Dr. Perry was so ecstatic with my progress Wednesday morning he gave me an assignment. Two, actually, not counting the talk I needed to have with Abbi and Dary.
“There are two things I want you to do,” he said. “Both are incredibly important to the grieving process. First off, I want you to dedicate one day a week to grief.”
My brows pinched. “Like, the whole day?”
“Not the whole day, unless you feel like you need that,” he clarified. “It can be just an hour or several hours. What I want you to do on that day is spend time remembering your friends. Look at old pictures, visit their social media accounts if they’re still available, write about them. I want you to think about them, remember them and process those feelings. Do you think you can do that?”
I could. It would be hard, especially looking at their pictures and seeing their last posts, but I could do it.
“Grieving them isn’t an easy thing to do, especially for you. Mainly because you feel a responsibility toward what happened. And it’s never easy grieving the deaths of those who ultimately played their own role in their deaths.” He rested his arms on the table. “I see a lot of anger and uncertainty when working with families of those who have overdosed. What you need to remember, at the end of the day, is that these people were your friends. No matter what happened, you cared about them and you are allowed to grieve them.”
Nodding slowly, I said, “I can do it.”
“What day?” he immediately followed up.
“Um.” I wrinkled my nose. “I could do Sunday evenings?” I also thought Sunday evenings were kind of depressing anyway.
“Sounds good. The second thing I want you to do is actually a commitment.”
I raised a brow.
“By the end of the year, I want you to visit their graves.”
My stomach immediately tumbled at the thought.
A sympathetic look filled his eyes. “I know. When you see their graves, it’ll be very final, but I think that for you, it’s necessary. You were unable to attend their services. Visiting their grave site may do more for you than just providing closure.”
Pressure clamped down on my chest, but I nodded. “I can do that.”
Because I had to.
Because I had made the decision to not let the choices I made on August 19 define my life or wreck it.
* * *
I was full of nerves at lunch, but I forced myself to eat what I think was lasagna but just looked like a lump of cheese and hamburger meat. Sebastian was back to sitting next to me, but his back was turned. He was having some deep conversation with one of the guys about the best hydrating drink or something. Keith was listening.
It was the perfect opportunity.
“So, um, I was wondering if you two wanted to grab something to eat after school?” I asked Abbi and Dary, sounding as awkward as if I was asking someone out on a date.
Dary’s eyes immediately lit up behind the glasses. “I think that would be great.” She glanced over at Abbi. “I don’t have plans.”
“I don’t know.” Abbi was peeling apart her lasagna with her fork. “I don’t think I’ll be hungry.”
Dary’s shoulders deflated.
I was prepared for this. “We could go to the smoothie place,” I suggested, knowing Abbi could never turn down a fresh smoothie. “We don’t have to go to a restaurant or anything like that.”
Abbi’s face was hard, but her gaze lifted to mine. My lower lip trembled as I leaned forward and whispered, “Please. I really want to talk to you guys.”
Her jaw softened, and I held my breath, because I really thought she’d shoot me down, but then she nodded. “Okay.”
Relief almost swept me out of my chair while Dary clapped like an overexcited seal. “Thank you,” I whispered to her.
Abbi didn’t respond, but she nodded, and that was something. That was enough for now.
* * *
Smoothies in hand, we found one of the booths in the back of the small restaurant. Abbi sat across from me and Dary. I’d gone with Old Faithful—a simple strawberry smoothie. Dary was more creative and went for something that had peanut butter in it. Abbi ordered a mango.
If Megan was here, she would’ve bypassed the smoothie and gone straight for the flatbreads, claiming she was doing it for the protein.
Dary had been chatting since we sat down, and the moment she quieted, Abbi asked, “So why did you want us to come here?”
I’d stopped with the straw halfway to my mouth. “Does there have to be a reason?”
“No,” Dary replied at the same time Abbi said, “Yes.”
Abbi elaborated a second later. “You haven’t wanted to do anything with us for months, so I’m figuring there’s a reason.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Dary stated gently.
“Maybe for you, but I’ve barely seen anything of her.” Abbi slurped down a mouthful of smoothie.
“Okay.” I held up my hand. “I deserve that. I haven’t been a good friend in the last couple of months. I know that. That’s why I wanted to talk to both of you today. I...I wanted to talk about the accident. About what happened that night.”
