Surrender

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

“He…he does?” She nods. Up until now, I’ve been convincing myself that I was the only one trying to make any contact. This is what I wanted, the thing I had been waiting for since the first morning I woke up in the hospital. It always seemed so far down the road and now it was, quite literally, knocking on my door. But I’m not ready. Two days ago I had been, but now, standing here, I’m not entirely sure if I can face him after all.

“After we brought him home he was still pretty disoriented, but he woke up this morning alert and responsive. He’s been hobbling around on his crutches, eating everything out of the fridge and cracking jokes like nothing happened. We were watching TV when, out of nowhere, he asked about you.” She looks tired, her forehead has traces of worry lines and her voice is heavy, her words dragging a little. I spend so much time thinking about what all of this has done to Harry, forgetting what it was doing to the people close to him, too.

“He knows what happened of course,” She continues, “but he wanted to see you for himself, and when he found out you live next door, he insisted that he see you.” The distance between us makes me think she’s on the fence about whether or not she should hate me. I hear Aaron and my mom talking in the kitchen and my stomach growls. I haven’t said anything in a couple minutes and I can feel her watching me.

“But, I mean, if you think it’s too much too soon, then don’t worr—“ I meet her gaze and shake my head quickly.

“Oh, no, it’s not too much. Of course I’ll…I’ll come.” I’m speaking too fast, my words are coming out too jittery and anxious. I’m sure she can sense how nervous I am because her eyes linger on my face a moment too long before she starts speaking again.

“Okay, just come on over whenever you’re ready,” She glances at my sweats, “he’ll be home all day.” I smile as she makes her way out the door, and then turning back around.

“And, uh, Louis is out for the day, so…yeah.” She nods a few times and then quickly walks away, her arms swinging daintily as she goes. I don’t move. It was too early for that kind of news, and I don’t even know what time it actually is. I do know that I need to shower. I walk into the kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs hitting me square in the face. As I enter, both Aaron and my mom turn to look at me, their faces full of curiosity.

“Harry wants to see me.” I tell them flat out, grabbing a few pieces of bacon and shoving them into my mouth. My mom looks up at me, the spatula she’s holding hovering over the pan. I hear Aaron’s phone vibrate and he turns away, his head bent over it.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” My mom asks, flipping a pancake. My mouth waters as I swallow down the bacon, craving a pancake. It doesn’t matter if it’s a good idea or not, it’s just something I need to do, something I have to do. But, that’s not what finds its way out of my mouth.

“I hit him with my car, going over there and talking to him is the least I can do.” As soon as I say it, I know it’s a mistake. She doesn’t look at me, she just continues to pour batter into the pan, watching as tiny air bubbles rise to the surface and flipping the pancake over. I look to Aaron for reprieve but he’s staring out of the window now, his mind obviously elsewhere.

“Thanks for breakfast,” I say quietly, grabbing another piece of bacon, “I’m gonna go shower and head over there, I don’t know when I’ll be back.” She nods, adding more bacon to the pan. All of the sudden we were a family of few words, and silent nods. When did this happen? Oh. That’s right, about the time I hit someone with my car. I’m fully prepared to carry around that burden for the long haul, but I’m not entirely sure they are. And I haven’t heard anything from my dad, who knows what he thinks about all of this. I trudge up the stairs heavily, my body isn’t quite awake yet. I stop at the door to Aaron’s room and twist the handle slowly, pushing the door open, but only a little. I peek in and see Darcie curled up under the covers, still fast asleep. I needed her right now, and even though she was a few feet from me, she felt so far away. She had a way of giving me the courage I needed when I couldn’t muster any. Whenever I hesitated to jump head first into something I really wanted she always used to say, “We know for a fact that the sun rises and sets, right? But how often do we stop to see it happen?” it was her version of Carpe Diem. I shut the door, and back away. I don’t even want to imagine what she went through, the thought makes me nauseous. But the thought of telling her what I did makes me want to run as far away from here as I can and never look back.