I let Luke take me to the beach, to Casey's pier. "To cool off," he said, like that's even a possibility now. Like cooling off can even describe what I need right now, what'll fix my brokenness.
I listened to him murmur sweet words to me, trying again and again to calm me, to stop my tears from flowing.
After hours, he stopped trying, realizing nothing he could say would change how I was feeling.
How I'm still feeling.
I adjust the strap of my duffel bag on my shoulder, the past few hours on replay in my mind.
The Summer Bash that started so well. The Ferris Wheel with Luke and Finn. Dancing in Luke's arms.
The argument with Maya, the confrontation with Mom and Dad. The heartbreaking conversation I had with Luke. Him holding me in the sand, listening to the waves, a soft rhythm that finally dried my tears, salt left staining my cheeks.
Letting Luke drive me back to Grams, once it was so late I knew everyone - Mom included - would be asleep. Insisting that I was fine, so he'd go home. So I could do what I knew I needed to, without any interference from him. Waiting till he drove away, his taillights fading down the street, until I threw open my closet and started shoving clothes into my duffel bag.
To now, staring at the overhead board announcing the arrivals of various bus lines. Finding mine, on time, I clench my ticket in my fist and approach the bus. Mechanically, I hand the driver my ticket, shove my bag in an overhead storage compartment, and sink into the uncomfortable, velvet seat.
The bus is relatively empty so late at night- or so early in the morning, actually. So I close my eyes, trying to tune out everything else around me, waiting for the large vehicle to drive me somewhere far, far away from here.
"Dylan, we need to talk."
It was after the funeral, after everyone had left from our home, their casseroles and condolences left as poor attempts at helping our family to heal. To move on.
How would we ever heal from this? How would we ever move on, when the best one of us was gone forever?
"You haven't said a word all day."
To be honest, I hadn't said a word since Mom and Dad refused to let me go with them to identify... to identify the body. To see what was left of my beautiful big brother.
I didn't get to say goodbye ... I didn't ....
"It's worrying me, Dyl. It's worrying all of us. We love you," Luke's chest vibrated as he spoke to me, "I love you. So much."
I heard the words, but it was like nothing was getting through. I felt... cold. Empty. Lost. And somehow, despite watching his casket being lowered into the ground, despite hearing my mother's ungodly wailing every night, despite knowing the horrifying truth, I kept hoping that Casey would come back. Like it was all just some stupid, misguided joke.
I prayed that it was, used every prayer I'd ever learned in Sunday school to beg for it to be some sort of mistake.
"You know I love you, don't you? More than anything?"
Had I been paying attention, I would've noticed the tremor in Luke's voice, the slow way his words left his mouth, like he didn't want to say what came next.
But I wasn't paying attention, I couldn't. Not to anything other than how bad it hurt to breathe knowing Casey would never taste air again.
So I said nothing. Waited.
"Dylan, I need to tell you something."
I lifted my head then, met his eyes, somehow even sadder than my own, and waited for whatever he had to tell me. Whatever it was, there was no way it could make me feel any worse.
"Dylan, the reason we left the party early..." Luke began and had I been paying attention, I would've noticed how he looked away from me. I would've seen his lips pull into the half frown he made when he was lying. But I didn't.
"The reason we left early is that Casey," the name sounded strangled, like it hurt Luke to even say it, "Casey walked in on me with Maya."
If I'd been paying attention, I'd have noticed his liars frown deepen, would've questioned the shiftiness of his gaze.
But I didn't.
"It was all my fault Dylan, I'm so sorry."
I guess I was wrong about not feeling any worse. Somewhere inside me, something broke. I didn't think there was anything left to break, not after burying my brother, and yet, Luke crushed the tiny, microscopic piece of me that had been left unscathed.
And maybe even worse, I was hurting so much already that, like with everything else, I hardly noticed.
That would come later.
So I said nothing, forced myself to close my eyes, and tucked my head back against Luke's shoulder.
"I'm so fucking sorry, Dylan." I could hear the tears choking out his voice, I felt them run into my hair. And yet, still I said nothing.
"Say something, Dyl, please. Just say something."
There was nothing to say.
It was then that my parents found us, leaving the air conditioned house to walk towards us on the porch, a blanket outstretched despite the July heat.
"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, I'm so -"
"It's time for you to leave, Luke." Mom spoke, her voice hard and firm and cold enough to make me shiver.
Perhaps not understanding, Luke stood, helping me up, too. I leaned against him, his body the only thing keeping me upright as my entire world turned upside down.
"I-"
"Now." Mom snapped, angry eyes landing on Luke's face, her words sharp and mean. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen well and hear what I'm saying. You are never to see Dylan again, after what you did to our son. Never. Do you understand?"
Luke stammered for words, not removing his arm from my shoulder until my father pulled me forward, wrapping me in the fleece throw and holding me to his chest instead. Shielding me from the boy they'd previously considered like a son. A sad, lifeless rag doll, I let myself be passed between them, meeting Luke's eyes and seeing the brokenness there. The guilt.
And I said nothing.
"Do you understand?" Mom repeated, stepping in front of me slightly.
But Luke only looked at me, his eyes begging me to say something. To say anything. To forgive him maybe.
No words came.
"I understand." Luke said finally, somber eyes watching me for as long as he could before turning and walking down our street.
Had I been paying attention, I'd have noticed the obviously painful limp to his walk, the results of his back injury. I'd have noticed the way he held his back to turn over his shoulder and give me one, final glance. I'd have realized the confusion on his face.
But I wasn't, and I didn't.
I just sunk to my knees, every piece of my life unravelling around me. For some time, my parents sat with me on the porch, holding me in the blanket but saying nothing.
I guess there really was nothing to be said.
The things I said to Casey before he left for the party rang out in my head again and again. The news clips replayed loudly, the images of the aftermath of the wreck clear to me even though Mom and Dad shielded me from most of the broadcasts.
Casey Casey Casey.
His smile, his laugh, his voice. It's like I could already feel him fading. From this world, from our lives. From me.
Luke's face kept jutting into my memories. So did Mayas, her freckles and red hair and sunburnt cheeks.
Guilt and grief and anger and hatred and more sadness than I could have ever imagined twisted and turned deep in my belly. It crept up my throat until I was sure I would throw up all of my feelings. I wished I would, so I could wipe my hands of them and pretend like none of this ever happened.
But I didn't.
Instead, I spoke the first words I'd spoken since finding out about my brothers death.
"After what Luke did to Casey?"
My brain was moving slow, I was stuck in an endless loop of my worst nightmare come to life, and so I didn't notice everything I should have.
That's all obvious now.
I didn't notice my parents exchanging a look or how it lingered too long to be truthful. I didn't notice the last time my dad looked at me for years to come, a deep, nasty guilt written over his expression. I didn't notice the rushed way my mom explained it to me.
The way she lied to me.
I didn't fucking notice.
And so I never questioned it.
"Yes, honey, I'm so sorry." Mom gripped my shoulder tightly. "Luke was the one driving the car the night they got into their accident. He's the reason your brother is gone. You understand why you can't see him again, don't you? We're so, so sorry."
Each syllable sliced deeper than the last until there was nothing left.
Only shreds of who I was before.
Resuming my silence, I closed my eyes until every memory of Luke Henson, every kiss, every joke, every flutter of my heart, soured into a rotten black hole. And somewhere, somewhere beneath all of the acute devastation, my memories of Maya did the same.
Until all that was left was Casey.
Casey, Casey, Casey.
Poor Dylan. Poor Luke. Where's Dylan off to now?
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