Pictures of You (33 page)

             
“You have to understand I was in turmoil. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. I finally gathered up the nerve to visit him. Whether he wanted to see me or not, I had to say goodbye. I thought about flying over, but I needed time to think about what I was going to say to him. I chose to drive, a decision that would change the rest of my life…and the lives of many others. At the time my car was in the shop. Mike, my boss, lent me an old van.”

             
I clutched my mouth.
The ugly brown van.
In my mind I saw it flying across the freeway, crushing us.

             
“I was so exhausted. The depression, the anxiety, the lack of sleep. They all added up. I fell asleep at the wheel. I must have been out for only a few seconds. Before I knew it, I was hitting a yellow Volkswagen Beetle. I watched in horror as it flew off the freeway, turning over and over before hitting the ground. I saw something green fly out of the window.” Abby’s scarf, I thought. “I knew—there was not a doubt in my mind—I’d killed the occupants. There was no way, I thought, they could survive that.

             
“I panicked, September. I don’t know
what
happened to me. I’d like to think of myself as an honorable person. The kind of person who does the right thing. A good person. But then it all came back to me—the day I killed my sister. I watched in horror as the fire consumed my bedroom. I saw my sister’s face. I saw her tiny body being taken away on the stretcher.” He sobbed. “I saw her charred feet peeking out of the blanket. Those perfect little feet…I couldn’t think straight. I just stepped on the gas and took off. Initially, it wasn’t the consequences I’d have to face that made me flee. I just…lost all common sense. I was that seven-year-old kid again, hiding in the bushes, spinning the wheels of my toy truck.

             
“I never made it to Vegas. The pain was too intense. Depression paralyzed me. I thought about turning myself in at least a dozen times. I knew there was a very good chance I’d go to jail. Maybe even prison. But I couldn’t bear to face the families I’d hurt. Not face to face anyway. I did go to Abby’s funeral—”

             
I laughed, because sometimes that’s all you can do. “Wait, you were at the funeral?”

             
“I wanted to see what I’d done. Whose life I’d destroyed. I found an article about the accident online. I was relieved there was a survivor. Two deaths on my head are better than three, I suppose. Then I found Abby’s obituary.”

             
It clicked then. I saw him there. I saw Adrien at the funeral. He was the hot guy. “Did you see me there? At the funeral?”

             
“No. I don’t think I did. And I swear I had no idea Abby was your friend. Not until Mary said something that day I made waffles. It was all just a terrible coincidence. A sick, sick coincidence.

             
“Going to the funeral only made me feel worse, which I guess was the point. I was punishing myself. But after getting to know Abby at the funeral, I realized I’d killed an angel. Maybe I was hoping she was a dirtbag or something. But, man. I killed this amazing person. So I figured I’d take matters in my own hands…punish myself. Give myself the death sentence. This way no one else could get hurt. I wouldn’t be able to destroy any more lives…

             
“I had it all planned out. I was going to leave the perfect suicide note, placing no blame on the ones I’d leave behind. I was relieved, to be honest,” he said, laughing through his tears. “I was almost happy for the first time in thirteen years. It just seemed like the perfect solution. But then I met you. At first I just thought of you as a pleasant distraction. A friend to kill time with. Someone to help me not think about what I’d planned to do. What I felt I
had
to do. But I screwed up. I started falling for you right away. And then I learned about your accident, about Abby being your friend. I knew right away, right as you described the accident.

             
“You probably remember, after you’d told me about the accident and I put two and two together, I left your apartment. Quite abruptly,” he adds, laughing. “Never to return—or so I thought at the time. I went straight home, stunned. I thought about doing it right then and there. I had the gun in my hand. I had it pinned right under my chin. I was ready. I couldn’t take any more pain. But then, in my mind, I saw your face. I saw you smiling at me. And I wanted to somehow make amends. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it. How it was even possible. But I figured if you knew who killed Abby it’d give you a sense of closure…” he shook his head in disgust. “I meant to tell you, but it was never the right time. I didn’t want to ruin your first solo exhibit, your birthday. And all the while, I was falling deeper and deeper in love with you.”

             
I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, anything, but I couldn’t find the words. I was so confused. More confused than I’d ever been. Drowning in a bottomless lake of confusion.

             
“I’m so sorry, September. I could say it to you a million times and still, it wouldn’t take the pain away. It wouldn’t bring Abby back. It wouldn’t change anything and that’s why you and I would never work.”

             
“I…” I said. Words jumbled inside my mind. Conflicting feelings. But there was nothing to say. Nothing I
could
say. After all, Adrien had killed the one person who meant everything to me. “I don’t—”

             
A knock on the passenger window startled us both. Chris’s concerned face filled my view, his image warped through rain streaked glass. He spoke, his voice muffled by the patter of rain. “Tember, we need to talk.”

             
I looked over at Adrien, still in a daze. His tears had dried, but his knuckles grew milk white, curled around the steering wheel. “Go to him,” he whispered, his face smooth, void of emotion. “After everything you’ve told me about him…He seems like a really good guy.” He laughed bitterly. “He’ll make you a hundred times happier than I ever could.” He gently nudged me. “It’s okay, I swear. I’ll be okay.”

