From The Wreckage - Complete (7 page)

Exhausted, Jules barely takes the time to stand under the shower and allow the warm stream of water to rinse the dried blood and dirt off her body and down the drain. She doesn’t realize how cut up she is until she stands in the mirror and looks at her battered body. Her cheek is swollen, her eyes are purple, and her arms and legs resemble someone who went into battle with an angry cat and lost. As she crawls into bed and drifts off to sleep, she wishes the few memories she
did
have could have swirled down the drain along with the water and grime. 

It is mid-afternoon Saturday and she is lying in bed with the sun peeking through a crack in the blinds, when she hears the low murmur of West's voice, followed by a somewhat deeper tone, rising up through the foyer into her bedroom.

Although the doorbell sounds several times that afternoon, she ignores it and buries deeper into her covers. Her body aches from the ordeal last night and her head is pounding something fierce again. Her dad pokes his head in sometime before the sun is up and kisses her on the head. The touch stirs her barely enough to mumble a sleepy, 'What are you doing?' He explains he is heading out to help do some recovery work in town, and Jules squeezes her eyes shut to keep the memories out; falling back asleep. An hour ago her mother came in to tell her she made some chicken salad and it will be available whenever she’s ready to come downstairs, but instead she pulls the covers up and squeezes her eyes shut. She knows she is fighting the reality of what she might have to face once she leaves the safety of her room, but she can’t help it.

Hearing West's voice, however, puts urgency into her movements and she slides from the bed and feels her limbs turn to jelly when she tries to stand.

"Whoa."

Jules falls back to sit on the side of the bed and her head spins as dark spots flash before her eyes. She can hear a deeper voice speaking below her and decides it must be Mr. Rutledge. Wondering why they are here, she slowly pushes herself to a standing position again.

She manages to crack open her door when she hears a broken sob from her mom.

"Oh, dear Lord."

The strangled words fill her with worry and Jules rounds the corner; her head poking down into the open foyer below as she calls out, "Mom?"

Her mother stands inside the door with her head bent low. Mr. Rutledge stands close to her, his hand touching her shoulder as she cries. To the left stands West with his hands tucked into the pockets of his blue jeans. He looks up at the sound of her voice and his expression changes immediately; the pain and sadness is evident in his eyes. 

Paying no heed to the tank top and small sleeping shorts she wears, Jules steps into full view and takes a shaky step; grabbing the rail to brace herself for whatever dismal news the Rutledge’s seem to be bringing into her house. 

"What's wrong? West, why are you here?"

He stands his ground silently and she takes the steps slowly; her eyes glued on her mother's back. It feels like everything is moving in slow motion, as if her mother is ignoring her, but in reality it takes only a few seconds before she turns towards Jules. Her face is pale and her eyes are rimmed red as she brushes the wetness from beneath her lower lashes.

"Oh, honey," she starts; moving to take Jules' hand once she reaches the last few steps. "I have some bad news."

The black spots show up again and Jules grips the post to the stairs. She feels a sudden urge to vomit and swallows hard as she looks at the three somber faces in front of her. She barely feels her mother’s arm wrap around her, pulling her snugly against her, as she meets West's eyes again. Something in his look instinctively tells her what she is about to hear. They lock with hers and his expression fills with indescribable emotions. There’s deep sadness, but there’s something more; something that makes her whole body tingle with the urge to be near him.

"Honey, it's Tanya. She didn't make it, sweetie," her mother's voice whispers into her ear as she tilts her head against Jules'. The words sound fake to her; a mimicry of the teacher in all of those Charlie Brown television specials she’s watched through the years. 

"Wah wah wah wah..."
 

The sentence registers deep down in her gut, but as her head swims and her feet begin to give away, she stays zoned in on West. As she stares Jules notices his mouth open, and his face switches from sadness to a look of concern. She registers his movement towards her as if she is watching a movie. She doesn’t feel as if she is actually present in the room as he flings himself towards her. Her mother's worried shout sounds in her head before everything goes black.

Coming back to earth, Jules shakes the cobwebs from her vision and asks groggily, "What? What happened?" 

"Welcome back, cheerleader." 

West's face hovers over hers and his eyes convey worry, even while he smiles his brilliant smile.

"Honey? Are you all right? You passed out, but only for a moment." Her mother rushes to explain the details as she blinks her eyes and looks about. 

She is lying on the floor in the foyer, right where she stood only moments ago. Her mom is in front of her, kneeling and gripping her hand so tightly she thinks it might fall off. To her right is Mr. Rutledge, and she wants to climb into a hole from the embarrassment. Then she looks up and realizes she’s cradled against West. His arms are under hers as if he caught her mid-fall, and her back and head rest against his chest.

"You saved me again," she acknowledges and looks up into his upside-down face.

The vision brings to mind the Spiderman movie where Mary Jane kisses Spiderman upside down in the rain, and suddenly she is flushed with heat as a blush works up her body at the thought of kissing West in the same manner. She pulls her hand from her mother’s gently and tries to sit up on her own; allowing West to support her from behind. She sits forward enough to cross her legs in front of her. Sometime during the excitement of fainting and falling, her top had risen up and exposed her stomach, so she tugs it back down and places her head in her hands in a futile attempt to stop the pounding drums inside.

"It's this concussion. Man, it hurts so bad," she moans; trying to explain to them why she passed out so suddenly.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Rutledge stands, the floor creaking as he moves. "West, I think we should let them be, now."

Massaging her temples, she turns to look between father and son. West looks conflicted as he skims her waist lightly with his fingers. She feels the heat of his chest through the thin tank top she wears.

