Then again, what if this was not how it was supposed to end up too? What if there is the possibility of having to start over until I get it right? Imagine having to relive all of this and every single detail I would have to fix.
Again.
I lean back against the wall behind my bed. Sitting here is not getting me anywhere. Dwelling on the negative possibilities is not helping me either. If this is it, I should be doing something to make things better.
I drive over to the Thompsons' house. There has to be something I can do for them. I don’t know what but I am willing to do what I can to make things easier if possible.
Seymour answers the door with a warm smile. “Adrienne, you’re just in time.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Just in time for what?”
He gestures that I come in. I step through the door and he closes it behind him carefully. He says quietly, “Chevy snuck out at some point in the middle of the night. He isn't answering his phone. Mom is beside herself. Well, she already was, but this is making it worse. I tried calling all his friends and several people in our family but nobody knows where he is.” He pauses. “Then I realized the person I needed to get in touch with was you.”
“Why me?” I ask. “I don’t know where he is.”
“Ah,” he says, holding up his index finger. “But you do.”
I stare at him, baffled. “How can I know when I don’t know?”
Seymour tries to hold back a laugh. “Come on. Don’t be so naïve. You and I both know there is a close friendship between the two of you. Maybe there isn’t something more,” he smiles, “but trust me, he needs you more than he has been letting on.”
I blink a few times in realization as to what he is hinting at. “Oh.” I stare off at the wall for a moment, taking that in. Here I am doubting when an outsider can see everything. Could he be right? I can’t help but doubt though, despite the certainty in his voice. Do I really know Chevy that well? I'm not some supernatural being that knows all about Chevy. I can’t just picture exactly where he would run off. Then it hits me. There is only one person who remembers what happened today. One person who remembers the end and the beginning.
I know where he is.
At the cemetery before, I didn’t know that Chevy would be there. Well, there weren’t any guarantees. All I had was this feeling, something inside telling me that was where I would find him.
I was right then and I know I am right now.
As I arrive there today, the anxiety from the first time returns. I sit there and take a deep breath. “You can do this. You are not a coward.”
I don’t know if it was the speech of confidence or my own determination, but I push my hesitation aside. I step out of my car and head down the same path, right where I need to go. There he is, standing there like before. This time, I don’t stop. I keep walking, straight for him.
He hears me coming this time. He says, “I had a feeling you would come looking for me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
A slight twinge of a smile edges on the corner of his lips, but it disappears just as quickly as it came. “Sometimes I wonder why you do.”
I guess I'm not the only one with doubts. “I care about you.”
“Why?”
“Because you listen to me when I talk. You go out of your way to cheer me up when I am down. You chose to be friends with me out of all the rest of our classmates when you didn’t even know me yet. You care about everyone around you so much. You are one of the closest friends I have ever had in my life.”
He slowly closes his eyes. I stand there silently, waiting for him to respond to my words. He opens them again and turns to me, a mixed expression on his face. He finally says, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here. For,” he holds open a hand toward the grave, “just helping me get through this.”
I press my lips together. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m helping that much.”
“You’re helping more than you know.”
His words give me a sensation I haven’t felt in a long time. It's hard to describe but it feels like a reassurance. Of what? I'm not sure yet but it reminds me of Seymour’s words earlier. I stand there a moment. I break the silence and say, “Do you want me to stay?”
“Yes.” He sits down next to the grave and I sit next to him. He leans on my shoulder. “Despite everything that happened, I'm glad I tried to do something for him before he died.”
I lean my head on his head. “He was glad you did too.”
“How can you know?”
“Trust me, I know. I could see it in his eyes.”
“Now that you mention it, I think I saw it too.” He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “Will it ever get easier?”
I squeeze his hand. “Someday. Someday it will.”
Chapter Thirty-six
Sunday, August 26th
I wake up the next day with a jolt. My legs nearly fall from under me as I leap out of bed, and I have to steady myself with a hand on the dresser. I go downstairs to find my mom pouring syrup over her waffles. This is different. This isn’t like before.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
My sudden appearance in the doorway startles her to the point where she clutches her heart. “My goodness, you scared me.”
“What is today?” I ask in a hurry.
“Sunday.”
“No, the date.”
“The twenty-sixth.”
“Of?”
“August.”
“It’s not June?”
“No.” She tilts her head in confusion. “Why?”
It’s not June second again. It’s August. It’s the day I was supposed to live to begin with. Then that changed. I tried to change the course of time. I tried to change everything. I tried so hard to fix my mistakes.
And I got nowhere.
I can’t tell her any of this. I shake my head and force a smile. “Nothing. Just a weird dream that it was June again, that’s all.” It’s all just a dream, isn’t it?
I wish it were a dream.
I grab a banana and go back upstairs before she can respond. I quickly slip into the jeans that are on the floor from yesterday and throw on a tee. Next thing I know I am in my car and driving aimlessly. I need to talk to somebody about this so badly but I can’t. I can’t tell a soul about what happened to me because not only will they not believe me but they will probably want to take me in for a psychiatric evaluation. What can I do? Where can I go?
As I leave the city limits, I have the sense of déjà vu wash over me when the abandoned barn comes into view. I turn into that driveway and jump out the second I turn off the ignition. I break into a run and go inside the barn. I stand there in the center of the barn and just look around. For a barn that is not in use, it isn’t as broken down as I expected to see it. Dirt-encrusted straw covers the floor and the stalls. Nobody has been here for several months, if not a year or two possibly. At least that means that no one can stop me from being in here.
And if nobody is here, I can tell these walls anything I want.
“So…” I start, breaking the silent air, “this is how it’s going to be, huh? You give me a second chance and I’ve blown it.” Part of me knows that I have done some good, like yesterday with Chevy.
It doesn’t bring John back though.
“Maybe I should be grateful for this. No, I know I should be grateful for this opportunity. But I wish it had never happened. Why did it happen? I just don’t understand!” I let out a frustrated scream. “I screwed it up! Don’t you get it? I screwed it all up.” I kick one of the stall doors and it smacks against the wall with a loud thud. “I want to be happy with how things turned out but I don’t see how I’ve made any progress. I have not done anything to right the wrongs. I have just made things complicated in different ways.”