my hands on my hips. "You're yelling at me because you're angry at him for dying."
"Of course I'm fucking angry! But I'd be even more pissed if he did it on purpose. You had a choice, Skye, and you chose to relieve your own pain and not care about any else's."
"That is NOT what I was doing. You have no fucking clue what I was going through and you never will. You're one of those people who thinks suicide is selfish, which just proves you have no idea what it's like to get to that point. The loneliness. The desperation. The feeling that you're completely out of options."
"There are always options. You just chose not to take them."
"We're done talking about this." I go to the stairs and hurry down them. "I'm leaving."
"You don't have a car."
"Shit," I mutter, stopping at the door. "I'll call Heidi." I get my phone, then remember she went home this weekend.
Travis comes down the stairs, flying past me and opening the door. "Let's go. I'll take you home."
He really wants me to leave? I thought he'd try to get me to stay. To talk this out. But I guess not. I guess there's nothing more to say. He's angry with me and I'm angry at him so we really shouldn't be talking right now.
We get to my apartment building and he stops at the front door, leaving the engine running.
"Okay, well, thanks for the ride," I say.
"You're welcome. Oh, and, don't worry about coming to work tomorrow. The bill's paid off. You don't have to keep coming back."
"What are you talking about? It's not even close to being paid off."
"It's good enough. I know you hate working there and you really should be spending your time at college, not at a garage."
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