October Breezes (27 page)

I shiver in the cold wind and pul the sweatshirt sleeves lower to cover my hands. Stil not spring enough to forget winter. “Hey.

What are you doing here?” I look at the ground, knowing if my gaze happens across his, he’l read me. He’l read everything.

“I saw the moving van and I thought you might need help.”

He shoves his keys in his pocket.

I grab a rubber band from my wrist, and pul my hair into a ponytail. “There

are lots of boxes. You’re a glutton for punishment.” I start toward the house.

“Skye, wait.”

Shivering, I turn. “The stuff to be loaded is in the house. So is my coat.”

Devin silently folows me through the house, but when I cross the threshold to my bedroom, he remains where the carpet seams the doorway. Puzzled, I gesture for him to enter. “You can come in. I know it’s a mess, but you’ve seen worse.”

“That’s…not it.” He stares at the bed and shoves his hands into his pockets. A painful frown crosses his features, and he clenches his jaw.

Puzzled, I, too, look back at the bed. “Devin, what are you looking at?”

The color drains from his face, and he weakly points at the bed. “That.” His breaths have become much more shalow, and between that and how pale he appears, I wonder if he is going to be sick.

I shake my head, unable to figure out where his thoughts were headed. “Devin, you’ve been up here before. My mom’s not going to freak out if she finds you up here. Just relax.”

“I haven’t been up here since.…” His voice trails off, and he swalows hard. He puls off the basebal cap, brushes his fingers through his hair, and sets the cap back in place. One hand slowly finds the doorway and clutches the frame in a white-knuckle grasp.

Turning back to the bed, I finaly understand. But how could he have known where I’d chosen to lay down and die? I turn and find Devin concentrating on the ground. The only movement that gives him away is the rapid expansion and release of his chest. I slowly sit on a box and pat the one next to me. As he sits, his shoulders form a stiff line. His posture is that of a piano player, not my best friend’s. “How did you know this was where I…did that?”

“I guessed.” His flat tone and averted gaze confirms he is lying—badly as usual. Having known him for so long, I thought I’d seen every emotion in him, but his rigid posture, averted gaze, the way his hands clench the edge of the box—all these suggest fear, and I’ve never seen Devin afraid of anything.

I slowly touch the top of his hand. “You’re not guessing, Devin. I know better.”

“No.” He closes his eyes and his shoulders sag as though he is an inflated tire with a slow leak.

My hand rests atop his, and despite his closed eyes, tears seep out. “I’m sorry. I never thought about who would find me.”

Chewing my lip, I realize I never expected that person would be Devin. Never.

“Maybe I deserved it.” His voice barely rises above a whisper. “The whole time I was doing CPR, I was teling God al the things I’d give for you to come back.” He leans against me, resting his head on my shoulder. “I haven’t been able to shake the image of you on that bed not breathing.” He clenches his jaw again.

“I screwed up, Skye.”

“What do you mean?” I try to understand how he could believe he’d messed up when I’d been the one making al the mistakes. I lean my head against his.

“I was so angry at you I didn’t even listen. I was so jealous about Kelin I wanted to make you jealous with Bethany—

nevermind that she told me it wouldn’t work, that she wouldn’t go along with it. She was just a good friend who couldn’t replace you, and I blamed you because I almost got suspended. I jumped to conclusions and let my feelings get in the way of being your friend.

What kind of a person does that?”

I squeeze his hand. “One who is hurting.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” Tears leave his voice raspy, and I wish I knew what to say. “I wish you had come to me about the party, Skye. Yeah, I might have freaked, but at least you wouldn’t have been so alone.”

I cringe, shaken by seeing Devin like this. He used to be my rock, but now he seems so unsure. “I knew I’d made a mistake, but I was too stubborn to admit it. I was humiliated, Tyler seemed invincible, and I thought you’d see me as someone who’d asked for it.”

He puls me to him and I rest my head on his shoulder.

“God, Skye, nobody asks for that. The only thing you ever wanted was to be loved. It’s a good thing he’s in jail, for his sake. Stil, I didn’t make it easy for you to talk, did I?”

