Untouched

Damn.

“Mom didn’t come home?” I ask, and I know the answer, even before she replies.

“Nope.”

The guilt gets worse as I imagine Brit alone in the house, waiting for Mom to stumble through the door in Lord-knows-what kind of a state. No wonder she went out partying rather than wait up all night for someone who might not come home. “What about your brother?” I ask.

“Ray Jay bailed in the morning, said something about a friend in Mobile.” Brit is silent for a second, then adds in a small voice. “Can you get some cereal on your way home? There’s no food in the house.”

“Sure,” I promise quickly, “I’ll pick up some groceries before I head to work. And, I’m sorry, OK? I should have called.”

“Whatever.” The sullen tone is back in Brit’s voice. “I’m heading to the beach with some people later. Don’t wait up.”

She hangs up, leaving me feeling like the worst damn brother in the world. Brit likes to talk tough, but I know that under everything, she’s still just a kid. A kid who shouldn’t have to deal with this shit, not if I can help it.

I quickly call my boss back at the bar and let him know I picked up the supplies he ordered, then I start the engine, and hit the road back to Cedar Cove. It’s an hour’s drive, and I throw on a mix CD full of angry rock songs. Even though the noise makes my head pound even harder, I need the noise—anything to drown out the guilt and shame trailing me, every mile I put between myself and last night’s meaningless conquest.

It’s a cloudy day, and as I head onto the coastal highway, it starts to rain: a grim drizzle, spattering against the truck windows. Despite the weather, summer season’s already started, and soon the road home will be packed with tourists and their rental cars, heading out to enjoy the small beach town for a few weeks. For now, it’s empty, save me and the car up ahead: a beat-up old Civic driving fast above the speed limit. I ease back and follow behind in lane, letting the music rattle through my brain, trying to numb the dirty, sleepless morning-after feeling itching in my veins.

I shouldn’t have done it. The bar, the booze, the girl. None of it. I’ve been there so many times before: a different place, another girl, and it always winds up the same, with me sneaking out the morning after, feeling like a piece of shit excuse for a human being. I don’t know why I keep trying, when I know how it’s going to end. I guess I still have this hope, that one of these days I’ll find it: that elusive escape. Some moment of peace. A way for the world to make sense—and someone who understands it.

Understands me.

The music goes silent at the end of the mix, leaving my thoughts way too loud. I reach over to find another CD.

Suddenly a bang sounds from the road.

What the--?

I look up in time to see the car in front spin wildly out of control—skidding on the wet highway, heading straight back towards me.

I yank the wheel around, swerving with everything I’ve got. Time slows as the other car skims past, just inches from the truck. I feel a shot of adrenalin racing through me, hanging on the edge as I desperately try to control my spin. I can see the passengers in the front of the other car as it careens past, but I can’t make out their faces. Then the truck hurtles off the road and I slam to a stop in a bank of sand and mud.

Silence.

I catch my breath, heart pounding in my chest from the near miss. Damn, that could have been bad. A head-on collision, in this weather? We’re lucky nobody drove off into the bay, or worse still, wound up with their brains splattered over the windshield from impact.

I shut off the engine and climb down, checking to see if the other car is OK. It’s come to a stop askew on the side of the highway, so I turn back to check out my damage. My truck is buried hood-deep in a sandbank. It doesn’t look too bad—the sand cushioned the impact, but now, there’s no way I’m getting it out without a tow truck. All this, and I should have been at work an hour ago.

A flash of motion catches my eye: a girl is hurrying away from the other car, away from me, like she doesn’t even care she just nearly ran us both off the road.

I feel a flash of anger and start after her. “Hey!” I call through the rain. She doesn’t turn, or even slow down, so I break into a jog after her. “Hey, wait up!”

I grab her arm and pull her around, her arm slight and soft under my grip.

“What?” She yanks back like she’s been burned. “What the f**k do you…?” Her words die on her lips as she stares up at me.

I stare back – taking in the soft pink of those lips, and then, slowly, everything else.

She’s young, eighteen or nineteen maybe, but radiating this fierce energy, like she’s wound way too tight. Her face is pale, heart-shaped and framed with tangled curls of dyed-black hair, but it’s her eyes that seem to sear right through me: thick-lashed jewels that lock fast on mine, not even blinking.

Suddenly the pounding in my head stops. Everything stops. It’s like she can see through me, like she sees everything I am.

I can’t look away.

The moment spins out for an eternity, everything else just fading away, like we’re caught in the eye of a storm. My chest tightens with a feeling I don’t recognize, some kind of recognition.

But that’s crazy. I’ve never met this girl before.

Sense finally breaks through my weird daze and I drag my eyes away. It’s like breaking a circuit: whatever weird sensation just flooded through me disappears. Now I’m just stuck on the edge of the rainy highway, feeling like a total dumbass.