Authors: Michele Shriver
I breathe a sigh of relief when Amanda leaves Kori to meet up with Jaden. I don’t think they’re serious, rather he just likes the attention, but either way it doesn’t concern me. My focus is Kori, and I head over to where she’s sitting in the bleachers. The same place she was a couple months ago, but we’ve come so far since then.
“Hey.” I give her a soft kiss on the lips, then sit down beside her.
“Hey, yourself.” She greets with a smile, the same smile I love to see. The one that was so scarce in the beginning, so guarded, but now reveals itself more often.
“Did you enjoy practice?” I lean back in the bleachers, resting against the row behind me, and link my hand through hers.
“I guess,” she says. “I still like games better. Your slider’s looking good, though.”
“Thanks,” I say with a grin. “I’ve been working on it a lot, hoping it’s something the Colonials might struggle with.” Western Connecticut is likely our first game in the conference tournament, and I want to be ready.
“You guys will do great,” Kori says. “I still wish I could go.”
“Me too. I think you’re my good luck charm.” I lean over and give her another kiss. “But you’ll be there in spirit, right?”
“Absolutely. And following the game on the radio, or online, or whatever.”
I believe her, because she’s become my biggest fan and supporter over the past month. “You’re the best,” I say, kissing her again. I want more, but I also know she’s not ready, so I’m not going to push. “Besides, I need someone to take good notes for me in Psych class while I’m out of town.”
I mean it as a joke, but Kori’s smile fades. “Hey, is something wrong?” I ask, suddenly concerned. “Did I say the wrong thing?”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s not you. It’s me,” she says. “I just have a lot on my mind lately.”
“Sure, I know that.” After all, finals are coming up, and even though she doesn’t like to talk about it, also the anniversary of her mother’s death. It’s a lot of pressure for her. I stretch out, then stand up. “I’ve got to go shower and change, but do you want to meet up later?”
It’s basically a formality at this point. We always get together at the dining hall, then go do a little boxing, shoot some pool, or study. This time, Kori shakes her head. “Not today. I’ve got a project I need to work on for my Economics class.”
I frown. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Of course. It’s fine. I just need to work on this project.” She leans in and kisses me. “Go hang out with your friends, and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
.
~Landon~
W
e make it to the championship game of the conference tournament before losing to UMass- Boston six to two. Although it’s disappointing to come so close to making it to the NCAA Championships and falling short, it was still a successful season. We accomplished more than I expected from my freshman year, and I think all the guys are feeling optimistic about what we can achieve next season.
With the season over, I pour myself into studying for finals as soon as I get back from Maine. Kori and I meet up in the library to study for our respective exams, and to go over all of our notes for the Psychology. Fortunately, she did take good notes while I was gone, and I feel pretty confident heading into the final.
I wish I felt as confident about where things stand with Kori, but she’s been different since I got back. We’re still talking, still hanging out together, but something seems off. She’s not smiling at all, and it’s hard to engage her in conversation. It reminds me a lot of when we first met, before she started to open up to me. I’m hoping it’s just stress from exams and once we get this out of the way, she’ll be back to being the fun, playful girl that I’m now used to.
The Psych final is our last one, and I’m anxious for it to be over. I want to take Kori out to celebrate finishing our first year of college. I even made reservations at a nice restaurant in town. First things first, though. We have an exam to take.
“Are you ready to ace this thing?” I ask Kori as we take our seats.
She smiles, but I can tell it’s forced. There’s no light in her eyes and no optimism in her voice as she says, “I hope so.”
“Hey, we’ve got this,” I say, trying to reassure her as the exams are being passed out.
She doesn’t respond, and I chalk it up to stress. We just need to get through this last exam and everything will be fine. It has to be.
I finish early and I feel good about how it went. Kori is still finishing the exam, so I wait outside for her. I know she likes to take her time, and there’s only a few minutes left in the test period when she comes outside.