Dary dropped her arm onto the table. “You don’t have to.” Twisting toward me, her eyes were already shining. “We don’t have to do this.”
“But I do.” My gaze found Abbi’s. “I need to get this off my chest.”
And then I did.
I told them what I had told Sebastian, and it was easier simply because this was the third time I rewound that night, and it was less painful to bring myself back to that place. But it wasn’t easier to look Abbi or Dary in the eye. I made myself do it, because Abbi already knew the truth and Dary might’ve also suspected it, but I took that bitter weight of silence and I laid it out on the table between us, hoping that they would understand where my head had been since the accident but never once expecting forgiveness or acceptance.
As I spoke, Dary had pushed her glasses up and had covered her face, and I felt her shoulders tremble every so often. Continuing when I knew it was getting to her was like walking on heated shattered glass.
“I’ve been trying to work through all of that,” I finished, feeling sapped of energy. “And I know me dealing with my guilt isn’t a justification for shutting you guys out, and I...I don’t even expect you guys to be okay with it. I just needed to be honest.”
Abbi wasn’t looking at me. She’d stopped when I got to the part about asking Cody if he was okay to drive. She was fiddling with the straw, her lips pressed together.
My throat burned. “I’m just so sorry. It’s all I can say. I know it doesn’t change anything, doesn’t rewrite what has happened, but I’m so sorry.”
Dary lowered her hands. Her eyes glistened. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” I said, feeling shaky.
She wiped at her cheeks. “You know, I suspected this. I mean, I knew you didn’t drink a lot, and I’ve always wondered why you weren’t the one who was driving, but I... It sucks to be in that situation. To not want to piss everyone off but do the right thing.”
Abbi remained quiet.
“I should’ve done the right thing,” I said.
Dary’s breath shuddered out of her. “Yeah, you should’ve.”
Sitting back, I dropped my hands in my lap. What could I say beyond that? Beyond the truth? I’d known going into this that I might lose Dary, like I was sure I’d lost Abbi.
Then Abbi finally spoke. “You made...a mistake. A big freaking mistake,” she said, still staring at the bright yellow drink. “But that was all you did. You made a mistake.”
My breath caught. What I felt I couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t exactly absolution, but it was something powerful.
Dary looked at me, her cheeks damp. She didn’t say anything, but a moment passed, and she leaned over, resting her head on my shoulder. A tremor coursed through me, threatening to take over.
“Okay,” Dary said hoarsely. “All right. So, I would like some french fries right now, and this place doesn’t sell them.”
A watery laugh escaped me. “French fries sound perfect.”
Abbi shook her head, causing the two thick braids to swing at the sides of her neck. “You just drank an entire smoothie and you want fries?”
“I need salt right now. I need tons of salt.”
Abbi rolled her eyes.
“You know,” Dary said, lifting her head off my shoulder, “I still love you. I just want you to know that.”
Tears raced up my throat and I beat them back but didn’t trust myself to talk, so all I could do was nod.
The subject at the table changed, and by the time we walked out of the smoothie shop, it was almost normal. Almost like it was before.
But I still needed to talk to Abbi one-on-one before they searched down the fries.
I stopped by my car. “Abbi, can you hold on a second.”
Waving goodbye to Dary, she twisted around and faced me. Like when we were inside, some of that wall was down. Not a lot. But some.
“I know things are still weird between us, but I wanted to ask you about your parents. How is everything with them?”
Abbi opened her mouth and I braced myself for a snarky or snide response, but she said, “Mom hasn’t been ‘working late.’” Added air quotations with the last part. “And they’re not arguing nearly as much anymore. I don’t know if she’s admitted to something or not, but I guess they’re trying to make it work.”
I leaned back against my car. “That’s good, right?”
“Yeah. I guess so. At least we don’t have to listen to them try not to kill each other.” She knocked a braid back over her shoulder.
“I’m glad to hear that. Really.”
She nodded again and then took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something, okay?”
I tensed. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry about what I said to you about riding with Chris when he’d been drinking and it not being the same. I know it was, and you were right... I just got lucky.” She swallowed hard. “And I really am sorry for saying that to you. I shouldn’t have.”
I briefly closed my eyes tight. “It’s okay,” I said, because it was.
