This One’s For You Read online

  I stopped, crossing my arms over my chest, and stared out at the lake ahead of me.

  “I tried to unfasten her seat belt but it wouldn’t budge. I was starting to run out of breath and moved to go back for more air. When I swam out of the window, my shirt got snagged on a broken shard of glass. I frantically tried to free myself, but the more I did so, the more energy and air I used. I started to lose consciousness as I was running out of breath. I remember sinking further and further away from the surface . . . after that it’s all a blank.” I paused one last time before finishing the story that had been haunting me for the last year. “I don’t remember what happened after that . . . but I guess the people at the party somehow heard the crash. Ronnie was the first to arrive, and when he saw the car in the water, he dove in. He was the one that saved me. He tried to go back for Reagan, but it was too late . . .”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Owen’s voice came from behind me. I didn’t know when he pushed himself off the ground, or when he came to stand next to me.

  I stared out into the open water. Chewing on the one thing I hadn’t told him yet. I wasn’t ready to tell him yet. It was hard enough to tell what I had.

  Owen wrapped his arms from behind me around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Can I ask you something?” he said. I nodded. “If Ronnie saved you, then why all the hostility?”

  I ripped myself from his hold and turned to face him. My face was red hot with anger. My blood was boiling, my heart pounding in my chest. He couldn’t be serious? When I looked at his face, the curious look in his eyes infuriated me even more.

  “He should’ve gone after her first!” I shouted at him, unable to hold in the rage. “She’s dead because he decided to save me instead!”

  “Brennan,” Owen said calmly. He took a step toward me, and I stepped backward. “If he would’ve done that, then you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Better her than me.”

  His face fell. “You don’t mean that.”

  I threw my hands in the air and growled. “Why? Why did I get to live and she didn’t? Nobody has been able to give me an answer. Can you? Can you tell me why?”

  “I don’t have an answer for that,” he replied. He took another step toward me, and I moved away. “No one understands why these things happen.”

  “If I would’ve just called my brother, she’d still be here!” I shouted. My face soaked with salty tears. My anger was intensifying. “It’s my fault she’s gone!”

  He took another step.

  “No, it isn’t,” he said, trying to reassure me. “It’s no one’s fault.”

  “Don’t say that!” I screamed. “Don’t you dare say it isn’t my fault!”

  I was starting to lose it. I thought coming here was a good thing. I thought it might what I needed in order to move forward, but it wasn’t. Instead, all those bottled emotions, the ones I felt a few days ago, were intensified by a million.

  “Brennan, I get why you feel like it’s your fault,” he replied in a gentle voice. “I know exactly how you feel.”

  “How could you possibly know how I feel? Have you ever lost someone you loved? Have you ever been the reason for someone’s death? Huh?”

  He took another step back. I stumbled back a step. My foot slipped off the edge of the cliff. I didn’t realize how close I was. Owen closed the distance between us and quickly pulled me away from the drop off. We fell to the ground, him landing on top of me.

  I started to sob, beating my fists against his chest, and demanding that he let me go. He didn’t say anything and only held me tighter. I fought against him for a few minutes, before finally giving him. I sank into his arms, drowning out the sound of his voice with my cries.

  “They never found her . . .” I said, through each cry. “They went back to look for her, but they never found her body.”

  “Oh my . . .” I heard him mutter. He smoothed down the back of my hair and kissed my head. “Brennan,” he whispered, “look at me.”

  I tilted my head back to meet his gaze.

  “This isn’t your fault.” He was trying to reassure me again. “I know you think that, but you have to know that no one blames you for this. No one thinks you’re the reason she is gone . . . the only person who thinks that is you. And only you can change that.”

  “I know,” I admitted. “Deep down, I know that. But the irrational side of me won’t let me believe it. It’s easier to believe it’s my fault than just a tragic accident. It’s the only thing that’s helped me survive the last year. I’ve had to keep living for the both of us.”

  “And how is that working out for you?”

  “Honestly, not very well.”

  “I’m not going to say this is going to be easy,” he continued. “Hell, I’m not saying you’re ever going to get over it. Because you won’t. This is something you’re going to carry with you for the rest of your life. But there’s people who love you, people who want to help you carry this burden, and people who are just as affected by this as you are. You’re not alone . . .”

  “I don’t know if I can do it,” I whispered. “How am I supposed to keep living my life when hers ended far too soon? How can I allow myself to be happy? To live my life?”

  “I don’t have all the answers, Brennan. Some of them you’re going to have to figure out yourself. But I’ll be there every step of the way.”

  I sat up in the grass and looked at the body of water that permanently changed my life. A bald eagle soared high above us, before dipping down toward the water and flying inches above the surface. I watched in awe as the bird carried on, free and happy, not knowing that his species was once near extinction. I never envied an animal more than I did in that moment.

  I’d had enough of this place. I was ready to get out of here. I was scared that if we stayed any longer than we already had, I was going to lose it again, and I didn’t have any more tears left to cry.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said, walking past Owen. Not waiting to see if he followed me.

