Page 11 of Crash into me
Physically exhausted, and mentally drained, I fall back onto my bed. The action causes pain to course through me; I need to recover quickly. “I just need you two to watch shitty horror movies with me.”
“Done!” Kate sings.
After the two-hour-long shitty movie fest, they get ready to leave. Kate wanted to stay the night, but I insisted that she go home. I need privacy to cry.
Brett pulls me into a careful hug, and before he leaves my room, he locks the door behind him to keep anyone from getting to me. He does it quietly, but I notice, and I appreciate it.
Alone, I carefully crawl out onto the roof, my palms grazing the rough tiles. Remembering every moment I spent here with Foster. Our first kiss.
I didn’t forget him.
I never could.
But he needs to forget me.
5
Aquiet knock sounds on the door, and then the handle wiggles. “Skyler? Your door is locked.” It’s Mom.
How long have I been asleep?
I rustle out of the bed, the soreness more apparent now that the medicine from my IV has worn off. “One second.” I finally trudge to the door and unlock it. “Hey.”
“You feeling okay?”
I shrug. “Not really.”
She hands me some medicine and a glass of water. “Here’s the pain medicine. Take it easy for a while.” Before she walks away, she turns back to me. “Oh, and leave this door unlocked. You know how your father feels about locked doors.”
“No one ever comes up here besides Mrs. Rita,” I clap back; she knows this.
She closes the door, and I close myself back inside of the bed.
* * *
A few days have passed,filled with sleep and medicine. Recovery is going well I guess, but I’m lonely. I don’t want this room filled with expensive things or this giant house filled with material objects.
I want Foster’s room at his house, I want the car he gave me.
I don't want any of this.
But Sophie’s getting good treatments, and I’m getting better. The pain of recovery is nothing my body hasn’t seen before. I’m healing, though, with scabs and yellowed skin showcasing that my body is traveling on the road to okay.
But it doesn’t feel okay. The more I heal, the more the memory of Foster fades. But I have to let him go for my sake. I wonder if he’s already moved on.
With Envy?
No, he wouldn’t. He’ll raise the child, he’ll be a good dad … but he wouldn’t be with her, right?
At least one good thing will happen today. I’m peering out the window, watching as my parents’ Lexus pulls out of the driveway. I saw Kent packing luggage inside, which means they’re leaving for a fanciful business trip as I sit here and rot, but at least I get to rot alone, in peace.
The whole house to myself. What am I going to do? Mrs. Rita was normally here when they left; I miss her so much.
I dance down to the kitchen to find Mom reading a magazine at the breakfast table. “Oh, you’re here?” She’s never here when he’s not.
She looks up, tilting her head at me. “Yeah, I didn’t want to go.”
I pull open the fridge door, grabbing a bottle of pressed juice. “Where did he go?” I ask.