In an Instant (12 page)

“I’ll go out doing something I love; isn’t that the best way to go?” He gives me a wicked smile.

I knew Jake was in pain, but I didn’t realize how deep it was. He would never speak like this; he would never say the words that just came out of his mouth. I’m in such shock I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.

He looks at me with his dangerous smile. He’s made his decision, and he’s clearly lost touch with reality. I hope, after being at Marcus’s funeral tonight, he will get his grasp back. Hopefully, it will knock some sense into him.

Without another word, he turns away from me and pushes through the gym doors. I hear him shout something, but it’s muffled. Then I hear cheers and shouts. Everyone’s excitement tells me exactly what he just announced.

I can’t bring myself to go back into the gym and watch people congratulate him on something so stupid and dangerous. Therefore, I leave, even though we are in the middle of practice. There’s a first for everything.

Chapter Seventeen

After the End

Marcus’s funeral was by far the most difficult thing I have ever done in my entire life. It was more difficult than seeing him in the hospital; more difficult than seeing the paramedics desperately work on Jake’s lifeless body the night of the accident; more difficult than leaving Marcus’s room for that last time, knowing it was good-bye forever.

Having people tell me how sorry they are, knowing what I did the very night of the accident, is something I will never be able to forgive myself for. I should have told him. I owed him that. I just ran out of time.

It was all excruciating, but having a hysterical Bea hug me and tell me it’s going to be okay was enough to push me over the edge. I envy her innocence, her blind love for Marcus. That’s what he deserved, and I despise myself for accepting her embrace, her sympathy. I don’t deserve any of it. Everyone’s compassion was difficult, but hers, knowing how she felt about Marcus, was deplorable.

Watching Jake tonight broke my heart all over again. I saw how torn up he is. He was a mess, and I know most of it is because he loved Marcus. They have been best friends for as long as I can remember. Where there was Jake, there was Marcus; it was a given. I also know the rest was from guilt, because I have the same guilt coursing through my veins. I threw up three times already, and I’m grateful to finally be in the safety of my tree house.

One thing that was clear tonight is how much Marcus is loved. Literally the entire school was there, maybe the entire town. There were cops directing traffic due to the amount of cars. They had people in several different overflow rooms with a television feed so they could hear whoever was speaking. His parents were showered with love and incredible stories from everyone. It was an amazing way to celebrate his amazing life. Nate, Dax and Cam spoke, but not Jake. I’m sure he didn’t know what to say, given how much was unsaid between them.

Luke gave an incredibly beautiful tribute to his brother. Those were the only words I heard him speak the entire night. He spoke to no one, said nothing.

Most of his best friends from high school came back home from college to support him, and some of his fraternity brothers drove down from school. He didn’t talk to any of them, only stared at the pictures of Marcus lining the walls. Pictures of him with our group throughout the years: Marcus in his basketball uniform, Marcus with the team from the last three state championships, Marcus and our crew at prom last year. That’s all that is left. No new pictures will ever be taken, no new memories.

My stomach twists with that thought as I squeeze myself into the fetal position to try to will away the pain. It’s so deep I don’t think anything will ever be able to take it away.

I hear a faint knock from underneath me, and I squeeze my eyes shut more tightly. I tell myself to ignore the slamming of my heart from just the thought of whom that knock belongs to.
Ignore it. He will go away eventually
.

I hear the creak of the hinges as the door opens.

“Dani,” he whispers, his voice gentle. “I know you’re in here.”

“So?” I say, not returning his kind tone. I need him to go.

“I need to talk to you,” he says so sweetly and filled with so much desperation it makes me turn around. “Do you know what it’s like climbing up that ladder with three broken ribs?” He smiles, and my heart reacts, but my head screams for it to stop.

“Probably exactly what it will feel like to play basketball with three broken ribs,” I say as I turn my back to him and resume the fetal position.

“Okay, I deserve that.” His body weight causes the mattress to sag as he sits down next to me. I feel his fingers glide through my hair and run down my back. His touch is incredibly gentle while he slides his hand up and down my spine. “It’s okay, Dani,” he says softly as he continues to gently stroke my back.

