Lingering Echoes (29 page)

An
hour later, I found myself unpacking my belongings, folding and stowing my clothes back in my drawers. I had told my parents everything: explaining Damien’s rocky past and losing his family in the fire. How he pulled me from the river that rainy day last June and played the anonymous hero.

I even shared with them, for the first time, the details of what hap
pened in the river with Maddie—voicing aloud to them the heavy emotions they knew I carried around with me this past year. My voice shook and my body trembled as I spoke. It was the most I had spoken to either of them of Maddie’s death, making them the second and third person to hear the full details.

But the tremors that shook me
felt different this time. It wasn’t guilty emotions that played with my nerves. Rather, my body was reacting to the palpable honesty I shared with them. My heart pounded, urging me to continue, to express the once-encumbering emotions. And with it, I offered each of them the remaining, broken pieces of an old shield.

I felt lighter. I wanted
to keep talking until it was all out, until my parents heard everything, and I knew that they wanted to know. They had always wanted to know.

I could hear M
om sniffling on the other end. I tried not to notice the tears in Dad’s eyes as he wiped them away, but I did acknowledge the proud smile he shared with me when I was done, matching the proud tone in Mom’s voice.

A
knock on the door made me jump. I dropped the shirt in my hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle
you.” Aaron was leaning against the doorframe, still standing in the hall.

“Aaron, hi
.”

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, just unpacking.” I motioned towards the remaining scattered items by my bag. “My mom’s letting me stay for the next two weeks. As you can see, I’ve got some reorganizing to do. My dad sure did a number on my room.”              

“Well, how about a break from all this?
Want to go for a walk?” Aaron held out his hand.

I took one more fleeting glance at the mess around me.
It wasn’t a hard decision. “Sure. That sounds refreshing.” I placed my hand in his, and he pulled me to my feet.

W
e ambled along the shoreline of the lake in quiet companionship. Our slow footsteps imprinted into the dirt, recording our path. It was still light outside, with the remaining glow diming.

Aaron’s voice broke the comfortable
silence. “So, are you ready for it?”

I squinted at him in confusion.
“Ready? For what?”

Aaron shrugged.
“You know. College. Change. It’s all coming your way in a few weeks.” His words brought a wave of images to my mind: Chaotic, cramped dorm rooms, campus cafeterias, oversized classrooms with a sea of unfamiliar faces surrounding me...I cringed at the thought.

“Whoa, d
idn’t mean to scare you,” Aaron interrupted, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s exciting. It will be different, at first, because it’s all so new. But you’ll do great out there.”

“Let’s hope so
,” I commented, looking over at the darkening lake. Change was a scary concept. Whether you were ready for it or not, sometimes it crept up on you, ambushing without warning, and no matter if you wanted it or not, you had to figure out how to accept it and adapt to its insistent nature.

“I’m not sure I’
m ready for more change,” I said. “I’ve had about as much of it as I can handle, I think.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a moment. “So what about you?” I asked, diverting the attention. “Are you looking forward to your sophomore year?”

Aaron shrugged. “Sure, why not? Nick and I have plans to room
in an apartment together. We might have two other roommates, but it beats the dorms. Oh, not that living in the dorms is a bad thing. You’ll enjoy it. But after a year, it’s definitely time to go. You’ll see.”

“That must be nice having your best frie
nd around all the time,” I said. “Must be easier making friends, I’m sure. Not that you’re the type to have any problems in the social arena. I’m sure you’ll have girls lined up the minute you move in,” I laughed.

Aaron slowed
his pace. I mimicked his tempo, watching his features alter.

“Did I s
ay something wrong?” I asked.

W
e had reached the observation dock. I followed Aaron as he stepped onto the dock and slipped between the metals rails. Sitting down beside him, I let my feet dangle over the edge, and rested my forearms on the rail in front of me. I looked over at Aaron, waiting for his words.

“Is that how you see me?”
he asked, not looking back at me.

“What do you mean?

“You know, just one of those guys who hooks up with the next girl in line?”