"Why did y'all come by?" she asks. The sound of her voice rattles her brain.

"Honey?" It is the soft, sad word spoken by her mom that brings the memory back. 

"Oh, no...no," she moans, and bile rises in her throat. "Tanya?"

Her mom stares back at her, her own eyes drowning with tears, and Jules' body begins to shake with the realization that her best friend of over ten years is gone. Folding in on herself, her mom pulls her into her chest and whispers comforting words as West tries to slide out of the way. 

Feeling the movement, her arm darts out of the cocoon she made and pins his leg in place.

"No!" she warns; her head popping up from her mother’s embrace and shocking everyone with her vehemence. "Don't go."

"Jules..."

"Please? I need you here. I don't think I can do this without you..." She trails off in despair, but hates the sound of her pleading.

She hears his dad's deep voice of warning. "West?"

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises. Taking her hand from his leg and grabbing her hip, he pulls her back into his arms.

Completely ignoring their parents, Jules wraps her arms around his waist with a sigh and curls her legs beneath her. She cries into his shirt and leaves wet spots on the cotton as the deluge of tears fall. West rubs her back in small circles with one hand while his other holds her head gently pressed to his chest. 

Behind her, her mother finally speaks. "You look exhausted. Can I get you some coffee?" 

It takes Jules a moment to comprehend that her mother is talking to West's dad, and after his deep 'Thank you', their retreating footsteps indicate she and West are alone.

They sit there on the hardwood floor of her foyer for an indeterminate amount of time before she is finally able to speak. 

"What happened to her?" she says with a sniff; her face pressed to his chest.

Jules feels him take a deep breath.
Maybe I really don’t want to know
, she thinks, as she tells herself she does.

"I don't know. My dad was with the crew that found her and two others." His voice is ragged and laced with his own tears.

"Two others?"

"There are a lot of casualties, Jules. All over town." His voice sounds as broken as her heart is, as he explains some of the devastation. She groans again and sits back, her face only inches from his now. 

"That could have been us. We could be
dead
right now."

West's hands cup her face. "But we're not. We made it," he insists, and the intensity in his eyes reminds her how lucky they are.

"Yeah, we did." She breathes deeply and covers his hands with her own before adding, "But who else didn't?"

West’s eyes begin to water as they stare at each other. "I don't know. I'm just glad it wasn't us." His lip quivers just enough to show Jules he is on the brink of breaking down himself. "I know that's selfish, but I was scared as hell last night," he admits on a choked sob, bringing her back into his arms.

She has no idea how long they sit on the floor wrapped in each other’s arms. She is relatively sure she's cried every last ounce of water from her body, though. Her eyes ache and her throat is sore. She can smell the coffee and hear their parents’ low voices in the kitchen. When her backside goes numb, they shift to sit on the bottom step next to each other. She nestles her head into his chest and leaves his comforting arm around her shoulders. She feels the light trail his fingertips make along her bicep and she shivers. 

"Did you stay at the hospital for very long last night?"

"Um, yeah. I stayed there pretty much all night. My dad was busy."

"We should have given you a lift home…I'm sorry." She tries to pull up to look at him, but he tightens his hold on her.

"It was fine, Buffy. I saw a lot of people come in. Jeff and I hung out for a while. I saw Tommy Parker, Ruben and Mark. It felt good to see people coming in and knowing they were safe."

Her stomach flips when he calls her Buffy, and she listens intently. "Tommy? He was probably one of the last people to be with Tanya before she-" She stops short of saying
died
. She can’t use those two words together in the same sentence. Not yet.

"He didn't know what happened to her. He said they were separated in the crowd. I wish-"

"What’s this?"

She jumps at the sound of Stuart’s raised voice, and the glass porch door barely makes a sound as he opens it. West's arm falls from her shoulders and she stands as quickly as her still-jumbled brain will let her.

"Stuart!" She flings herself into his arms as tears begin to fall again. "What happened to you? I sent you a text but you never called back, and then the storm hit. I thought you were dead. Tanya's de...she's gone." She spews the words out in rapid fire, and Stuart simply stands there with his hands wrapped around her waist.

"I'm fine, Jules. You thought I was dead? Are you kidding me? I was crazy worried about you after hearing the radio reports, but my parents refused to let me leave the house last night. I finally told them it was too bad and left an hour ago. The streets are a nightmare. Thankfully I saw your dad on my way here, and he told me what happened last night."

"Jules?" her mom calls from the kitchen. "Do I hear Stuart?" she asks as she walks into the foyer with West's dad on her heels. "Oh, Stuart! I thought I heard you. I'm so glad you're okay. Jules was worried sick about you last night!" she exclaims, and gives him a quick hug.

"I'm fine. I was worried about her," he offers, and looks down at Jules as she pulls away from him.

The five of them stand there in an awkward silence before West finally speaks up.

"Well we better get going now, dad."

Stuart pulls Jules to the side as West crosses the foyer to the door. For one, fleeting moment she thinks he’s going to simply walk out without another word, but he stops and turns to look at them; his eyes revealing a world of hurt. She feels Stuart's fingers flex in her side and wonders if he sees the look too.

"Take care of her," West tells Stuart; his face tight. "She got a concussion last night and passed out again this morning."

If Stuart acknowledges what West said, she doesn’t notice it. She is too busy staring at West, and her heart picks up at the thought of him walking out her door. She wants to stop him; to reach out, grab his hand and pull him into another long hug. 

The thought makes her wince. That she can possibly think of him this way while being huddled next to Stuart confuses the living daylights out of her, so she simply nods his way instead. She nods to acknowledge both West and his father, who are now holding the glass door open after saying goodbye to her mother.