I didn’t realize how much I needed this comfort, craved it. My body relaxes for a second, and whatever I was holding in—all the stress, tension, and deep sadness—starts to pour out of me. I feel myself come undone. For once, I accept it. I don’t hold back, and it feels so good to let it all out.

“It’s okay,” Jake repeats softly over and over. “I’m here,” he whispers. “I know. It’s going to be okay.”

I can’t bring myself to speak and I’m slightly embarrassed that I’m completely losing it in front of him. I’m self-aware enough, even in the middle of my breakdown, to register that. Nevertheless, I don’t let it stop me. I can’t. I need to let this out. I’ve held it in for too long. I can barely catch my breath. I can’t control myself. I don’t want to.

Jake continues to slide his hand up and down my back as I heave for breath. His touch is perfect. His words are perfect.

After what feels like hours, I pull myself together enough to form words. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I know,” he says gently to the back of my head, his hand never stopping its gentle motion. “I can’t, either.”

The room is filled with silence except for my heavy, hysterical breathing. Then Jake finally speaks again.

“I hate myself for everything. I couldn’t even give a speech at his funeral tonight. There are so many funny stories I should have shared.”

“Like what?” I ask through my calming sobs.

“Like the time when we were nine, and we challenged each other to see who could eat the most McDonalds, we ate so much we were sick for two days.”

I can’t help laughing, remembering how ridiculously sick they were.

“Or when we were twelve, and we swore off girls forever. That lasted about ten minutes until Marc found out that Rachel Smith had a crush on him.”

I smile to myself. I remember Rachel Smith. She was worse than Bea.

“What else?” I ask, needing to hear more.

“Or the time we both ran away from home.”

I laugh. “I’m pretty sure you both came to live here.”

“Yeah, that lasted a whopping five hours until we realized food cost money, and we didn’t have any.” I hear the smile in his voice, but then, just as quickly, it’s as if I hear it drop away. “I wanted to tell everyone what a great friend and amazing person he is—was—but I couldn’t do it. I failed him even in death.”

“Jake.” I turn to face him, and when my eyes land on his, I see how puffy and red they are. He seems like a pillar of strength, yet he needs this talk as much as I do. “That’s not true, and you know it. If he were here, if he knew how you felt, he’d be furious. He would never say that you failed him. Never.”

Jake turns and pulls his hand away from me. I can tell he has more to say, but I see the concrete wall quickly go back up, it’s been there since he found out about Marcus.

I reach out to touch him this time, running my fingers down his back. “What, Jake? What are you not telling me?”

He shakes his head, not turning around.

The silence stretches between us.

“I miss you,” he finally whispers with his eyes still locked on the plywood wall.

“We can’t,” flies out without even a thought.

“Why?”

“You know why,” I say with disbelief as I pull my hand away.

Jake turns to face me, his eyes a light golden brown accentuated by the deep red veins running through them. They are focused in a way I have never seen. “He knew, Dani.”

“What?” I could not have heard him correctly.

Jake closes his eyes and shakes his head as he presses his lips together. It’s clear he doesn’t want to say more, but I push.

“How do you know?”

He opens his eyes, and they meet mine again, but for once, I’m so focused on his words my body gives no other reaction. “That night at Lucas’s party, when we all went to get beer, Marcus pulled me back from the group. He said he wanted to talk. Then he told me he knew about us. He said he always knew deep down.” Jake looks up to the ceiling. “He probably knew before we did.” He gives a small, uncomfortable laugh.

“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not possible.”

Jake pulls my chin up so my eyes are locked on his. “It’s true, Dani. I didn’t want to tell you. I thought it would hurt you more to know he knew, but seeing you tonight, I knew you needed the truth.”

I study his eyes. He’s telling the truth. I would be able to tell if he were lying. He always looks away when he lies.

“What did he say?” My voice cracks.

Jake fully turns his body so we are face-to-face. Then he runs his thumb over mine. “We were walking to the kegs, and he just said, ‘I know.’ That was the last thing I was expecting, and I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I knew I had to play it cool, so I asked, ‘Know what?’ He stopped me and just looked at me in that way he always did, like he was saying a million things with that one look.”

