Now-Addison
A repetitive sound wakes me.
That's when I feel the pain at my head and my left arm and basically my whole-body hurts. But among all, I feel like someone is hitting on my head at every second because the pain I feel in my head is the worst.
I open my eyes. I am in a hospital room. Suddenly, all finds a place in my mind: the break-up, the crash.
I would have preferred to not remember anything.
I'm alive is the first thought which brings a smile on my lips. But even smiling hurts so I stop and suffer in silence, still appreciating this one thought: I'm alive.
"Miss MaCauley, you're awake", says a nurse as she walks towards me.
"How are you feeling? She asks.
-It hurts.
-Where does it hurt?
-My head. And my arm and...
-Everywhere, right?
-Yes", I answer in a breath.
Even speaking is complicated.
"You'll be alright, the nurse replies. You already made it all the way here.
-What do you mean "all the way here"?
-The driver of the other car died, that's what I heard."
My eyes are filled with tears. I'm kind of feeling responsible for the death of the driver, even if he's the one who plowed into ME.
"Anyway, she continues. Your family is here. Can I let them enter? They really want to see you; they were dead anxious when they learnt about the accident and...
-Let them come in, I interrupt her.
-Of course", she replies before going out of the room.
Within seconds, she enters with mom and dad.
"Honey, mom says. How are you feeling? She asks as she bents next to me.
-It hurts, I say.
-It'll be okay, sweetie, says dad as he holds my hand.
-We love you very much, you know that, right? Asks mom.
-I love you too, I reply, crying.
-Why are you crying, my little angel? Asks mom as she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
-Did the driver of the other car really died?" I request.
Dad nods and it makes me cry harder.
Mom and dad exchange a look as if they are reflecting about telling me something I don't know.
"What is it?" I ask.
They don't answer anything.
"Mom?"
She is crying.
"Dad?
-Sweetie, he whispers. You know this man.
-The one who was driving and who...died?
-Yes.
-Who is it, dad? I cry
-Noah"
Tears are blurring my vision.
"It's impossible, I cry. This can't be him. Mom! Dad! Tell me it's not him."
They don't answer.
I close my eyes and relive the crash. The red truck: Noah's one.
But how is that possible? I just saw this car in his driveway!
But now I see it, the flaw of this perfect mystery. It wasn't his truck I saw at his house; I remember being surprised it was this clean and without a scratch.
"My dad wants to offer me a car on my birthday, even if I tell him mine's all good", his voice flashes through my mind.
This all makes sense. The car tricked me.
"Addison, Ava had said to me, aren't you staying? Noah is coming, he will be there any minute."
I was too upset about the fact that he had a girlfriend to realize he wasn't there.
"I killed him
-No, you didn't, sweetie, says mom. He was the one making the accident. You didn't...."
She continues speaking but all I can hear is my heart exploding in my chest.
I wake up with a start.
I am in my room, the shutters and curtains are open, I have my day clothes on. I must have fallen asleep after I came back from school. I sight.
"It was just a nightmare", I thought.
I get up and take my medicine. Since the accident, I have a lot of nightmares. If we can call them that, because all they really do is make me live this day all over.
I swallow some paracetamol for my migraine and hide my face into my hands.
I hate having flashbacks like this, even if it happens daily since last year.
I lift my head up and look through my window, trying to think about another thing than the accident. The dark sky shows a few stars this night, and the moon shines brightly.
My phone buzzes with a message. I take it from my nightstand and unlock it.
Apparently, I received a message from an unknown number. I am about to delete it when I see the first few words: "Hey Addison, it's Charlie".
I open the message while smiling.
CHARLIE- Hey Addison, it's Charlie. Olivia gave me your number, hope it's okay with you. Just wanted to check in, see how you're doing.
I can't help smiling. He asked for my number, and he texted me to "check in".
ME- Hey Charlie, totally okay with it. I'm fine. What about you?
CHARLIE- Good.
I want to continue texting him, but I really don't know what to say.
