Or I had. Past tense.
God, everything was so screwed up.
Trevor’s dad is built like a Mack truck. He’s six foot six with broad shoulders and arms that are covered in tattoos. His thick neck and square jaw are intimidating, but then so are the shaved head and bulging biceps.
A sob sounded just behind him and I felt sick all over again at the sad, forlorn look in Trevor’s mom’s eyes. Brenda Lewis was about the same age as my mom, but she looked at least ten years older now.
I guess not knowing if your kid is going to live will do that to you.
“I told you never to show your face here again,” Mike said slowly, carefully, as if he was talking to an idiot. Which I guess he was.
He took a step toward me, and every muscle in my body ached with tension. My hands clenched and my chest tightened, and for one crazy second, I wished he would just throw a punch. Just one, because I needed to hurt more than I already did.
“Dad, leave him alone. He just wanted to see Trevor.” Taylor tried to play nice, but her father wasn’t having any of it. His eyes narrowed as they left me and moved to his daughter.
“You stay out of this. I’ll deal with you at home.” Mike’s anger was so thick and strong, I swear you could see it in the air.
And I was choking on it. God, was I choking on it.
“Sir,” I began, desperate to help, to do something, anything to defuse the situation. “This isn’t Taylor’s fault.”
“I know,” he said slowly, the veins in his neck corded and sticking out like something bad was filling them up. Hatred, most likely.
“This is your fault, Nathan. All of it.” He pointed down the hall. “The fact that my boy is in there, lying in a coma, fighting for his life, that’s on you.” He sucked in a huge breath like he was about to dive underwater. “The fact that they had to cut into his skull so he didn’t die, that is on you.”
“Mike,” Brenda said softly.
I was aware that everyone was watching. The nurses. The patients. The doctors. The man in his bright pink pajamas over by the elevators. It seemed as if everyone had stopped doing whatever it was they’d been doing and all eyes were on me.
“I’m not going to tear him apart, honey,” Mike replied. “Even though I want to. But I’m telling you this now, man-to-man. I don’t want to ever see you here again, got that? You nearly killed my son, and as far as I’m concerned, your ass should be in jail. We all know the only reason you’re not riding a bench in juvie is because your daddy’s got the mayor’s ear and your uncle is an auxiliary officer in the sheriff’s department.”
“Sir…if I could trade places with Trevor, I would.” The words tumbled from my mouth and I stepped forward.
He shook his head—a warning—and I stopped.
“I trusted you, Nathan. You were the responsible one, and maybe I was wrong to do that, but…I did, and I can’t have you here right now because I can’t control the anger I feel. Trevor’s fighting for his life because of you.”
His words ripped into me like a knife through bone. Every single one of them hurt.
Mike slipped his hands around his wife and hugged her, motioning for Taylor to join them. “Maybe I’m wrong to put this all on you but I can’t help it. It’s the way I feel and as much as the sight of you makes me sick.” His voice was hoarse and he pointed down the hall. “What you saw in there? My son hooked up to a bunch of machines and tubes? That isn’t something I’d wish on anyone, not even if they deserved it.”
Mr. Lewis turned away from me, but he paused before heading back to Trevor’s room. “I’m going to let this one slide, but if I see you up here again, I won’t be so accommodating.”
Taylor joined her parents, and I watched until they disappeared into Trevor’s room. Suddenly my insides twisted so much that I bent over, hands on my knees, eyes closed. If I didn’t get my shit together, I was going to be sick or I was gonna pass out.
A minute passed. Maybe more. And when I finally opened my eyes again, I saw mint-green toes.
“Okay, you win.”
Slowly I straightened, my stomach recoiling but strong enough that I knew I wasn’t going to puke. “Yeah?”
Monroe nodded and grabbed my hand, forcing me toward the elevators.
“Yep,” she said as she pressed the lobby button. “You’re officially the most pathetic person I know.”
“Great. Thanks for that,” I retorted sarcastically. Who the heck was she to talk like she knew what I was going through? As if she knew what it felt like to nearly die from regret and remorse and guilt?
“Just so you know, all it takes is one mistake to claim the crown, so watch out,” I snapped.
The doors slid open and we stepped inside. Once they were closed, Monroe glanced up at me, her eyes huge and glassy. Her chest rose and fell, her lips were parted, and I smelled that summer scent again.
She held my gaze until the elevator doors slid open again and then she whispered, so softly that I barely heard, “At least your mistake is still alive.”
Chapter Nine
Monroe
I couldn’t believe I’d opened my mouth and let something like that slip out. What the hell was wrong with me?
“At least your mistake is still alive.”
Was I crazy? Why the heck would I say something like that?
My heart pounded, so hard that I felt each beat pulse at the base of my neck, and I blew out a long breath as I slid into the car and waited for Nate to do the same. It was a few minutes after eight, and the sun was just starting to get real low in the sky. Red and gold streaked across the horizon, and I supposed it was pretty, but at the moment, I didn’t give a shit about pretty.
At the moment, I was afraid that Nate would ask me what I meant, and if he did, I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. I didn’t talk about Malcolm. Ever.
I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard the passenger door squeak open. In an hour, it would be dark, but the darkness couldn’t come soon enough for me because it was so much easier to hide.
I wanted to disappear. I wanted to melt into a puddle of nothing and pretend that I hadn’t just opened my mouth and said what I’d said.
Nate slid in beside me and I cranked the Foos, wincing when Dave Grohl’s voice cut through the silence.
Why you’d have to go and let it die. Pretty much perfect song right about now.
I pretended that everything was fine and normal. I pretended that I hadn’t just seen Trevor’s father rip Nate a new one. I pretended that I hadn’t felt something when I’d looked into Nate’s eyes.
But mostly I pretended that I hadn’t just opened up my mouth and shared something with a boy I barely knew. At least your mistake is still alive… Shit.
It was hard though—to act like everything was cool. To kinda sorta smile through the lump that clogged my throat. But I did it. I did it because I had to. Because I didn’t know how to be any other way.
How the hell had Nate managed to get that out of me when it had taken my therapist nearly five months to get me to say a single freaking word?