My mouth o
pened and closed a couple times as I struggled with how to respond. This was Aaron we were talking about here. I shrugged with guilt. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Aaron. I mean, I guess so. It doesn’t seem like it’s been a hard road for you in that area. You’ll never have a hard time getting the girl you want.”

Aaron
was silent for a time, his eyes washing over my face. His eyes connected with mine with such sudden intensity that I felt my cheeks redden with warmth. “Except for the one that matters,” he disagreed.

My mouth fell
open, but my throat tightened shut, sealing my voice. Aaron lifted a hand to my face, his fingers brushing the stray hairs falling beside my eye. I swallowed hard.

“
You’re different than any girl I’ve ever met, Allie Collins,” he said, sliding his fingers down my face as he dropped his hand. “You’re genuine. And brave. You’ve faced so many fears in just the few weeks that I’ve known you that I know how strong you are. Allie, when I’m with you, I don’t want to be
that guy
anymore. You’ve shown me that there is something more to be felt—something that makes a relationship real.”

The wind picked up in speed, stirring the air between us. I breathed a sigh of relief as it cooled my heated cheeks.
It gave me a moment to sort through the tornado of thoughts and emotions whirling inside me. I cleared my throat, unable to hold Aaron’s gaze.

“
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that’s the only way I think of you.” I paused. “You’ve been there for me during all of this. Whether it was making me get up on that stupid wakeboard, or talking about my fear of love and relationships...you’ve made a difference in my life. And you’re important to me, Aaron.”

Aaron lifted his eyes to meet mine. “But just not as important as someone else,” he concluded.

My face scrunched together. I didn’t know how to respond. With a sigh, I looked up at the sky, seeing just a hint of stars beginning to shine through. I thought about all the constellations. Even the stars grouped in meaningful patterns. It was nature’s purpose in life for all things to connect—to be together, but why did it have to be so difficult to define?

Aaron looked like he was struggling to say something.
I waited with nervous anticipation of his words.

“Allie,” he began
, taking his time. “Do you think, well, do you think maybe, if you hadn’t met Damien again, that somehow things would be different? Maybe we would have met and become friends like we have...and then maybe that might have developed into a little more, like it sort of did. The summer would come to an end, and we would go our separate ways. But we might have kept in touch while we were both in college. And I would go home to Danville with Nick on holidays when you would be visiting your dad. And we would see each other. And things would be the same between us, but with the potential to be even better.”

I listened to his musings, with a twinge of guilt digging in
to my heart. There was no doubt I cared about Aaron. He had forced his way into a shielded part of my life, supporting me when I pushed everyone else away. Hearing him ponder about what could have been, had circumstances been different, played wistfully in my heart.

But Aaron was not the only one who had collided into my life.

“It’s ok,” Aaron spoke, squeezing my hand as he read my thoughts. “I know he means a lot to you. We can’t live happily on ‘what could have been’, can we?”

There it was again.
The timeless question of “if only.” I shook my head back and forth with slow movements.

Aaron let out
a half smile, shaking his head with a hint of regret. He stood up, dusting off the back of his shorts. “Come here.” He reached out his hand and took my own, pulling me to my feet.

I stepped into him, hugging him.
“Thanks for everything, Aaron. And for understanding.”

Aaron returned the embrace, playing with my hair against my back. “
You’re a good person, Allie. You deserve to be happy. Don’t ever forget that.”

As I pulled away, Aaron put a hand on the back of my head, looking down into my eyes.
His own eyes flickered back and forth between mine. He smiled, and then leaned down to kiss my forehead. His lips lingered a moment too long, pressed against my warm skin. I took another step backwards, placing a hand against his chest.

Aaron
put his hand on top of mine. I could feel his heart beating, its quick tempo matching my own. After a moment, he sighed, releasing my hand.

“Come on,
pretty girl. I’ll walk you home. I hope you know it’s completely out of my way though.”

I laughed, able to breathe again
as we walked side by side along the shore, back the way we came.

I looked back and
forth across the streaming river. It flowed serenely towards the lake with its shallow waters. The river played a gentle melody, popping against the rocks and trickling its soprano voice.