  He caught up to me as we reached the road and took my hand in his. We walked in silence toward the car. I stopped at the front, turned back, and looked down the road. My shoulders felt lighter, which was progress, but I still had a long way to go.

  “Thank you,” I said, turning toward Owen.

  He brushed my bangs out of my eyes, tucking my hair behind my ear, and grazed my cheek with his thumb. “Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy.”

  I felt the electric charge filling the air around us. Our eyes locked onto one another. I leaned in toward him, closing my eyes and puckering my lips. I could feel his warmth radiating just centimeters from my mouth. Owen sighed heavily, resting his forehead against mine. I squeezed my eyes tighter before opening them.

  “Why won’t you kiss me?” I asked.

  He closed his eyes, his hands interlocked behind my head. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. His breath smelled like mint and chocolate. “I already told you, Brennan,” he whispered breathlessly.

  I remembered what he told me the other day. I rubbed my nose against his, and he looked into my eyes. “Do you think after what I just told you that I plan to be kissing another guy anytime soon?” I said, laughing softly. I was trying to lighten the dark cloud hanging over us.

  “Please, don’t do that,” he said softly.

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t make a joke about the situation.” He moved his forehead from mine and stared deeply into my eyes. “You just finished telling me the most gut-wrenching story I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  “It’s what I do, Owen,” I replied. “When dealing with something as serious as that, I have a hard time handling it. I use jokes to lighten the mood. It’s my defense mechanism.”

  “But you don’t have to do that with me. I don’t want you to hide how you feel.”

  I sighed. “So you want me to be sad? Angry? A crying mess? I’ve done that. I�
�ve been doing that for an entire year. I don’t want to feel like that!”

  “I know,” he replied softly. “But what you told me isn’t something to take lightly. You’ve been carrying it with you for a year. Just because you told me that isn’t going to liberate you from it with a snap of a finger. You can’t just keep going through the motions like you’re in a race against time. You need to stop, feel each emotion, and take them one at a time.”

  I pulled out of his arms and turned my back to him. The sudden lightness I had felt disappeared, and the weight was back again. Pushing me into the earth’s surface. I felt like I was suffocating. I thought I was supposed to feel better when I opened myself up. And I did, but only for a moment.

  “Brenn,” he said behind me.

  My body was shaking. I clenched my fists by my side, and pulled my lips into a tight line. My face felt like it was on fire, like the surface of the sun, as the heat rushed to my face. I turned to look at him, my vision was hazy, and all I could see was red.

  “You want me to feel my emotions?” I shouted, throwing my hands in the air. “Fine, I’ll feel them!”

  Owen opened his mouth to say something but clamped it shut. He started to move toward me but his steps faltered. His head hung low, and I could see the sadness full in his eyes.

  “The first one I’m feeling is anger!” I screamed. “I’m angry because everyone around me has been walking on eggshells, treating me like a fragile piece of porcelain, and that I’m going to break at any given moment. Everyone thinks there’s something wrong with me, but they haven’t stopped to think that maybe this is just who I am now. I mean, my best friend died. She. Died. She’s not here anymore.”

  My body shook violently as the anger poured out of me. I felt like my core was burning up, tearing me from the inside out. But once I started, I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

  “And I couldn’t do anything about it. I let her drive the car that night, knowing that it was a bad idea, and I didn’t try to stop her! I’m angry because her parents can’t even look at me, or speak to me anymore. Against what everyone says, I know they blame me, and that they hate me. And I don’t blame them; I hate myself even more.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Owen said, his voice gentle.

  I groaned loudly. I picked up a rock from the side of the road and threw it with all my strength.

  “And you know what pisses me off the most?” I asked him, raising my voice even louder. “The fact that everyone keeps saying it isn’t my fault!” I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked on it. “For once, I just want someone to look at me and say that it is my fault! I want someone to look me dead in the eye and tell me that I could’ve prevented all this from happening.”

  “And what do you think that’ll achieve?” Owen challenged, taking a step toward me. “More guilt you can use to destroy yourself with?”

  “I-I . . .” I stuttered. I couldn’t form the words in my head to say with my mouth.

  “I get that you’re hurting, Brennan,” he said, taking another step toward me. “And you have a right to be angry. You can be pissed about how unfair the world is. You can be mad about that fact that it shouldn’t have been Reagan’s time to leave. But you can’t be angry at the people who care about you. You can’t push them away. You can even blame yourself all you want, but don’t expect anyone else to do the same. Not when they know it isn’t your fault.”

  I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but he cut me off.

  “And as far as Reagan’s parents go, how do you know they blame you?” he asked. “Did they ever say that it was your fault? Did you ever ask?”

  My mouth fell open, shocked by the sudden turn in events. Owen was pushing back. He was seeing the through bullshit smokescreen I attempted to use. It was the first time anyone had done that.

  “Well, I, uh.” I couldn’t speak.

  I couldn’t answer him, because the answer was no to all of his questions. Her parents never came out and blamed me directly. And I never asked. I hadn’t even spoken to them since the accident. I went past their house all the time. Even today, we drove right by, and never once did I stop. I wasn’t even sure if they still lived there.

