Part 13 (2/2)
Laney doesn't take my calls.
Doesn't respond to my texts.
Doesn't answer the door.
Doesn't even glance in my direction.
Not until September 25TH , the anniversary of my mom's death.
The kids don't go to school on September 25TH . We visit her grave. Lucy and Cameron drive down from campus and they join us, too. Cameron asks Lucy to marry him. I'm happy for them. Really, I am.
But not as happy as when I see the crocheted flower sitting on our doormat, a sign that Laney had been here, that she remembered. Of course, she remembered. She's not me.
The first year anniversary, the flower was yellow. The following year, it was orange. Every year since, it's been a different color. This year, it's green.
I pick up the flower and place it on the mantel, along with the others, right next to a framed picture of my mother. I congratulate Cam and Luce again, then go to my apartment, change from my suit and tie and into my running gear and I run. I run the same route twice before I find myself at the crossroads. I pause. Look left. Look right.
468 steps.
Knock knock.
I don't expect her to answer, but if she's in her room, I want her to hear the knock and I want her to know it's me. And I want her to know I appreciate her and that I'm sorry. For everything.
She does answer, her eyes red. She has the same look on her face that she did the last time I was here. Only I didn't cause these tears.
”Thank you,” I tell her.
”You're welcome,” she says.
Then she closes the door, dividing the s.p.a.ce between us.
I hate s.p.a.ce.
The days pa.s.s, turn to weeks, my mind a fog with zero clarity.
It's 11:49 pm. I know, because I've been clutching my phone, watching the minutes tick down. In eleven minutes, I'll be eighteen years old.
Every year since Laney and I have owned cell phones, she calls at midnight, on the dot, and over exaggerates the singing of Happy Birthday.
Every year.
Midnight.
11:59, and my thumb hovers over the screen, waiting, hoping, praying.
At 12:01, I die inside.
”And the school had such high hopes for you,” Cooper says, sitting on the gra.s.s in front of me while he does his own set of cooldowns.
I take the bait. ”What's that supposed to mean?”
”I mean the fall season starts in a couple of weeks, and you're not even close to your PB.”
”I'll be fine.”
”But that's the thing,” he says, switching positions. ”You're not fine. Track is a lonely f.u.c.king sport, dude, and only you can control your performance. If your head's a mess, it shows in every stride, every millisecond you're out there.”
”It's true,” Garray agrees, running a hand through his shaved, blond hair. ”And it's worse for cross-country runners like me.”
Cooper nods. ”You want my advice, Preston?”
”Not even a little bit.”
”You're wound up. Something's messing with your head and you need to get rid of it.” He points to his left, toward the girls' track team. ”Go f.u.c.k the brains out of your hot girlfriend. Grace, right?”
I shake my head, eyes narrowed at him. He knows I broke up with Grace the day after I tried to explain it all to Laney. The entire school knows.
He smirks. ”Oh wait, you're not with her anymore, right? Maybe it's that chick from my college?” f.u.c.k him. I'd made out with a girl when I visited Cam and Luce on campus to get away from this bulls.h.i.+t, and when she got me in her car, I couldn't f.u.c.king go through with it. I lied, told Lucy's friends that we'd screwed. What was I going to say? That I almost puked at the idea of being with anyone other than Lane?
”Roxy, right?” f.u.c.k Cooper Kennedy and f.u.c.k him for knowing so much.
”f.u.c.k off.”
He laughs, motions toward the locker rooms. ”Or does your problem have to do with her?”
I follow his gaze to Laney standing just outside the tunnel leading to the locker rooms, adjusting the straps of her backpack. She glances up, then down again. I'm on my feet before I have time to register why she's here, just glad she is. My heart pounds, thuds hard against my chest, and I quicken my steps, widen my strides until I'm standing in front of her.
”Hey,” I say.
”Hey,” she says back.
”You, um...” Breathe, Luke. ”You waiting on me?”
”Actually...” She looks over my shoulder.
”Hey, Lois,” Cooper shouts. He waits until he's standing next to me before saying, ”I need to hit the showers so I'll be a few minutes.”
”No problem,” Laney says, and my insides turn to stone.
Cooper pats me on the shoulder before strutting down the tunnel because he's a d.i.c.k, and she's moved on and it's only been a few weeks, Laney. I stare at her, my chest aching, while she stares down at the ground like her shoes are fascinating. ”So you and Coop?” I choke on his name, poison on my tongue.
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