He was still looking glumly at the ground as I walked around him to Sawyer. I grabbed her hand and made for the door. Stopping halfway through the open doorframe, I turned to look back at him. He was still staring at the floor, his head bent down. For a moment, I remembered the happy, smiling kid that used to hang off Darren's shoulders, wanting to be just like his big brother. Sadness entered me at how little of that person was left.
"I'm sorry, Josh. I loved him too."
Josh lifted his head and looked back at me, tears in his eyes now. I swallowed at the sight, my own eyes watering. Josh only stared at me a moment, then nodded and made his way to the principal's office. Sawyer and I both exhaled together, squeezing each other's hands and preparing for the remainder of our day.
It went by smoother than I'd imagine it would. As I continued forcing myself to meet people's glances and acknowledge them with smiles or nods, they started feeling more comfortable around me. By Mr. Varner's class, some of the people around me, felt comfortable enough to ask me if what they'd heard about the dance was true - if I'd really confessed that I remembered everything, if I'd really been sober and the rain had really caused the wreck. It made a knot form in my stomach and I had to fight the natural urge to shut down and not tell them anything, but with Sawyer squeezing my knee, I finally did confess the truth around the events of that night.
Mr. Varner snapped at the room on more than a few occasions, as whispers of questions and consolations swirled around me, but by the time class was over, the people in it looked at me differently.
It was much the same in the remainder of my classes. Most people just had no idea what to believe and they'd taken my half-hearted denials, mixed with my silence, as an admission of guilt. It generally only took me explaining things once, for people's questioning glances to turn sympathetic. And I found that the more I talked about it, the easier it was to do that. Eventually, I didn't even tear up when people asked.
I was feeling a lot more comfortable in the school, and in all honesty, with myself, when I got to Astronomy. There was something healing in a handful of peers telling you that it was an accident, and you weren't to blame. There was also something soothing in those same students apologizing for thinking badly of me. It didn't make up for all the tiny tortures I'd endured, but it helped.
Don't get me wrong, not everyone instantly liked me again. As I walked through the halls or into the classrooms, there was still an occasional angry shake of the head and hard stare, but not everyone can be convinced of the truth. Some people will believe what they want to believe. Sometimes you have to do that, just to make sense of the world. I understood that, and didn't hold it against anyone who felt the need to make me the villain. I just wasn't going to agree with them anymore. That was my goal anyway.
As I walked through the Astronomy doors, my eyes automatically went to Josh. He kept his head down, not looking at me. I nodded my head, accepting the truth of our relationship, and made my way to my seat. I didn't know if Josh finally believed me, but I knew he'd finally leave me alone. I found what solace in that that I could, and silently wished him well as I watched him throughout class.
A few more people came up to me afterwards, and I made myself talk with them, being as open and honest as I could. One or two offered to walk me to my next class and I conceded, not sure if I wanted the company, but wanting to fit back in with people. They chatted about events in their lives and I nodded and supplied a few 'I'm listening' responses. My thoughts were more on Josh though, as I watched him disappear to his next class.
My mind focused back onto the things I could feel good about in art class. Mrs. Solheim gave us back some of our pieces that she'd finally gotten around to grading over the break. Calling me Tom, and telling me, once again, how much talent she thought I had, she handed me back the charcoal drawing I'd done of Sawyer. She'd given me an A. I smiled as I smoothed out the paper image of the woman I knew so well, a woman who'd brought me back from the brink. My finger traced the curve of her cheek on the paper and I suddenly knew what I wanted to do with this piece that meant so much to me.
I tucked it in my backpack and got to work on the next image of the woman I loved.
Not too much later, I saw her again. Her black hair streamed behind her in the crisp breeze, her small frame wrapped in my letterman's jacket. Now I loved how my name across her back implied my claim on her. Underneath that jacket, I knew she was wearing her typical long-sleeve shirt, and I also knew that shirt was doing much more than just keeping her warm. Her thumb ring flashed in a sudden bright patch of sunlight and its triumphant shine matched the triumphant look on her face as she walked over to me. I smiled at seeing the happy glow in her eyes, wondering if I had anything to do with it.
She slung her arms around my neck when we finally met up in-between the buildings housing art and choir. She immediately leaned up to lightly press her lips to mine. Mine were smiling as she pulled away. My hands automatically curled around her waist and we held each other, like we'd been apart all day, and not just the last two classes.
"Why does it feel like forever since I've seen you?" she asked, echoing my thoughts again.
I grinned and shook my head. "Because it has been." She rolled her eyes, but laughed, the look of victory still on her face. I cocked an eye brow as I studied her. "Something...going on?"
She grinned and removed one of her hands from my neck, showing me a note tucked inside her fingers. I felt my face scrunch as I tried to figure out what it was. I grabbed it from her cool grasp and unfolded it with one hand while she watched me with a wry smile. As familiar handwriting popped out at me, I startled and met her gaze again.
"Our note? The one Josh knew about?" She nodded. "What happened to it?"
