Crashing Into You (22 page)

I lowered my head, perplexed.
“You sure you don’t have me confused with someone else? I don’t think Melanie
would have said that about me.”

“Sydney Baker, right? Her
roommate?”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, it was about you.” She
tapped my hat against the side of her leg.

“Really? Well… I'm happy to
hear that. Thanks for telling me.”

“No problem.”

I approached the door and
reached for the handle, but another question entered my head, and I had to ask
it. I looked back at Michelle. “What brings you all the way out to Marina Del
Rey? I thought you lived in Chatsworth.”

“I do. Well... I did. I’m
living here now. I just moved into the dorms last night.”

My eyes widened. “The dorms?”

She turned to the mirror, quickly
blotted her lips. Then she looked back at me. “Yeah. At LMU.”

My heart dropped. “Say again?”

“What?”

“You’re going to LMU?”

“Uh huh.” She flashed me an
obnoxious grin. “I just did freshman orientation last week. Isn’t it the
prettiest campus you’ve ever seen in your
life
?”

I nodded, and leaned against
the door. “Uhh, yeah. Yeah, I guess.” Melanie's younger sister had enrolled at
LMU? For real? I tried not to scream a second time. “Well… I guess I’ll see you
around then.”

“Absolutely,” she said. “Can
I get your number? Maybe we can have coffee sometime, after I get settled. I
don’t really know anyone on campus yet.”

I didn’t get back to the
table for another five minutes. I ended up giving Michelle my phone number and
e-mail, even though avoiding her on campus was to become my new impossible
mission. When I returned to the trio, the question was obvious. But my answer
had to be ambiguous, at least for now.

“Sorry about that, I bumped
into a friend from school,” I said, and offered no further details.

Lukas pointed at the plate in
front of me. “We were good. Nobody had a single bite.”

I looked down. The cake looked
delicious enough to devour—but I had lost my appetite. “Thanks.”

Evan nudged me in the
shoulder. “Hey, where’s your hat?”

“What?” I touched the top of
my head.

I had left it with Michelle.

Chapter 25

Evan dug his head into the pillow
as he pounded himself against me for the better part of ten minutes, but I
wasn’t able to give a lot back. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders but
couldn’t summon up the enthusiasm to moan even a quarter as much as he was.
When he kissed me, he kept his lips pressed against mine for a long while—but
then he stopped moving.

“Are you all right?” he finally
asked, staring down at me. “What's the matter?”

“I’m fine. Keep going.” I kissed
him back, tried to pretend like I was in the mood. But my mind was elsewhere. I
knew it, and he knew it. Evan stopped again, and brought his hands to my
cheeks. “Come on, what is it? Something's up.”

“Sorry, I’m just... I'm having
a little trouble concentrating.”

“Why? What's on your mind?”
He rolled off me, and lay down on his side.
 

I was still reeling from
seeing Michelle. But I had no intent of telling him about my awkward,
longwinded encounter with her at the restaurant. Even though her presence on this
side of L.A. was to remain a secret until, oh, Monday, I decided to focus on
the real root of my problem. “I’m just nervous about going back to school,
that's all. I haven’t been on campus all summer, and I know it’s gonna be super
weird. Everywhere I look will remind me of Melanie.”

He put his hand on my
shoulder. “I know. It’s gonna be really hard for me, too.”

“I just can’t stop thinking,
you know, what classes would she have taken? What was her commute to school
gonna be like?” I pulled the covers over my neck, and stared up at the ceiling.
“Mostly, I’m thinking, would she be doing this with you, at this very moment,
if she hadn’t died?”

“Syd, come on…”

“What?”

“We’ve talked about this. You
can’t think like that.” He stroked his thumb against my cheek. “Don't you love
me?”

I scooted toward him, grabbed
hold of his strong yet gentle arms. “Of course I do. You know I do.”

“Good. Because I love you,
too. I don't care how hard this first week is gonna be. I'll make sure we get
through it together, okay?”

I nodded, and brought my
hands to the back of his head. “What do you…” I stopped, thought maybe I
shouldn't—but I knew I couldn’t avoid it, not anymore. “What do you know
about Melanie’s sister?”

His eyes opened wide, like he
had expected me to ask pretty much anything but that. “About Michelle?”

“Uh-huh. I lived with Melanie
for two years, and she barely mentioned her. Did Melanie ever talk about her?”

He shook his head. “Not
really. I don’t think they were super close. They would see each other at
holidays and things, but that was about it.”

Not exactly the juicy
response I was looking for. “Well, what about you? Did you ever spend any time
with her?”

“Just at Christmas. But she
was gone most of the weekend.” He laughed, and tapped his fingers against my
chest. “What brought this up?”

Oh, nothing much, just that
the lookalike sister of his former girlfriend was going to be attending our college,
that's all.

I had no idea why I felt the
urge to keep the news about Michelle a secret. School was starting in two days,
and Evan was going to find out about her eventually. It was almost as if I
wanted the summer of just him and me, and no one else, to last a tiny bit
longer, even if it was only one more day.

“I was thinking about the
funeral,” I said, “and the look on her face when I asked if she was Melanie.
Didn’t that ever freak you out? How much they look alike? It's kind of eerie.”

Evan sat up. “I guess they do
a little, but... I never really thought about it. Most brothers and sisters
look pretty close, don’t they? My older brother's got blond hair, but we look really
similar.”

I wanted to contest his
claim—I had met his brother Liam once last year, and the two looked
nothing alike—but I could tell he wanted to change the subject. “Yeah, I
guess.”

“Are you thirsty? I’m gonna
get some water.” He pushed himself to the edge of the bed, but I stuck my arm
out, blocking him.

