When Our Worlds Collide (5 page)

Chapter Eight

-Graham-

It has been four days.

Motherfucking four days.

Four of the longest days of my god damn life.

They dragged on as I watched the hands on the clocks seem to
barely move. I know it’s only going to get worse. Leaving the house is becoming
a guilty chore. Every time I go to leave I only feel more shame that sends me
straight back to the seclusion of my room. I shouldn’t be able to walk out my
front door as if nothing ever happened, as if life was just as we had left it.
Kennedy was lying in a hospital bed…broken.

When I got to school on Monday everyone is busy talking
about what had happened. It is the only thing they all have to talk about. Groups
of girls are standing in the hallway near my locker and I overhear their
conversation. I cringe at what they are all saying.

“Can you believe what happened to Kennedy?” one of them
whispers to the other. I contemplate banging my head against the metal of the
locker.

“I know, right? They drove off without even helping her.
What kind of asshole does something like that?” the other one says. I can’t
listen anymore. I ditch my things in my locker and make my way to my first
class. That doesn’t help either. Everyone including Mark is busy talking about
her
.

I should have stayed home. I’m regretting dragging my ass
out of bed this morning. If it wasn’t for baseball, I would be anywhere else
but here.

“Where were you Sunday? Craig had poker. I finally won all
that money back I lost two weeks ago,” Mark asks slamming into the seat next to
me abandoning the conversation he is having with a few sophomore girls. They
have that dreamy look in their eyes that you can’t quite decipher as endearing
or needy. The short blonde waves over to me with sex filled eyes.
Christ
.

“Just hung around the house, I had to help my mom with a few
things,” I lie turning my attention on the overzealous blonde. I grin at her
because why the hell not. I might as well play. Mark didn’t seem to notice my
lying or he didn’t really care either way.

The rest of the school day went just like that. Everyone
talks about how some asshole ran Kennedy over and then left her on the dirt
road. The stories vary, some of them are extreme. Someone even said that
Kennedy jumped out in front of the car to attempt to commit suicide. It is
getting to be too much to listen to. All of the gossip only added to my regret.
I’m not used to this feeling. I’ve never had to apologize for anything, ever.

I can’t change what happened or how I handled that night. I
simply have to live with my decisions. Making myself stop thinking about it was
becoming a challenge. It is in my head with no intentions of leaving anytime
soon.

I knew that there must be some truth to what everyone is
saying, but it turns and changes with every ear that it passes through. I see
her friend, Violet, in the cafeteria. I have to force myself to not go over and
ask her how Kennedy is doing. It would look too obvious. What was I supposed to
say?--“Oh hey, I know I’m not friends with her, but please tell me everything
you know so I can make sure I didn’t completely ruin her life. Thanks”. Kennedy
and I didn’t exactly hang out with the same crowd. I have no reason to be
worried about how she is doing.

I’m a pathetic dick. I’ve always known it. This just shines
a brilliant light all over my bullshit.

I continue the same charade the rest of the week trying to
act as if nothing had changed in my life. It has though. I don’t know Kennedy
and she doesn’t know me. Here she is protecting me. It isn’t like what she did
in class when she gave me the answer to a question. It is much bigger than
that. I’ve been on edge just waiting for a knock on the door or being called
down to the office, just to be arrested in front of everyone. To have the rug
ripped out from under me.

I think the worst part of this all is that I allowed her to
protect me.

I am a coward.

I am the worst kind of coward.

Chapter Nine

-Kennedy-

The week went by slow. Actually, slow isn’t the right word.
It was catastrophically stagnant. It was as if someone stopped all of the
clocks in the world and I had no idea what time or day it was anymore. I passed
my time in the hospital watching daytime soaps not knowing the story plot still
somehow finding it entertaining. It has been mind-numbing in the best way
possible. 

The doctors released me Wednesday night and encouraged me to
take as much time I needed to get back to school. I gladly obliged. I am in no
condition to try to wobble my way back into the school on these damn crutches
the nurse threw at my feet before I left the hospital. I still haven’t gotten
the hang of them and since I have never broken any bones before, I’m not
prepared for the pain that comes along with the torture devices.

I swing my legs off the side of my bed to attempt to make it
into the kitchen by jumping on my one and only good foot without falling. I
nearly bang my head on the hallway wall. I brace myself against the cool
drywall where all of our family photos hang. Thankfully, Dad is there to catch
me before I have to make a repeat visit to the E.R. I’ve seen enough of the
white walls to last me a few years.