“Hey. What’d you th—” I start to ask, then stop when I see the look on her face. She’s pale, her mouth is tight and she looks like she might cry. “What’s the matter, Kor?” I reach out and try to put an arm around her, and she jerks away.
“I bombed it. I completely bombed it. I forgot the whole concept of social facilitation, and fight or flight and I’m sure I failed it.” She’s talking so fast I barely make out the words. “Now I’m going to flunk out of school and lose my scholarship.” She starts to shake, and I’m afraid she might fall, I put my hand on her arm.
“It’s okay.” I say. “It’s just a couple of questions, and you did so well on the other tests that you can bomb this one and still pass the class. You won’t flunk out. You won’t lose your scholarship. It’ll be fine.”
“No, it won’t be fine! Why do you always say that?” She jerks away from me again. “Maybe it is for you, because everything comes easy. Baseball, school, getting over your mom’s death. All of it. Everything’s so easy for you. Great. I’m thrilled. But it’s not for me, and it never will be. I’m just a pathetic, depressed loser who can’t cope with life. No wonder you probably found another girl when you were in Maine.”
“Wait a minute. What the hell?” I can’t help raising my voice. I have no idea where that accusation came from and I want an explanation, but I forget all of that when Kori’s knees buckle and she sinks to the ground.
“Kori!” I go to my knees and wrap my arms around her, and this time at least she doesn’t move away from my touch. “I’ve got you, honey, and it’ll be okay. It really will.”
She doesn’t say anything, instead rests her head against my shoulder as the tears come.
~Kori~
I don’t know how long we stay like that, crouched on the sidewalk in front of Rounds Hall, me crying in Landon’s arms. I’m sure we’re quite a spectacle, but I don’t even notice. Finally, I manage to pull myself up, and with Landon’s arm around me as we walk to my dorm.
When we get to my room, I splash cold water on my face, trying to wash away not only the tears, but the hurt and pain as well. It’s the second time I’ve fallen apart in front of Landon, and I expect him to want to run, but as I turn away from the sink, he’s still there, sitting on my bed, his expression concerned.
“Feeling better now?” he asks softly.
“A little, yeah,” I say, then choke out a single laugh. “I guess maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go off my depression meds, huh?” It’s a lousy attempt at a joke.
“You went off your medication? Why?”
“Because I thought I was better,” I say, but the words sound hollow and false. I didn’t really think I was better. I just wanted to be. “I
wanted
to be better. I don’t want to be a basket case all the time. I don’t want to be depressed and sad. I want to be normal.”
“You
are
normal,” Landon says. “It’s completely normal to be depressed after what you’ve been through. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Yeah, right...”
“It’s not,” he says, looking me right in the eye. He pats the spot on the bed next to him. “Come here. Come sit beside me.”
I do, and he puts his arm around me. It’s immediately comforting. “I always feel better in your arms,” I say, hating how weak and pathetic it sounds.
“Then stay here and let me just hold you,” he says. “I’ll hold you as long as you want.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I want to know.
“Because I care about you,” he says. “Because you’re special to me.”
I want so much to believe that, just like I want to be better. Healthy. Happy. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Is that what you think it is?” he asks, sounding incredulous. “Because you’re wrong. Completely wrong. I don’t see pity when I look at you. I see a beautiful girl who’s hurting.”
Hurting. There’s that word again. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to be
hurting
. I don’t want to have to take a pill to help me get through the day. I bet you didn’t have to do that.”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about you,” Landon says, not really responding to what I just said, which is all the answer I need.
“Do you think this has all been easy for me?” he asks.
“Hasn’t it?” The words come out like an accusation.
“No. Do you want to see how easy this
hasn’t
been for me?” Landon shakes his head. “Fine. Tomorrow, I’ll take you and show you. Tonight, I’m just going to hold you.”
~Kori~
L
andon makes good on his promise to hold me, and I fall asleep in his arms. I’m surprised when I wake up and it’s morning already. The sun is peeking through the window of my dorm room, and everything already seems a little bit better. A new day, sun shining, and Landon holding me. I still feel down and I’m still worried about how I did on the exam, but things don’t seem as bleak as they did last night.