  “I’m not trying to be a dick,” he confessed. “But I’m trying to get you to see the bigger picture here. If you keep holding onto this belief that it’s your fault Reagan is gone . . . you’ll never be able to move forward with your life. Despite how much you want to.”

  His words were starting to calm me down. Just a little. I could see the truth in them. I knew he was right, but my stubbornness was trying to win out. My heart was telling me the same things he was; it had been for a long time. But my mind overpowered it. Tricking me to believe all the wrong things that I did.

  My body relaxed as I replayed what he said over and over again in my head. A never-ending mantra of “it’s not your fault” played like a broken record. The more I said it to myself, the more I started to believe it.

  I sighed, closed the distance between us, and folded myself into his arms. Owen rested his chin on the top of my head, and smoothed my hair down my back. We stood like that for a few minutes, until I found myself breathing a little easier than before.

  “Feel better now?” he asked, pulling back to look at my face.

  “A little.”

  He caressed my cheek, moving down to trace my lips with his thumb. “It’s not going to happen overnight. You’ll probably have to deal with it for the rest of your life.”

  I nodded slightly. A light breeze picked up, blowing my hair all around my face. Owen grasped the back of my head in his hands, slowing the movement of my flowing hair. Our eyes locked as the sun broke through the trees and surrounded us like a halo of light. The flecks of yellow gleamed brilliantly.

  He looked at me with soft, caring eyes. Running his thumb over my lips again, they parted slightly. I angled my face toward him, silently begging him to give the one thing he had been denying me the last few days.

  “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said, low and intimately. “And when I do, my lips are going to be the last ones you ever taste.”

  A chill ran down my spine. A burning desire started from the tip of my toes and moved throughout the rest of my body. It was like time had come to a stop as his face moved toward mine. I was scared to close my eyes, out of fear that if I did, he’d stop again.

  Sparks ignited in my veins as we finally connected. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pushed as close as I could to him. Owen’s fingers weaved through my hair, gently pulling as we lost ourselves in one another.

  Our tongues began to dance. I could taste the mint of his toothpaste mixed with chocolate and traces of cinnamon. A kiss had never tasted better.

  My heart began to beat furiously against my ribs as he moaned into my mouth. One of his hands dropped to my lower back, tugging me in closer. I moved my hands to his face, pulling him toward me. Our breaths became ragged, panting, as we slowed to little pecks.

  “Mine,” he said, his voice thick and husky. “From this moment, you belong to me, and I belong to you.”

  “Yours,” I said, breathlessly. I pressed my lips against his, kissing him tenderly. “Mine . . . all mine.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  “SO,” OWEN SAID, putting the car in park. We sat at the top of the driveway, neither of us quick to exit the car. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  I leaned over the center console and pressed my lips against his. “You’re stuck with me now.”

  “What about your promise?” he mumbled.

  Those few words shattered the seemingly high feeling I was still soaring from.

  I pulled back. My heart dropping to the pit of my stomach. I stared out the window, my head started running a mile a minute with thoughts. The promise—the last thing I had left of Reagan, and I was throwing it out the window. I was throwing out our friendship like it meant nothing to me.

  “Hey,” whispered Owen. He reached for my
hand, and I slowly looked at him. “She’d want you to do whatever it was that made you happy. Promise or no promise.”

  “It’s just—” My voice dropped off.

  How did I explain what I was feeling? I was betraying the memory of Reagan. The one thing we swore to each other. It was hard not to feel guilty. I had faced the anger head-on, screaming and shouting how I felt. But this, guilt, it was a hundred times worse. I felt like I was being consumed from the inside out. It was triggering the anger again and bringing the sadness to the surface.

  Owen brushed the hair out of my face. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “No, I-I, uh,” I stuttered. I took a deep breath. I could do this. Reagan and I might’ve agreed to forego relationships this year, but deep down I knew she’d want me to take a chance if I had it. “I’ll work through it.”

  I offered him a weak smile. He leaned over, kissing the top of my forehead. I sighed heavily, trying to push the emotions away. Tucking them away at the back of my mind like I’d done for the past year. I had dealt with enough of my emotions. I couldn’t go through another one. I was emotionally and physically drained.

  “One last thing,” Owen said, tearing me from my thoughts. He glanced away and rubbed the back of his neck. He took a nervous breath, his body shaky as he exhaled it. “Now, don’t get mad at me, but I promised your father I’d talk to you about it.”

  “About what?”

  “About going to the memorial thing tonight.” His eyes flicked over to me before he shifted them out the windshield. “After this morning, what you told me . . . I have to admit that I agree with your family. I think it’s a good idea, and that you should go.” He paused before adding, “You won’t be alone.”

  The anger was back. I didn’t like how my family had looped Owen into the issue surrounding the party. They managed to finagle their way into his head and get him over to their side. Using him to get to me. I don’t know what pissed me off more; the fact that they did that or that Owen was in agreement with them.