I smile because I know that look. I can see it so clearly.

“So, I didn’t argue. There was nothing to say. I couldn’t deny it. Then he asked me, ‘You always have, haven’t you?’ And I couldn’t deny that, either.” Jake gives me a smile that reveals his dimples. “It was a pretty one-sided conversation, really.”

We both laugh, knowing how in control Marcus always was. Once he had his mind set, there was no stopping him or changing it.

“Then he said, ‘We’ll figure it out,’ and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and we got beers just like we always did.” Jake smiles again, this one more to himself at the memory.

I see tears welling up in his eyes when they land back on mine. “Don’t you see, Dani? He knew, and he still loved us. I didn’t really see it that way until just now, because I couldn’t see past losing him, past the guilt. But being here with you … We’re right together, and I think, no matter how painful, Marcus knew that.”

“Then why does it feel so wrong? Mel hates us both, and if Marcus were here, he probably would, too. He was just on a high from the win that night.”

“No.” Jake shakes his head with a smile. “Don’t you see that’s not true? Mel just needs time, but Marcus knew that night. He knew, and he still swapped with you. What does that tell you?”

His words slam into my chest.
He knew.
I never thought that was a possibility. He knew when we switched seats. It was like his way of supporting it—us.

Jake’s words melt over me. I start to tremble as I absorb them.

“I don’t know. I just need time, Jake,” I whisper. It feels wrong to leave Marcus’s funeral and then be with Jake. It would be wrong to walk down the hallway at school with Jake, to kiss him in front of Marcus’s locker. It feels wrong even if it’s what I want.

“I know,” Jake returns my whisper. His eyes are locked on mine as he uses his thumbs to wipe my cheeks that I’m sure are streaked with so much mascara at this point it’s humiliating. “Hey, there’s one more thing.”

“I’m not sure I can handle anything else at the moment.” I try to force a smile.

“I know you’re nervous about the game.” He continues to run his thumbs across my cheeks. “I kind of love that you are.” He gives me a smile, revealing his deep dimples. “But I have to play.”

I place my hand over his that’s still resting on my cheek. “I know.” I tell him, making sure to take in every inch of him. I need to remember this moment just in case it’s our last one. I need to remember every detail: his smile, his dimples, his gorgeous eyes and the love that they are filled with for me.

No matter what happens, I know this is what he has to do. Playing is like breathing for him, and if he didn’t play, he would never be able to live with himself. He needs this, but I need him, even if I can’t admit that out loud yet. Instead, I say a silent prayer that nothing will happen to him. I couldn’t handle that. Whether we are together or not, I cannot handle losing anyone else I love.

Chapter Eighteen

Bus to State

I’m on the bus with the rest of the squad on our way to state. I’m grateful for my noise canceling headphones as I drown myself in music in order to avoid the reality surrounding me.

The bus rides were always one of the best parts of being a cheerleader—time with the girls, secrets that were only shared in the safe zone of the bus. I have never laughed harder than on bus rides to and from games. That is one more thing that will never be the same.

The game is two hours away, and I’m already planning to sit here in silence, stewing in memories, instead of participating in real life. The rest of the girls are hyena-type laughing at something in the back of the bus.

There is a loud thump as someone lands in the seat next to me. I look over to see Em. She’s laughing about something as she gestures for me to take out my earbuds.

“Come on, D. Come back there with us.” I know she means well, but I also know I can’t.

Most of the girls don’t know the truth. They think I’m up in the front, alienating myself from the fun because of Marcus, so they don’t bother me out of respect. In reality, however, I can’t bring myself to face Mel. I know she doesn’t want me back there, and for once, I need to respect her wishes.

“Thanks, Em, but I can’t.”

She gives me a flat smile with a shrug. “I miss you,” she whispers. “Are you okay?” she asks with such sincerity. I know she’s a good friend, though her loyalty is to Mel.

I squeeze my lips together to try to avoid revealing my actual feelings. Instead, I nod. “Yeah, I’m okay.” I say what she needs to hear and return her sweet smile. Then I put my earbuds back in, giving her permission to go back to the excitement.