The tilt of my head to look at the window causes Landon to stir too. “Hey,” he says. “Is it really morning?”
“Yeah.” I sit up and stretch. “Hard to believe.”
“Am I going to get in trouble for staying here all night?” he asks.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Though some of the girls on the floor might have something new to gossip about.” I chuckle at the thought. Here everyone thinks I’m this moody, anti-social freak, and now I’ve got a starting pitcher on the baseball team spending the night in my room.
“Let them, then,” Landon says with a shrug. “I don’t care what they think. I care about you. How are you feeling?”
“A little better,” I say. “New day and all that.” My stomach rumbles loud enough for both of us to hear. “I guess I’m hungry, though.” It’s not surprising. Neither one of us ate anything last night.
“Me too. I’d planned to take you out to dinner to celebrate being done with exams.”
“And instead, I managed to ruin everything by falling apart on you.” I sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. We’ll have other opportunities to go out for a nice dinner.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up. “I’m starving, though. Let’s go get breakfast. Then you and I are going for a little drive.”
We don’t say much over breakfast. I don’t feel like talking, and Landon doesn’t press. It’s not until we’re in the car that I ask the question that’s been on my mind since Landon mentioned it last night. “Where are we going? Where are you taking me?”
“Hampden Park.”
I think I know what that means, and I don’t like it. “I don’t want to talk to your stepmother, Landon.” It comes out sounding terse and defensive.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he answers, his voice kind. “I just want to show you something.”
That eases my concern, and I try to relax for the rest of the drive. We listen to A New Horizon and talk about the baseball tournament, which makes the drive seem short, and soon we turn onto a tree-lined street filled with typical New England colonial style houses.
Landon slows the car down in front of one of them, but doesn’t stop. “This is the house I grew up in, where my dad still lives.”
“Aren’t we going to stop?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet.” He drives away from the house and we go a few more blocks until he slows again, turning into the parking lot of a grocery store and turning off the engine.
Now I’m really confused. “We’re going grocery shopping?”
“No. We’re not going shopping.” He doesn’t look at me, just stares out the windshield, then points. “You see that intersection right there? That’s where it happened.”
“Where what happ—” I start to ask, then stop as it sinks in. The intersection where his mother was killed. “Oh, Landon.” I reach for his hand, which he takes. Now it’s my turn to try to comfort him.
~Landon~
Kori reaches for my hand, and I link my fingers through hers. It feels comforting, reassuring, exactly what I hope my touch has been able to do for her. We sit there and watch a few changes of the light cycle until I speak again.
“6:42 pm,” I say. “It happened at 6:42. It was a Thursday, and we were going to have a family movie night. It’s something we liked to do, and we took turns picking the movie. This was my night to pick, and I wanted to watch
Jurassic Park
. It was one of my favorite movies, and even though my mom hated it, and I’d seen it probably ten times, she humored me.” I swallow hard. “I tried to watch the movie once after that night, and I couldn’t do it. I destroyed the DVD.”
The light changes again, and I watch a few cars go through the intersection. “I wanted a root beer float, and we didn’t have any ice cream in the house, so she ran out to go to the store.” I close my eyes. I still remember protesting, that she didn’t have to make a special trip just so I could have my favorite dessert, but she insisted. ‘We’re just a few blocks from the store. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Maybe less.’
“It’s the last time I ever saw her. The car was mangled, and my dad insisted on a closed casket.” The tears are falling now, like they always do every time I come back here. Kori squeezes my hand, but doesn’t speak. It’s like she knows I need to do this. For me. For her. For us.
“Statistically, you have a greater chance of being killed in a car accident less than two miles from your home than you do of dying in a plane crash, but people don’t think about that.” I choke back a hollow, humorless laugh. “My mother hated to fly. It scared her. But she wasn’t scared of driving, and now she’s gone. All because
I
wanted a stupid root beer float.”