             
I looked at Adrien, then Chris, then Adrien again. Torn. Confused. Exhausted. “Adrien, I—”

             
“Just go!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the dash, making me jump in my seat.

             
Obediently, I pushed the door open and climbed out. He didn’t wait for the door to close before he sped away, car tires screaming against wet pavement.

32

             
“September! You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Chris said, grabbing a hold of me by the arms, steadying me. His wet clothes clung to his body. Raindrops collected and fell from his hair, from his chin.

             
“Chris,” I said, collapsing into his damp arms. He held me close—closer than he ever had.

             
“You’re shaking. You okay?” he said, resting his chin on my head. “What happened? Did he break up with you? Wasn’t he supposed to be…dead by now?”

             
“Chris,” I said. “Please, just get me out of here.”

             
He helped me get into an old aqua-colored Mazda before sliding in behind the wheel. He turned the heat on full blast, but kept the car in park. I sat in a fetal position against the passenger door, my whole body trembling.

             
“Come here,” he said, pulling me into his lap, his arms calming my quivering body. I sobbed for a good fifteen or twenty minutes while he patiently waited.

             
Finally I laughed, feeling a little better now that endorphins flooded my body. I climbed back into my own seat, pushing snot away with a sleeve.

             
“Here,” he said. “Let me grab you a tissue.” He popped open the glove box and pulled a tissue out of a Snoopy box. I couldn’t help but giggle.

             
“Snoopy?” I raised an eyebrow.

             
“This isn’t my car. I borrowed it for tonight. Long story. Are you okay now?” He dotted the tears away with a clean tissue.

             
I let out a long, quivery sigh. “Honestly? I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay.”

             
“That bad?” he said, pocketing the tissue. “Look, I’m sorry I kissed you. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it, but I didn’t know it would mess things up so bad.”

             
I shook my head. “That’s not it. It’s something else.”

             
“What?” he asked, stroking my damp hair. “What is it?”

             
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I know who killed Abby.”

             
He dropped his hand mid-stroke. “What? Who?”

             
I opened my mouth, struggling to say the words. “Adrien. He killed Abby.”

             
His brow furrowed. “Wait.
Adrien
killed Abby? Are we talking about the same Adrien—your boyfriend? The one who was here tonight?” I nodded. “How do you know this?”

             
“He confessed just now. In his car.”

             
“Are you kidding me? What kind of sick guy would—”

             
“He didn’t know who I was when we started hanging out. He didn’t realize it was me until later,” I said, surprising myself that I was defending him.

             
“Wow,” he said, shaking his head, appearing stunned. “That’s a lot to swallow. What was his excuse for fleeing? After the accident?”

             
I inhaled deeply before telling Chris the entire story, beginning with Adrien’s sister’s death. Chris sat, mostly in silence, absorbing everything. He stopped me from time to time to ask questions. When I finally finished, he seemed almost as confused as I was.

             
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” he asked, touching my elbow, searching my face.

             
I shrugged. “I don’t know. The story became increasingly complicated. I didn’t even know a lot of it until a couple days ago.”

             
“Are you going to tell Abby’s parents? They deserve to know.”

             
“I don’t know. Maybe Adrien will. Even if he did, I’m sure they wouldn’t press charges. They’re way too Christian to do anything like that. And Adrien’s punished himself enough, believe me,” I said, grabbing another tissue and playing with it, twisting it around and around my index finger.

             
“You really love him, don’t you?” Chris said, clutching the steering wheel, looking straight ahead now.

             
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I do.”

             
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?”

             
“Hmmm. I don’t know. Everything’s so fresh. I guess I have a lot to think about.”

             
He closed his eyes for several seconds before putting the car into reverse, pulling away from the curb. By now the rain had stopped. The world around us was strangely quiet. Raindrops on the car, on the grass glistened in the moonlight. “Ready to go home?”

             
“I’m so sorry Chris. I didn’t know. I didn’t realize…” I bit my lip. I guess I did know Chris had feelings for me, but I didn’t realize they were that strong. That he’d be willing to break up with his girlfriend and borrow someone’s car and show up at my folks’ house to save me. What was left of my mangled heart ached for Chris. I wanted to reach for him, comfort him. I couldn’t lie to myself. I loved Chris, too. And he was finally here, finally mine for the taking—if I wanted him, if I chose to have him.

             
But Adrien had to come into my life and complicate everything.

             
Chris was quiet the entire drive home. He reached over and squeezed my hand when I sniffled once, but other than that he seemed to be punishing me for having feelings for someone else. Either that or he was in too much pain to talk. I couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling now, after finally gathering up courage to break up with Megan, in part to be with me, only to be rejected.

             
Street lamps and traffic lights painted the wet pavement a rainbow of colors. The navy blue sky blackened. A cool breeze rushed in through the cracked-open windows, grazing our hair, filling our lungs with the scent of damp earth and baptized air. Several times I turned to Chris, wanting to read his face, wanting to know he’ll be okay, but it was concealed in the dark shadows.