“You sure? If you don’t like this kind, I think Richards has a different case in his car.”
“Nah, I’m good. Really,” I add when Sam looks unsure.
He finally shrugs and walks off to finish his own beer.
I can’t figure out why the hell everyone is being so chatty with me tonight. You’d think they hadn’t seen me in years, rather than months. Davis is retelling football stories from high school, all my great highlights; Richards has been asking me retarded questions about my job; and Sam has been offering me food and beer all night.
What the hell is going on?
Richards, who is plastered as always, keeps glancing over at me in between dirty jokes and glory stories, and I figure if anyone will break down, it’ll be him. I walk up beside him and stand there for a minute, waiting until the silence between us gets too awkward for him to ignore.
“Hey,” he says, taking a gulp of beer.
“Hey.”
“So… I know I never said this before,” he begins. “I’m a real jackass, I know, but… I’m sorry, man. About Charity.”
I nod, dumbfounded. “Uh, thanks. That’s… random.”
He shrugs. “Well, I saw Sarah’s scar today—”
“Holy shit! You saw it too?” Sam butts in, drunk. “It was wicked. Shame too. She’s got this kick-ass little body, and then bam, there’s a gnarly gash cutting right between her tits.”
My heart drops to the dirt.
“You guys talking about Sarah?” Davis leans in and shakes his head. “I couldn’t believe it.”
“Me neither,” some guy I’ve never seen before says.
I clutch my soda so tight the can starts to crinkle. “When did you guys see all this?”
“Today, man,” Sam says. “She was prancing around in that pink bikini, all proud. Just putting her marred skin on display and looking people in the eye and shit.” He shudders. “Unsettling as hell.”
I struggle to keep a straight face as I look around at my uncomfortable friends. Is that why everyone has been bat-shit crazy around me tonight? Because Pixie marched Charity’s memory around the lake today?
I almost laugh out loud. I could kiss her for that—for being brave and obstinate and proud. She’s amazing. I wish I could have seen that—
My stomach falls, joining my heart in the sand, as I realize why I didn’t see that. Pixie was acting weird earlier today because she was hiding her scar from me.
She was hiding her scar. From me.
I throw my soda away.
I’m halfway across the beach before I realize I’m headed to Pixie. My fists are clenched, and the sour feeling in my gut is sloshing with every step I take.
I find her standing with a group of her high school friends. Not smiling, but participating as the pink straps of her swimsuit peek out from the dress thingy she’s thrown on.
Her eyes catch sight of me as I near, and she watches me like she knows I’m coming for her.
“We need to talk,” I say when I’m within earshot, a low tremor in my voice.
She pulls out of the group and steps to the side as I trudge away from the fires and music and drunk people. I see her shadow following after me as I move into the darkness by the cliffs, just as the first of the opening fireworks spark to life in the sky. Cheers and clapping echo behind us as we travel deeper into the shadows.
When we reach a secluded place, I turn to her, and for a moment we just stare at each other. More fireworks shoot into the sky, lighting up her face as she waits.
I’m suddenly scared stupid to talk about this.
“Let me see it,” I say, my voice coming out a bit unsteady.
She crosses her arms over her chest and doesn’t pretend not to know what I’m talking about. “No.”
I blink, not quite sure how to respond to that. “So what, then? You’re just going to hide it from me for the rest of your life?”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to strip down for you right here so you can see just how torn up my skin is.”
“But you’ll let the whole town see?”
“Would you rather I hole up like an ashamed hermit?”
“No! Of course not. That’s not—” I purse my lips. “You know that’s not what I meant. I just… I just don’t want you to hide your scar because you’re trying to shield me from reality. I don’t need you to protect me.”
Her eyes narrow. “You can’t even handle seeing me in a towel.”
“That’s my problem, Pixie. Not yours.”
“Like hell!” She uncrosses her arms. “How is that not my problem? You looked like you were going to throw up the other day—and that was after seeing only the tip of the scar.”
“That’s because I’d never seen it before.”
“Well, maybe if you’d bothered to come visit me in the hospital while I was fighting for my life, you could have checked out all the gore firsthand and wouldn’t feel so left out right now.” Her eyes widen a bit, like maybe she didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it’s too late.
Her words sink into me like iron stakes, driving deep and wedging anger and regret between my lungs. I take a step forward. “I didn’t come visit you in the hospital because I’d almost killed you. I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”
“Well, that wasn’t your call to make.”
“I was trying to be respectful.”
She juts her jaw. “Is that why you abandoned me too? Out of respect?”
“Abandoned you? What are you talking about?”
“You left me, Levi. Charity died and you just disappeared, like I was nothing more than an accessory to your past. I lost Charity, and then I lost YOU. Did you ever stop to think about how alone I was back here in reality while you were off at frat parties and throwing footballs?”
Fireworks pop in the sky, orange and blue flashes filtering down on her cheeks as I stand, wordless.
She shrugs angrily. “Did you ever think for one minute that I might have needed someone to be here for me to mourn with? Or were you too busy thinking about your own pain? Because I lost her too, you know. I lost Charity and your parents and your home—just like you—but I didn’t get to run away. I had to stay in this godforsaken town and listen to people pretend Charity never existed while I healed enough to get out of this place and start college. You didn’t think about me or look back, and that hurt, Levi. It hurt so much and…” Her features twist in pain, and she shakes her head. “You know what? Forget it. It doesn’t matter anymore.” With a wave of her hand, she spins on her heel and walks away from me as more colors fall from the sky.
My mouth and my feet are stuck to the earth.
She’s totally right. I left her.
God.
I left her.
Just like my parents left me. But what I did was worse because Pixie was blameless. I was so caught up in my own personal hell that I put distance between us without even a thought as to how she might feel about me disappearing from her life. She was in that hospital, hurt and sad, and I just fucking LEFT.