“I’ve made my share of mistakes, Devin. I lied to my mom, and I made a choice I’m stil trying to accept. As much as you want to protect me, you can’t, not realy. I have to do this on my own. Parts of me are broken, and it’s going to take time, but it’s not your fault. You made the best choices you could based on what you knew. I should have filed in the blanks better.”

He cradles my hand between his. “It doesn’t matter if it’s not my fault. What happened is never going to go away, and al I know is that one day things seem fine and the next, the world is crazy. What made things happen like that? I used to believe that life works itself out for the best. Now I don’t. It’s al a gamble, and even when you think you’re doing the right thing, it can hurt somebody, and there’s no guarantee that something bad isn’t going to change your life forever.” He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “The paramedics told me I found you with about five minutes to spare. What happens in five minutes, Skye?” He sits up and looks at me, tears streaming down his face. “It’s how long it takes to walk through the lunch line or get to class. It’s how long it takes to walk from my house to yours.” He swalows hard, his lips parting but the words catch in his throat until he finaly manages to speak in a sandpapered voice. “It’s al the time it takes for you to….” his voice tapers away, and he clutches my hand.

“I’m here,” I say, wiping his tears. “I’m not the same Skye, but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe I’l be less angry and more hopeful.” I kneel before him and press my forehead to his. “I know I scared you. I scared me, too. But it’s going to be okay, Devin.” Imagine me having this conversation—me, the eternal pessimist, and Devin, the eternal optimist. Now the roles are reversed. “This doesn’t have to change how you see the world, Devin. It’s bad, but it’s not something we can’t get past.”

“It does change it, Skye,” he argues. “I saw what Tyler and Becca did to you. I knew they were cruel, but that wasn’t simple cruelty. It was something that almost destroyed you. And I played a part in it by judging you.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Bethany told me I was being too hard on you, that everyone makes mistakes. I should’ve listened. I just keep thinking about what would have happened if I hadn’t gotten there. I dream about it, Skye—I walk in and do CPR, but I can’t get you to breathe. The EMT’s pul me away and throw a sheet over you. Then I wake up and remind myself it’s a dream, and it’s over until the next one.” He stands and paces. “I just wish I never had to sleep again.”

It is then I realize just how much Devin has changed, how much loving me has changed him, and I want to go back in time, not just for me but for him, and erase this year. I want to be the old Skye and fal in love with him, but I can’t. The best I can do is offer this new person as a poor substitute. She is not nearly as naive, her heart has been broken, and she doesn’t have a clue how to fix anything. She just has the desire to fix something, and maybe that’s enough for both of us.

I look around the room at the mountain of boxes and think about loading them, but I take Devin’s hand instead. “Come on.”

His troubled eyes meet mine. “Where are we going?”

“I know this great trampoline that hasn’t been used in months.” I start to pul him toward the doorway.

“Skye, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Then let me help.” I thread my fingers around his and lead him outside. As we sit on the trampoline’s edge tugging off our shoes, I see a darkness in Devin’s eyes I’m not sure how to ease, but I know if I look in the mirror, it matches my own.

In life, there seem to be a whole lot of people who wil hurt you, and there’re some who’l save you, but there is a handful who wil teach you how to save yourself so you can help others. I don’t know that I’m the right person to save Devin, or even if I can. But I do believe that together we are stronger, and maybe when we can finaly accept the past as it happened, we’l be able to let go of the darkness. Neither of us is sure what the future holds, but I’m hoping whatever it is, there’l always be the trampoline.

About the Author

Maria Rachel Hooley is the author of over twenty novels, including the
Sojourner
series,
New Life Inc.,
and
When Angels
Cry
. Her work has been featured in numerous publications such as
Green Hills Literary
Lantern, Westview
, and
Kimera
. She has written over twenty novels in numerous genres. Her first chapbook of poetry,
A Different Song,
was published by Rose Rock Press in 1999. She is a high school teacher and lives in Oklahoma with husband and three children. You can view more of her work at www.mariarachelhooley.com.