I turn the music up to drown out the rest of the world. The only problem is this is a playlist Marcus made me. He would always take my phone and make the greatest playlists. Half of the time, I didn’t know he was doing it. Then they would pop up and surprise me whenever I was going through my music. I’d find hidden gems all the time. He had a gift for stringing the perfect songs together and giving them the best titles.

I run my fingers over the screen where his words are staring back at me.
I Love Turkey
. This was my thanksgiving mix. It makes me laugh. They are all songs that express things we should be thankful for. “I Like Big Butts” by Sir-Mix-A-Lot is currently playing. Marcus was amazing at always throwing in hilarious, old school throwbacks.

“Always” by I Fight Dragons comes on next, and my eyes instantly glaze over with tears. Thankfully, I’m alone in my seat, so I quickly wipe them away, but they keep coming, faster than my hands can wipe them away.

The lyrics remind me of Marcus, and they also make me think of Jake.

My stomach flips over with nerves. I cannot get sick on this bus. Throwing up seems to be my reaction whenever I think about either of them. I can’t seem to bring myself to eat lately, and when I do, it generally comes back up anyway, thanks to all the stress and nerves.

I don’t want Jake to play today. I have a really bad feeling, but I need to push it away, knowing it’s out of my control.

One of Marcus’s favorite songs comes on, “We Don’t Believe What’s On TV” by Twenty One Pilots. My heart starts to palpitate, my throat constricts, and I can’t catch my breath. Every song reminds me of Marcus. We listened to this mix together all the time, sharing earbuds. I need to calm down.

Pull yourself together.

I start to concentrate on breathing, which seems to be the only thing that can calm me down these days.

In, out. In, out. Focus on that. Only that.

I begin to regain control. I’m so conflicted by both the past and the present. There is so much love yet also so much sadness that it’s hard to see past it.

The seat next to me dips again, and I quickly wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand as I turn, expecting to see Hanna or Em, the only two brave enough to approach me. Instead, it’s Coach McCann.

“Coach.” I say, trying to hide that I’m an emotional mess.

“Conner,” she says as her eyes scan me. No one calls me by my last name except Coach. “How you doing?” Her expression tells me she cares, though she’s masking it with her rough exterior.

You don’t mess with Coach McCann; she’s no nonsense. Always. She runs a tight ship. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a real conversation with her.

“I’m good,” I answer, the same response I give everyone.

“Conner, I have eyes.” She raises her eyebrows.

Shit.

I start to study the seat in front of me. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” I’m not used to adults caring.

She places her hand on my shoulder. “You can start with the truth.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I haven’t really talked about anything to anyone other than Jake. Where do I even begin?

“It’s complicated,” I respond with my eyes still locked on the green stretched pleather making up the seat back in front of me.

“I’ve got two hours to kill.” She smiles. “Listen, Marcus was a hell of a kid and player, and I know you were close. I lost a good friend once. I know the pain is unimaginable, but it gets easier with time. It doesn’t mean you’ll ever forget, but it gets easier to remember all the good. You’ve just gotta hang in there.”

She squeezes my shoulder as she continues, “You can’t shut yourself off from life, from feeling. That’s not what he would want. This game is going to be tough for everyone, but try to enjoy it as if he were out there, because I believe he is. He will be. If anything, let this tragedy help you embrace each moment, not run away from it.”

She smiles as she pats my leg. “I’ll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing. Just try to remember to enjoy this moment. Embrace life for him; don’t run away from it because of him.”
My eyes lock with hers. “He wouldn’t want that.” She gives me a smile then pulls herself up to rejoin the assistant coaches at the front of the bus.

Her words seep into me. She doesn’t know the full story. Regardless, what she said resonates in a way it never has before, and I remember what Jake said:
he knew, and he still swapped.

No matter what, Marcus would want me to be happy. He would want Jake to be happy. Most of all, he would want this win, and he would want Jake to play to get it.

I feel at peace for once … with everything. I always respected Coach, but I never thought she would be able to help me through this. She is right; I have to stop running. I need to start feeling, no matter how scary it is.