“Take it easy. No one’s expecting you to run a marathon
anytime soon, kiddo,” my dad jokes laughing at his attempt in humor.

“Very funny and I know that. I’d just like to be able to
make it through the hallways on Monday.” I explain. I let him grab my crutches
from my room as I stand helpless leaning an arm on the wall looking over the
photos that hang before me. I still have braces in a few of them. We need to
update these, not that anyone besides Violet would ever see them. It’s one of
the perks of being…nobody. I don’t have to worry about being embarrassed about
the awkward stages.

“You get that stubbornness from your mother. You should
really think about taking a few extra days off, but knowing you, you have
already made up your mind. Am I right?” He smiles handing over my crutches. He
knows me too well.

“I have and I will be back in school come Monday.” I explain
before trying to make my way back to my room forgetting why I left the comfort
of my bed in the first place. “Has anyone called for me?” I turn to face him in
the hallway hopeful that for once the universe will be on my side.

He picks up the pile of mail on the console table that sits
behind the loveseat aimlessly flipping through it discarding the pointless ads.
“Actually, yes.” He doesn’t bother to even look up towards me.

“Who?” I sound eager, too eager. Even I can hear the
hopefulness in my voice. He notices too, just as any observant father would.

“Expecting a phone call, I take it?” His eyebrow rises
making him look hilariously shocked. They nearly touch his hairline. “Violet
called four times in the past 8 hours, said you weren’t answering your cell
phone. You might want to call her back. That girl is relentless.” His voice
sounds annoyed, but we all know he adores Violet as if she is his own daughter.
He likes to give her a hard time.

“That’s all? No one else?” I ask feeling a mild twinge of disappointment.

“Yep, that’s all.” He gives me a sympathetic smile before
turning his back. He is catching onto me. I’d like to assume that he is like
most fathers. Being oblivious is an act when in reality they are far too in
tune with the details of their teenage daughter’s lives. After all they need to
know who to kill at any given moment, right?

I throw myself onto my bed, maneuvering my broken leg onto
the stack of pillows that are down at the opposite end. The red light of my
cell phone is blinking and for a split second I allowed myself to get excited
even though I know it is only going to be Violet. After thinking about it over
in my head, I have no reason to believe that Graham will try to call me.
Somehow I keep finding myself thinking about him. I know I shouldn’t. He is
trouble, but something in me wants to believe differently.

I just keep remembering the look on his face that night. He
seemed vulnerable under the brightness of the moonlight. Maybe I am looking too
deep, but I know what I saw when he looked at me. It wasn’t the same Graham who
acts as if he is doing me a favor for even breathing the same air as me. He
surprised me. That’s all.

I grab my phone clicking a few buttons to find a text
message from Violet.

Hope ur feelin better. I still cant believe u were run
over. Ill pick u up at 7:30 for school. luv u.

I send her a quick message back telling her that I am fine
and that I appreciate her picking me up for school. Placing the phone back down
on my nightstand my mind wanders back to him just as it has every other moment
since I woke up in the hospital.

Why isn’t he even trying to see me after what happened? How
could he not? He’s not a complete monster, so what is stopping him? He nearly
took my life and in return I saved his. That surely warrants a visit in the
hospital or at the very least a quick text to say “Hey, know I almost killed
you and all. Just wanted to see how you were feeling afterwards. Keep your chin
up”.

Maybe he doesn’t have my number. That’s the only rational
excuse I keep feeding myself. I suppose he can’t just walk up to just anyone
and ask for it. I’m Little Miss Unsocial. The only person that has it is Violet
and maybe a few people that I have study group with for my AP classes.

The rest of the weekend is spent lying in bed watching
movies and reading books. The parental units waited on me hand and foot even
when I refused to allow them. Sunday night my brother, Will, called from
California to see how I was holding up. I haven’t talked to him in weeks. It
was nice to have a chance to catch up. He questioned me about everything and
anything I can remember from that night. I tried to keep my story straight from
what I have already told everyone else. This could become difficult if everyone
keeps pestering me about every little minor detail.

Monday comes too quickly, more for my parents than me. I
think they would keep me hostage if they had any say in it. I am more than
ready to be back to school to be around actual people even if they ignore me.
Anything would be better than the mind numbing characters in the rom-coms I’ve
been subjecting myself to. Real life isn’t like the movies, unfortunately.

Violet shows up right on time, 7:30 AM-on the dot, just as I
expect. I throw my backpack over my shoulder and grab my crutches that are
leaning against the couch. Even after walking around with them over the weekend
I still don’t fully have the hang of them. I stumble every time I have to move
around. It is inevitable. I’m going to embarrass myself at some point today.