Summer Sunsets

(October Breezes 2)

Chapters 1 & 2

By

Maria Rachel Hooley

It’s been almost two years since I saw Skye Wiliams. Two years. Now, standing in my dorm room for the last time, I look around. The wals are bare, with plenty of nail holes to mark how many pictures I’ve tacked up—more than a few of growing up with her. Just because she’s never been to the University of North Carolina doesn’t mean she’s never been
here
…if you know what I mean. There hasn’t been a day gone by I haven’t kept some part of her with me.

I sit on the bed and stare at an empty room just waiting for its next student, and part of me is ready to give it up. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed my five years here, but I know where I belong and whom I belong with. I guess the real test wil be what happens now. I grab the last box and head out.

I’ve just locked the door when my cel rings. Propping the box against the wal, I check the display: Skye. I smile and flip open the phone.

“Hey, Stranger. You on the road yet?”

“No.”

Her voice is breathy and panicked. The sound of it tenses my back and shoulders. Stil, I force calm into my voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Devin.”

I nod, aware that whatever it might be, “nothing” isn’t it.

“C’mon, Skye—I know you better than that.” I press my face against my shoulder to cradle the phone. “Just tel me.”

“I…think there’s this guy folowing me,” she whispers.

More tension threads the muscles in my back, and I take a deep breath, knowing Skye could have someone folowing her, but, more likely, she thinks she does.

“Calm down. Are you near a public place?” I keep my voice even. The last thing she needs is me reacting.

“Yes.” Tears deepen her voice. “The student union is just ahead.”

“Okay, go inside and see if he passes.” I get into the elevator and push the button for the ground floor, waiting. This isn’t new for Skye, but that doesn’t mean it makes it any easier when I get a cal like this. Every few seconds, I want to ask her what’s going on, but I have a feeling she’s going to tel me she’s inside, safe. It’s the middle of the day, and her university is probably a lot like mine—

buzzing with al the students heading home.

A few seconds later, the elevator doors open, and I step out, heading to the parking lot. I hear her softly breathing in the phone.

“Are you inside yet?”

“Yes.”

“Did he folow you?” I set the box in the back of the truck and unlock the door.

“No, he’s moving on.” Her voice is faster with relief. “Thank God.”

I smile, also relieved.

“Are you packed and ready to hit the road?” I start the engine.

“Yeah, I’m going to get a soda, and I’l head out. Sorry for the false alarm.” She’s breathing more slowly, which is a good thing.

“Anytime, Skye. You know that. I’l see you at the usual spot.”

“’Kay.”

I disconnect the cal and sit a moment, stil holding the phone open. I stare at the picture—one of me and Skye taken during her high school graduation. She’s wearing a blue cap and gown that makes her look dark. I mean, she
is
dark, probably because of the Hispanic genes and al, but her smile is kind of uncertain, like she stil hadn’t shaken off some of the baggage. Then again, I think, leaning back against the seat, that made two of us.

Sophomore year—that’s when everything went south. Up until that point, Skye had been my best friend since we were kids, and I had been in love with her. She just didn’t know it. And when she tried to kil herself, I fel apart. It’s been years, but certain wounds never heal. That’s just the way things are.

This is going to be a long road ahead to Colgate, Mississippi, the little town where Skye and I have met up twice in colege, the same one where Skye’s mom took us on vacation years ago when Skye and I were kids. Without realizing it, my hand drifts to the shel necklace Skye made for me. I rarely take it off, not that I’d tel her that. Stuff like that’s liable to freak her out because even though Skye knows how I feel, I’m stil not sure she’s ready for anything that serious.

Late afternoon sunlight spils into my eyes, forcing me to turn the visor down to cut the glare. I peer over at the passenger seat where the folder of pictures I took down sits. One of them has slipped free, and I pick it up once I’ve merged onto the highway. It’s a picture of Skye and me on the trampoline. We’re sitting close, and she’s lifted one hand to form bunny ears above my head. We’re probably twelve or thirteen, back before things changed, and I’d give anything to be back there, to be able to take Skye back to that time for both our sakes.

The house is still as I rush up the front steps and begin
slamming my fist against the door. “Skye, it’s Devin! Open
up!”

I wait. Nothing. My heart is ramming in my chest, and I
don’t understand what’s happening. Warren sounded desperate
when he called. He said Skye was in danger.