“I...wasn’t mad about you getting in that car. I mean, I was mad. I think anyone would be mad at first. But what pissed me off was the fact you shut me out. You shut all of us out.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I did.”
“Do you have any idea how that made us feel? I didn’t know how to help you. You wouldn’t let me or anyone else in to even try to figure it out, and that’s what really made me angry. I lost Megan, and it felt like I lost you, too.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. I just—”
“I get it. Your head wasn’t in the right place, and I...I should’ve done what Dary did. Given you space. Given you time.” She dipped her chin. “So I am sorry for that.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” I stepped toward her. “I don’t want any more apologies. I just want things to be...to be okay between us.”
“Me, too.” Abbi then popped forward and hugged me. It was quick, not like they used to be, but it was better than nothing and it was a start. She stepped back. “I have to get going, but I’ll text you later and you’ll answer, right?”
“Right.”
Abbi gave me a quick smile and then she was walking away, and I kind of wanted to cry. But these tears would’ve been so different from the ones from before.
So different.
* * *
Wednesday evening Sebastian was sitting on the bed, listening while I told him what had gone down that afternoon with Abbi and Dary, and then I told him what Dr. Perry wanted me to do.
“It’s been a big week or so for you,” he said when I finished.
I was sitting next to him, cross-legged with a pillow thrust in my lap. “It has.”
“How do you feel after talking to them?”
Shrugging, I held the pillow tighter. “Better. Relieved. At least now they know everything. I know it doesn’t change anything, and I know they are both disappointed, but it’s out there between us now and, yeah, it’s a relief,” I repeated.
“I get what you’re saying.” He cocked his head to the side. “Sometimes disappointment is worth the truth.” As he poked the pillow, a small grin played across his face. “You know, that night we got into it, you said something that was true.”
My brows rose. “I don’t think I said anything that was true.”
“No. You did.” He pulled the pillow out of my lap and put it behind him. “You were right about me not telling my dad about football.”
Oh. Hell. I’d forgotten how I’d thrown that in his face. I’d probably blocked it out.
“I talked to my dad.”
I jolted. “Seriously?”
“Yep.” He peered at me through thick lashes. “It didn’t exactly go over well.”
Popping up on my knees, I scooted closer to him. “What happened? Tell me everything.”
A brief grin appeared as I plopped down right in front of him. “I talked to him about a couple of weekends ago, actually. There’s really not much to tell. I was just honest.”
“And you’re just now telling me?” I smacked his arm. “Sebastian!”
“Hey.” He caught my hand, laughing. “We weren’t exactly being real talkative with one another, and you were dealing with other stuff.”
“True.” But I felt bad, because I should’ve had my head out of my butt long enough to have been there for him. I couldn’t change that, but I could be here for him now. “So what did he do?”
“He flipped out. Said I wasn’t thinking straight and that the accident had my head messed up. But I told him the truth—playing ball just isn’t something I’m that into now.” He lowered our joined hands to his knee. “I explained that I’d been feeling this way for a while.”
“Wow.”
“He didn’t speak to me for a straight week.” Sebastian laughed while I cringed. “But he seems to be trying to accept it. He’s talking to me at least, and I think Mom has been working on him.”
I squeezed his hand. “This is huge.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, biting down on his lower lip. “Looks like Dad won’t enter a downward spiral because of it, so that’s good.”
Grinning, I asked, “So now that you’ve officially decided to not do the college-football thing, what school are you thinking about?”
“God, there’s so much more opportunity now,” he said, his gaze drifting over my shoulder, to the map above my desk. “May stick around and do community college for a year, or maybe I’ll apply to Virginia Tech or—” his blue eyes fixed on mine “—UVA.” The hollows of his cheeks turned pink as I gaped at him. “Or somewhere else. Who knows? I’ve still got some time. Anyway,” he said, stretching out on the bed. He tugged on my hand. “Want to watch a movie?”
I studied his profile for a moment and then nodded. “Whatever you like.”
The answering grin warmed me, and I let him pull me down so I was lying next to him. I reached over, grabbed the remote off the nightstand and handed it to Sebastian. He started flipping through the free-movie section.
“Hey,” I said.
He turned those beautiful eyes to me.
“I’m proud of you. I just wanted to say that. I’m really proud of you.”
The grin turned into a blinding smile that stayed on his face the rest of the evening.