Come on, Addison, think of something!
I see bubbles appear to indicate he is writing. A few seconds after, I finally receive a text.
CHARLIE- Actually, I wanted to ask you something
This begins to intrigue me.
ME- Go on
CHARLIE- Well, I was thinking of going to the cinema this weekend to see a new movie and I was wondering if u would like to come
A dozen of questions pass through my mind: "Why is he asking me that?", "Which movie?", "Does he want us to go alone?", "Or with some of his friends?", "Is he asking me out?", "What do I answer?", etc.
CHARLIE- I mean, if you want. It'll be chill, just you and me.
My stomach did a weird thing as I read the last text he sent me.
So, he is actually asking me out?!
ME- I would love that
What has gotten into me? I would not LOVE that! It would only make me sad, thinking about all the times we did that with Noah.
CHARLIE- Awesome, we'll meet at 4 p.m. by the park?
Now, it is too late to change my response.
ME- Works for me
CHARLIE- Well, see you at school then
ME- Wait
CHARLIE- Yeah?
ME- What movie are we watching?
CHARLIE- I was sure you would ask me this
ME- So...?
CHARLIE- So, you'll see
ME- No, don't do that to me! I need to know what we're going to watch!
CHARLIE- You'll see when time comes, don't worry ;)
ME- You've got to be kidding me!
CHRALIE- Patience, Addison. Your time will come to know.
I laugh at his stupid response.
ME- You're ridiculous. You do know that, don't you?
CHARLIE- I knew you would laugh.
I smile, he knows me too well.
ME- I guess you won't tell me, after all. So, see you tomorrow?
CHARLIE- You finally understood😂 Yeah, see u tomorrow.
As I turn off my phone and take a shower, Charlie is the only thing on my mind. That's just when I'm about to go to sleep that I realize the only thought of him texting me made me forget all about the accident.
I turn off the lights and fall asleep with a smile on my lips, rethinking our whole conversation.
After two days of school, Saturday finally arrived. I am supposed to meet up with Charlie in two hours and I haven't started to prepare myself yet.
I'm standing in front of my wardrobe. I have NO idea what to wear. I mean, I have tons of clothes, but I can't seem to find THE outfit that matches going-out-with-a boy-who's-supposed-to-be-my-friend-but-it-may-be-a-date kind of event.
Normally, I call Liv for help, or a friend. But honestly, after our last call, I don't really want to talk to Liv. And my only girl friend isn't my friend anymore (even though I guess she never has been).
"Huh, dammit", I grumble, letting myself fall heavily on my bed.
"What do I wear?", I ask to my empty room, half-crying of frustration.
No, I am not crying about not finding something to wear. I am crying about not having anybody to help me find something to wear. I'm crying about not having a single friend. I'm crying about having a messy life and live more in the past than the present.
I hear the creaking of my bedroom door and get up to see mom.
"How are you doing?" She asks.
I dry my tears: "I'm fine".
She sits next to me on my bed.
"Addie, you know you can tell me the truth, she says with her usual sweetness.
-You want the truth?", I reply, half crying and half yelling.
She calmly nods.
"I don't have any friends! Each time I fall asleep, I relive the crash all over again! I have a messy life! And I don't even know what to wear, I hate all this clothes!"
As the words get out of my mouth, sounding more and more mean, I feel like I'm the worst daughter. Mom is there for me, she worries about me.
And what do I do to thank her? I yell at her. What a good idea, Addison!
I'm such an idiot!
I'm a monster.
Doesn't surprise me nobody wants to be my friend! Every time, I mess everything up. Every time, it all ends badly by my fault.
Mom, instead of correcting me for yelling at her, and being mean and being the worst daughter EVER, hugs me.
I cry in her arms, feeling eight years old again. I still remember all the nights I spend hugging mom and crying in her arms because I had a nightmare or thought there was a monster under my bed.
All this time, she never left me, she always listened to me and believed me. I love her so much, but all I do is making her worry more than she should.