She shrugged and hugged me tighter. "Your favorite 'ex' had apparently stolen it from my bag, probably that same day. I hadn't noticed then, but Sally told me that she'd heard Brittany bragging about it today." She gave me a wink and a sly smile. "So I made sure I got it back."
I shook my head at her, wondering how she'd accomplished that. "I love you," I muttered, before lowering my lips to hers again. She chuckled, but couldn't answer me since my lips weren't exactly letting her speak. I didn't need her to say it back to me anyway. I already knew exactly how much Sawyer loved me. She'd proven that to me on the highway.
Her fingers curled up to my hair as mine ran up her back, pulling her tighter. Behind her, I heard a series of disgruntled noises and I cracked my eyes open. I could just make out Brittany, standing several feet away from us, watching us kiss. I closed my eyes again, blocking her out. I couldn't help Brittany's petty jealousies...which I was fairly certain was all it was for her. She had never shown me anything even close to resembling love, not even way back, when we'd been fooling around. It was one of the reasons that it had been so easy for me to discount the encounter. I was a toy to her, something she enjoyed playing with and didn't like to share, but she definitely wasn't above chucking me to the curb when it suited her purpose. That sort of game wasn't something I'd ever had any interest in playing, regardless of how attractive she was.
My hands tightened on Sawyer, reveling in someone who actually did care about me. As the noises behind her finally faded into silence, I remembered what I'd wanted to do earlier in art. I broke apart from our kiss and smiled down at her. Her mouth was still parted, her breath just slightly heavier and her eyes slightly glassy. It was an astoundingly attractive look, one that hinted at where our relationship could eventually go, and I swallowed at seeing it.
Blinking and stammering on vague, incoherent words, I reached behind me to my backpack. She released her grip on me when she understood what I was doing. Looking more put together, she watched me curiously. Grinning, I found the picture I'd drawn and handed it to her. She tucked our "note" in her pocket, before taking my picture and unfolding it.
Her mouth fell open as she looked over the intricate, charcoal version of her that I'd drawn. As she was speechless for so long, I started getting nervous that she didn't like it. Maybe she thought it was creepy or something. I started to anxiously shift my weight back and forth, waiting for some response from her.
Finally her eyes lifted from the paper; they were watery as she gazed at me dumbfounded. She shook her head and tried to speak, but couldn't. As I scrunched my brow, she finally swallowed and said, "You drew...me?"
I nodded and smiled, relaxing at the awe I heard in her voice. "I always draw you. I always have," I added in a whisper.
She looked back down to the paper, her finger tracing the same curve on her cheek that I had earlier. "You drew me...beautiful," she murmured quietly, clearly taken aback that I'd do such a thing.
My hand came up to her chin, lifting it so she'd look at me. "You are beautiful."
A tear dropped to her cheek and I brushed it off with my thumb. Her watery eyes flicked between mine as the chilly wind continued to blow her hair around her, lifting and releasing the ends in a continual wave of motion. "I love it. I love you, Lucas."
I smiled and bent down to kiss her again. By the time we broke apart, we were both late for our next appointments.
We parted ways in front of the purity club door. She playfully grabbed the edges of my jacket, pulling me to her for a quick kiss. I chuckled and turned it into a longer kiss. She sighed, and looked at me a little dreamily as she pulled away. I shook my head as I watched her open the door and disappear into the packed classroom. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe that someone like her, could love someone like me. But I could see now that that thought was more driven by the self hatred than anything else. Before the wreck, I'd never questioned the fact that someone as beautiful and amazing as Lillian had loved me; it had never even occurred to me back then, that I wasn't worthy of her. No, all of my self-doubt was because of the crash, and my part in it. Self loathing can do a number on your self esteem and I was still working on that.
As I opened the door stenciled with the word "counselor" in bold, black letters, a smile crept to my face. I was working on that, and this was the person who'd help me.
Her smile was broad and beaming as she noticed me walking through her door. Her flaming hair was loose around her, large curls spilling around her shoulders, highlighting her crystal blue eyes. Those eyes glowed at me with genuine affection as I took my seat across from her. I sat with a genuinely affectionate smile on my face and marveled at how drastically my attitude about coming here had changed since the beginning. Aside from being with Sawyer, sitting down with Beth was one of the high points in my day.
"Good to see you, Lucas," She replied warmly, her eyes crinkling around the corners, showing a lifetime of happy moments, one of which appeared to be me.
I beamed at her, relaxing back into my seat. "Good to see you too, Beth." Her smile widened at my casual use of her first name. I'd resisted speaking to her with any type of familiarity for a long time, but after my moment on the highway, I'd needed to let her in, to save myself.
Much like I had every day since I'd called her, I began telling her what was on my mind. She'd surprised me over winter break, by showing up at my house every morning. She definitely wasn't under any obligation to do that, and it had definitely seemed above and beyond anything a school grief counselor should have to do, but she hadn't listened to my halfhearted attempts to tell her it wasn't necessary. She'd simply told me it was, and goaded me to talk to her.