“No, no. Let me.” I put my
underwear on, and threw a random blue shirt over my head.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I need to stretch my
legs.”

“But it’s your
birthday
,” Evan said, emphasizing that
terrible word. “You shouldn’t be doing things for me.”
      

I glanced at the clock. 12:08
AM. “Actually, it’s not my birthday anymore. You’re off the hook.” I leaned
back, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yes, of course I did.”

“You barely had anything to
drink though. Did you even finish that glass of wine?”

I set my hand on top of his. “Evan,
you should know that about me by now. I'm not much of a drinker.”

He gazed into my eyes, more seriously
than he had in days. “Why, Syd? Why are you so invested in being sober all the
time?”

I sat down Indian-style and
ran my hand through my hair. My trip to the kitchen was officially on hold. “It's
not that I don't
want
to have—”

“Because I get this feeling
from you sometimes,” he interrupted, “you know, that you do want to drink, that
you do want to have fun, but you force yourself not to. And that's what
concerns me more than anything. I mean, really. What are you so afraid of?”

I opened my mouth to say something,
but nothing came out. I pushed my palm against my chin, and looked down, at the
soles of Evan's feet. Finally: “It just can't ever happen again.”

“What can't?” he said.

“Kyle Lowe.”

The air in the room turned
still. “You mean... that boy? The boy your boyfriend killed—”

“The boy that
I
killed. It was both of us. James might
have been driving, but if I hadn't been so drunk, maybe I would've had some
fucking sense to tell him not to get behind the wheel.”

Evan sat up, leaned his chest
against my side. He put his arms behind my back. “It was an accident, Syd. It
wasn't your fault. You can't let it ruin your entire life.”

“He was nine years old, Evan,”
I said, as the tears came. I cried when I just thought about little Kyle, but
when I talked about him, there was no limit to my waterworks. “He was in third
grade. He played soccer, he liked to draw. He had so many friends.” I sat up
straight and closed my eyes. “He'd be almost twelve now. He had a whole life
ahead of him, he had so many dreams and so much to live for. And I took that
away. Because I wanted to drink and have a little fun.”

Evan obviously didn't want to
combat me on this issue, not anymore. He just rubbed my back and said, “Shh,
it's okay, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry,” I said. I looked
into Evan's eyes. “But if my staying sober will save a life, just one, then
it's all worth it. I could barely live with myself after what happened, and
there's no way—literally none—I'd be able survive if it happened a
second time. No one will ever die if I'm behind the wheel, Evan. I can promise
you that. And if someone else is driving, if I have the slightest sense that
they've had even one too many drinks, I'll strike them down, I swear to God.”

My lips quivered. I started
breathing heavily. Evan stopped rubbing my back and instead took my hands, and
pulled me close. He kissed me on my cheek, then my forehead. He looked into my
eyes. “You are an amazing person, Sydney. I don't know what I've done to
deserve you, but I mean it when I say... you are the strongest person I know.”
He kissed me on the lips, and said, “I mean, really. Fuck alcohol. Who needs
it?”

I smiled, and hugged him
tight. “Thank you, Evan. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Same here,” he said.

I leaned back, and wiped my
tears away. “Okay. Now
I'm
the one
who's thirsty.” We both laughed, as I scooted to the edge of the bed. “Be right
back.”

“Don't be gone too long,”
Evan said, and rolled over on my cozy bed.

I walked into the kitchen. Grabbed
two cups from the cabinet. The Brita filter didn’t seem to be working, so I just
poured some tap water. I turned toward my bedroom door, when I heard the low
but noticeable creaking of a mattress coming from Lukas’s bedroom. I stopped in
my tracks. I should have kept walking, but I set the glasses down, and headed down
the hall.

The closer I got to his
bedroom, the louder the creaking became. I felt like the worst friend in the
world, but I had to do it; I pressed my ear up against the door.

“Oh Lukas… oh God…” a voice
said from the other side.

My jaw dropped. I had heard
them making out before, but never anything like this.

“Lukas…” Robert continued.
“Oh yeah… oh, right there… yeah, oh that feels so good...”

I pushed my hands against my
cheeks. I was too mortified to listen and way too curious to walk away. “Lukas
is a
top
?” I whispered. “
Really
?”
  
           

When Robert let out a
high-pitched squeal, I almost slipped on the slick hardwood. I raced back to
the counter, grabbed the waters, and returned to my bedroom.
   

Evan was still in bed, and he
wasn't moving. Had he fallen asleep already?

“Hey, get up,” I said. I threw
a pillow at his butt.
 

He stretched his arms out. “I’m
awake, I’m awake,” he said, as he rolled toward me. He had clearly been asleep.
“Oh. Thanks.” He took his glass and chugged most of the water.

When he set the glass on the
nightstand, I asked, “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He loudly
yawned.

I pushed my door open, just a
smidge. Robert was shouting all sorts of wild expletives from across the
apartment. Evan sat up, listened. He didn't understand at first. But then, when
a loud “oh fuck yeah!” practically shook the ground beneath us, his eyes grew
to the size of grapefruits.

“Oh my God, is that…”

I nodded. “Lukas and Robert.
Can you believe it?”

He listened for a few more
seconds, and quickly shook his head. “Jesus, they’re really going at it.”

“I know!”

I pulled off my underwear,
pushed Evan back against the bed, and straddled him. He got hard in a matter of
seconds.

“Do you think we can take
them?” I asked, with a wanting smile.

At first he looked at me like
I was kidding. I had just cried my eyes out to him, and now I was begging for
sex. “Are you... are you
sure
?”