"It's okay", she whispers, passing her hand in my hair.
After a few minutes, I pull out of the hug. She looks me in the eyes and said:
"I'm proud of you, Addison.
-Why? I ask. All I ever do is mess up things! I cry.
-No, you don't. You make things better when you're a part of it. The only mistake you make is thinking YOU are the problem.
-Because I am!
-No, you're not", she replies.
She takes a deep breath before she continues:
"A lot of things happened in the past, and these things, by some way, still affects your today. But Addison, darling, don't ever feel guilty for all that happened. It wasn't your fault."
I stare at the floor, tears falling along my cheeks.
"Look at me", mom says.
I raise my look on her perfectly beautiful face. I always wondered how it was possible to not have a spot nor a wrinkle nor a single imperfection like she does.
"You didn't kill him", she continues.
Before I can escape from her look, she left my chin up with her hand.
"It wasn't your fault, Addison. And believe me when I say it's okay to forget it and to move on with your life. It's what Noah would have wanted you to do.
-I can't forget him.
-I don't ask you to forget HIM, just to think of another thing.
-To leave him in the back?
-No, darling, you can't do that. But you can still find something else which makes you happy, which makes your life worth living."
"Or somebody else, who knows?", she adds while laughing.
I smile, thinking about how right she is. Except she doesn't know I already found this person. And I have a meeting with him in one hour and a half now!
"What are you smiling about? Mom asks, smiling as well.
-Think I already found this person.
-Really?" She asks, surprised.
"Is he from a book or something? Is this some kind of joke?"
I get up.
"Nope, he's real. And I have to meet him in an hour and a half, actually.
-Oh, that's why you were upset about these clothes!" She laughs a little.
I join her.
"Well, I don't even know what to wear.
-I can see that, she replies as she looks at the pajamas I'm wearing.
-Can you help me?" I ask with a touch of hope.
"Pretty please? I add.
-I'd love to."
After two minutes, mom found me THE perfect outfit: a white shirt, a beige sweater with a V-neck and jeans.
Mom leaves my room to let me finish preparing myself.
I do a light make-up and after a few tries, finally got my eyeliner perfectly.
I take my black leather hobo bag and put my heeled boots on before going out of the house.
The park is just fifteen minutes away from home, so I go by foot, listening to "Made up story" by Andi in my ear pods.
I still don't know which movie we're watching, and I admit it makes me kind of nervous. I mean, I'm not a horror movie fan, neither an action movie fan. But more than the movie, the meeting itself makes me nervous: is this a date?
This question didn't leave my mind since I got Charlie's text asking me out.
Because I'm at the meeting spot -a bench at the entry of the park- ahead of time, I sit and get my notebook and pencil out of my bag.
I always take my notebook with me whenever I go out in case I have time to draw something. Drawing, painting: this has always been my hobby since I was a little kid. It captivated me how we can create something with almost nothing and capture all the beauty of the world on a sheet of paper. And it still does today.
I know some people think art isn't a real subject, or that being an artist isn't a real job. But I don't really care about what they say. It's my life, after all! It's MY future, MY dreams, not theirs. So I guess it's fine to be an artist if I want to. And like dad always told me: "Do whatever makes you happy". I don't want to be loved and admired by everyone, anyways. I don't want to become a successful artist, just a woman, among millions of others, who tries to find her way to her one dream she still thinks is achievable.
I rapidly transliterate the idyllic setting on the paper: cherry trees blossoming, and further on, children playing the ball. Soon, I see a new character arriving in the setting.
"Charlie, you're here", I say as I put my ear pods off and close my notebook.
Hey :)
So this is the end of chapter seven. I hope you enjoyed reading it. This chapter was a little bit different than usual, a little longer too. So I will love to hear your thoughts on it.
Also, we discovered Addison's deeper secret, didn't we?
Thanks for reading, it means a lot to me.
Have a good day/night❤️
Lots of love,
Ayla🩵