It takes me as long as I thought it would to get out of the
house. I am going to have to take in account how much time it will take me to
get around school until I am feeling better. I’m seconds away to cutting the
cast off and burning the crutches. I would be happier rolling around in one of
those motorized scooters that you see obese people cruising around on.

“Come on slow poke. You’re walking like your legs broken or
something. You know some people get run over by cars and move faster than your
ass is right now,” Violet shouts out the passenger side window of the car that
her parents bought her for her sixteenth birthday. It was an impressive red
mustang. It fits her personality perfectly, bold and sleek.

Violet’s parents are filthy rich. Her mom is a doctor and
her father is involved in politics, whatever that means. Secretly I think he is
involved with some illegal activity. The man is scary. They adore her and
pretty much hand anything she wants over on a silver platter.

“Ha-Ha. You are so very funny. Can you at least swing the
door open for me?” I point one of my crutches at her unopened door. She pushes
it open for me and I throw my crutches in the back before sliding into the seat
beside her.

Violet turns out of my driveway and makes the short drive to
school. We stay quiet until she breaks the silence. “Just a heads up, there’s a
bit of a rumor that your leg nearly got chopped off in the accident,” she
explains with a boisterous laugh.

A laugh bubbles up from my stomach at what she just said.
“Seriously, doesn’t anyone have anything better to do than spread rumors about
what happened?” I ask digging in my purse for my phone. I stare at the screen.
Still nothing. I’ve officially crossed over into pathetic.

“What’s that look on your face? You look like someone just
told you that your favorite author died.”  I just shook my head as if nothing
is bothering me. She doesn’t push the subject. “Wait till you hear all the shit
people have been saying though, Ken.” She laughs filling the car with easiness
finding the situation amusing.

“This should be an interesting first day back.” I try to act
as if it all doesn’t bother me. I hate being the center of attention. That’s
why it took me as long as it did to get onto the stage in front of the entire
school. The thought of having everyone’s attention nearly throws me into a
full-fledged panic attack. Maybe I should have taken a few extra days off like
my mom and dad suggested this morning.

We park in the same spot Violet has always parked in.
Everyone knew it was her space and respected the unwritten law. No one wanted
to be yelled at by a fiery redhead first thing in the morning. Thankfully it is
in the front row. I grab my crutches and backpack to make my way into the
school. It isn’t a huge school, but it is large enough for me to get tired from
walking from the front entrance to my locker.

It may be my imagination or the pain killers that the
doctors have me taking every four hours as if my life depends on it, but it
feels like everyone is staring holes in the back of my head. I make the
dreadful journey to my locker avoiding any eye contact with anyone in
particular. I balance as best as I can on one leg to put the combination in to
gain access to my school work. It takes me a few tries, but I finally get the
hang of it and pop the lock off. I quickly grab my books for my first class
from the shelf in my locker. My attempt to balance everything in one arm while
trying to grab the crutches that were still leaning against the bank of lockers
is an epic failure.

I know it’s going to happen before I can do anything to stop
it. My books fall out of my hands as the crutches slide down the blue lockers
causing a loud crash. It isn’t even 8AM and I want to crawl into a deep, dark
hole.

“Damn it,” I whisper under my breath hoping no one hears me
curse. The word felt dirty passing through my lips. I’m too aggravated to care.
I bend down the best that I can on one leg to pick up the books I dropped. It
appears that no one is willing to help me.
Violet, where are you when I need
you?
I see another set of hands gathering up my books and papers that I
can’t quite reach.

“Are you okay?” a deep voice asks startling me. I don’t
notice who the helpful stranger is until I look up and see that everyone in the
hallway has stopped what they are doing. The noise level is eerily silent.
Loudly silent, if that’s even a thing. They are all looking at me even more
than they were before. Once my brain registers who’s standing in front of me, I
know that they aren’t looking at me after all. They are watching him with
curious eyes, waiting to see what he is planning to do.

“I’m fine,” I whisper snatching the stack of books from his
outstretched hands. “Thanks.” I wasn’t trying to hide the venomous tone in my
voice. Graham throws his hands in front of him in obvious retreat.

A whole nine days went by before Graham had the nerve to ask
me anything and his first thing he chooses to say is “Are you okay?” Of course
I’m not okay. I was ran over by a boy I went to high school with who has never
spoken more than twenty words to me since freshman year and I was naïve enough
to think that he owed me something.

Like I said before…pathetic!