Elliott

 

Sailor and I sit on opposite ends of the couch, and it’s weird because I feel uncomfortable not being close to her. It’s like we’re teenagers who are feeling out the water, unsure of whether the other wants to sit close or not.

We settle on the move Atomic Blonde with Charlize Theron. She’s badass, but the unexpected scene of car carnage sends my mind spiraling ten years back.

 

“Even though Sailor’s sticking to her story, we know you were driving when the accident occurred, Elliott,” Mr. Lockwood says to me sternly. We’ve spoken to the police in-depth.

“The pair of flip-flops Sailor was wearing that night were in the rear floorboard, and your seat was pushed too far back. Sailor is short and never could’ve reached the pedals.”

Mrs. Lockwood weeps, covering her mouth with the tissue she’s been using to wipe away her tears. My mother is sitting next to her on the sofa, looking at Carolyn helplessly.

I thought I couldn’t feel any worse about the accident, but I do. Mrs. Lockwood has always been good to me. Sailor got her kindness from her mom. Rebecca got her manipulating skills from her father.

“We discussed this the night of the accident. Sailor confessed,” my father states. He’s the king of manipulation. “I’m sure she pushed the seat back after the crash to get out of the Rover quickly, and there could be another explanation for the shoes.

“Maybe they were covered in sand, so she tossed them in the back when she got behind the wheel.” My father looks at me with his glacial eyes, the warning permanently etched over the ice years ago. “Elliott, go to your room.”

Nodding, I slip out of the living room, but I only go halfway up the stairs so I can listen.

“Randall, I’m sure the last thing you want is for this incident to become a scandal. You have a successful company, and I’m a judge. We’re well-known in the community. Think of how damaging this could be for both our families.”

“I have thought about it. We buried our daughter today, so the last thing we want is more stress and attention on our family.”

“Exactly. Everyone understands accidents happen. Sailor was trying to help, driving her sister and friend home after they had too much to drink, but imagine if the public discovered Sailor lied, that she and Elliott covered up a crime. Then, it’s no accident. Your daughter will never be looked at again as one of the victims.”

“I didn’t think of it that way.”

“I believe we need to let this go. I know Elliott is being punished with guilt, and an investigation would only cause further unnecessary pain to everyone involved.

“It could cost Elliott and Sailor their Ivy League educations, as well. What if Sailor’s been telling the truth all along? The scandal would be for nothing.”

The house becomes chillingly silent, and I picture Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood staring at each other, weighing their decision.

“We’ll agree to this, but only if Elliott never speaks to Sailor again. It’s obvious he has some influence over her, so I don’t want rumors spreading about the two of them or people questioning the accident.

“Not to mention, seeing him would only be a constant reminder for Sailor of the loss of her sister and the burden she’ll now carry forever. Elliott shouldn’t want that for her.

“We’ll never forget Rebecca, but maybe we can all put the accident behind us, and distancing our families from one another is the most effective way.”

“I agree, and I’ll make that very clear to Elliott,” my father states. I can imagine the smile he’s struggling not to show. He won the battle, and I lost the two most important girls in my life. I quietly finish walking up the stairs and call my friend Thomas.

“Hi, can you pick me up? I have to get the hell out of this house.”

 

“Elliott, Elliott.” Sailor turns my head to face her, so I blink a few times fast. Her eyes, full of worry, search mine as she holds my face. She’s on her knees at my side as I sit on the couch.

“Are you OK?” Skimming her fingers across my forehead, she frowns. “You’re sweating. Do you feel sick?” I manage to shake my head as I swallow to quench my dry mouth.

“Why did you do it?” I ask.

She sinks back on her legs. “Do what?”

“Why did you tell the cops you were driving? Why did you do it? The other driver fled, probably because that person was drinking, too, so I might not have been in trouble.”

Tears flood her eyes, but her lips purse with anger.

“I did it to save you. To make sure your father didn’t kill you, which wasn’t an unrealistic thought to have. I did it so you could still go to an Ivy League college and have a future.”

“There’s no way you could’ve considered all those things in mere seconds at that age.”

“Well, I did. Every time I saw you with a new injury, I worried myself sick that the next time he’d kill you. Rebecca told me things...” Tears escape from the corners of her eyes.

What have I done by revisiting the past?

“When I saw you sobbing and holding Rebecca’s lifeless body on the side of the road, I couldn’t imagine you having to deal with anything else. You were drinking, Elliott, and all I could think about was the trouble you’d likely be in for that alone.”

“You shouldn’t have given that statement, and I should’ve told them it was a lie. I’ll never understand why you did it.”

Sailor shoves my body. “I did it because I loved you!” With round eyes, she tries to move away, but from how she’s sitting on her legs, she falls onto her back. Her heels dig into the couch, to get away from me, but I pounce, refusing to think about the consequences.