I placed my bare
foot on top of the rock, feeling the cool water splash against my ankle. I took another hesitant step onto the next rock.              

And then another.

Halfway across the river, a flicker of a memory blanketed my vision, but it wasn’t the one I feared would return. Instead, I saw Maddie’s jovial face, swinging her pale hair as she leaped from rock to rock. She looked back at me, egging me on beneath the sunlight. I followed her eager footsteps across the river. It was just as it had always been. Fearless and fun.

My bare feet touched
the soft dirt of the river’s edge. Feeling triumphant, I looked back at the gentle current. The river was no longer taunting or threatening me with jeering memories—it was just a river, flowing from mountain to lake as it had always done, sweeping through the land at nature’s bidding.

A warm hand touched my shoulder.
I turned around and smiled at Damien. He watched me, intrigued by the expression on my face.

“Do you hear that?”
I asked, looking at the forest around us.

“No. What?”

“Nothing. It’s quiet,” I informed him. He looked at me as I smiled to myself. In perfect honesty, it wasn’t truly quiet. Nature never was, with the birds, the crickets, and running water orchestrating its authentic sounds, but this time, something was missing.

T
he once-haunting laughter was gone, no longer echoing off the trees—no longer taunting me with painful memories and guilty emotions. I inhaled, letting the relief exit my lungs. I almost felt weightless, like I could hold my breath and, if the wind blew just right, that it might pick me up along with it and carry me above the trees.

Damien
slid a long, thorn-less stem into my hand. I put the delicate petals to my nose, breathing in the sweet fragrance one more time. We walked to the river’s edge, hand in hand.

“I love you,
Maddie,” I whispered, releasing the red rose. It fell into the river, gliding along with the current, running its course. We watched the rose move on until we could no longer see its vibrant color.

Damien
dropped his weight to the ground and pulled me down beside him. He kicked off his sandals and dangled his feet over the embankment. I scooted closer to him, following his lead and dipping my toes into the water. Linking arms with him, I rested my head against his good shoulder.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” I said, not moving from my relaxed position. “What’s going to happen to your land and your family’s cabin?” I thought back to the scorched skeleton of his vacation home
, (or what was left of it), feeling like it was forever ago that I trespassed onto his property—back when Damien’s identity was merely a disturbing ghost story.

Damien remained thoughtful before answering. “I’ve thought about rebuilding,” he said. “I hadn’t wanted to touch it before. I felt like it was all I had left of my
family, and I couldn’t bear the thought of tearing it down, but now....” Damien shrugged, returning my smile. “I think it’d be fun to build a vacation home and rent it out for a while—let some other families make some memories around here.”

I nodded my head. “That
sounds perfect. I think your mom would be happy about that.”

“Now let me ask you something,” Damien said. I waited expectantly and he continued. “D
o you believe everything happens for a reason?”

I turned my head upwards in thought, taking in the calm, clear sky above us.
“I don’t know about all things,” I said, “but certainly some.”

“Even hard situations?”
Damien questioned.

“Maybe especially the hard situations.
I think it helps make us stronger, and helps us connect to the right people. I didn’t always believe that, but I do now.”

I looked up into Damien’s
marble eyes, seeing the image of myself reflecting back at me. Somehow, the reflection had changed from what I remembered. The frightened, self-tormented girl was gone, and in her place was someone else—someone standing taller, more confident, and with a touch of a smile on her face.

Damien leaned towards m
e and played with a loose wave of hair beside my cheekbone. He curled it around his finger before he released it and slid his fingers along my jaw. His hand pressed against my left shoulder, pushing my back against the ground. I looked up at him as he leaned over me, placing his face just above my own.

His face
lowered, and I closed my eyes. Damien pressed his full lips against mine, tender with his touch. A surge of emotion wrapped around us like a blanket, shielding us both from the past and the future. All that lay between us was the present.

The demons we had
battled lay peacefully at rest, and the future before us was unplanned and unwritten. For now, it was just the two of us, living in the moment.