Nash My mother paced in front of my bed, wringing her hands, and my dad sat in the chair beside the bed they had me lying on, with his elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging down, staring at the floor. I was alive. That had been the most important thing at first. But after, the doctor came in to inform us that I had tested positive for marijuana and they expected the same from Haegan’s evaluation. Mrs. Wise’s husband could press charges. I was eighteen now. We were all waiting for the hospital to release me. Dad had called a lawyer. I’d heard him talking to him. I hadn’t been driving, so it sounded like it wouldn’t be as severe as it could have been. They didn’t know what to say to this. I could apologize for my stupidity. But those were words. They did no good. They didn’t change anything. Haegan was dead. Mrs. Wise was dead. I had six stitches in my head, a broken arm, and some bruising and cuts. Nothing more. I’d walk out of here today. Life would go on. My parents were upset over the weed and the fact I could be prosecuted as an adult. I had just seen my friend die. Looked into his lifeless eyes. Saw a family grieving over a woman they loved, a woman they lost. I deserved whatever happened. I had lived. I wasn’t worried about what they decided to do with me. I had made a mistake that had altered lives. There was a knock on the door, and Ryker st epped inside. “They gonna let you out of here anytime soon?” he asked. He
didn’t know about the weed yet. He probably had guessed it, though. “Yes, soon,” I told him. “You got a waiting room out there full of people. I told them you’d be getting out soon. No reason to come in here and visit. But Tallulah is out there with her mom. Thought you’d want to see her.” Tallulah. The reason I’d smoked the weed. That motherfucking kiss. If I hadn’t seen her kiss Coach D, I would have seen her tonight. I wouldn’t have gotten messed up, and Haegan would be alive. Mrs. Wise would be alive. “I don’t want to see her. She can go on home.” The words came out hard. Angry. I felt all three pairs of eyes on me. I didn’t meet any of them. I turned my heated glare to the window and wished I’d never met her. Never kissed her. Never spoken to her. “You sure about that?” Ryker asked, confused. “Yes, I’m sure,” I snarled. “Well, all righty then.” He was confused, but he wasn’t going to push me for a reason, at least not yet. The only other person who knew about the kiss she’d had with Coach D was gone. I held that information. No one else did. I had the power to hurt her and ruin him. But I wasn’t sure I could do it. Not because I was concerned for him. It was her. She’d be humiliated. She’d be faced with legal issues and questions. She would get attention she didn’t want. “Give us a minute, Ryker,” my dad said, standing up.
Ryker nodded and went back out into the hallway. Once the door closed behind him, Dad cleared his throat to get my attention. I didn’t want to talk, but I turned to him. “The girl, is she into drugs? Is that how this got started?” I laughed. It wasn’t a real laugh. It was hollow, empty. “No.” “Then why are you so angry with her? The moment Ryker mentioned her, you tensed and changed. If she had something to do with this, we need to know. This is important, son.” I swung my legs off the bed and stood up to get away from him. I needed distance. I wasn’t talking about Tallulah with him. For now her secret would be her secret. It would be one that ruined me. Ruined many lives. “She’s a bitch. A lying, manipulative bitch. That’s all. But she’s never in her life touched weed or even a damn beer.” My mother sighed. “Then why weren’t you with her? Why did you have to spend time with that boy?” Hearing Haegan referred to as “that boy” felt wrong. Like his life hadn’t been important. Like it hadn’t made an impact. I loved my mother, but sometimes she only saw what affected her. “He was someone’s son, big brother, and he was loved by fans all over the world. He was a friend that helped me get out of a funk and taught me that I could find life outside of football. He was crazy as hell, did insane shit, but he was fun. So don’t call him ‘that boy,’ Mom. He was Haegan. Today I was listening to him laugh, plan a prank with chickens, and then I saw his eyes empty. Void. The life gone. Just like that. Just... like... that.” I walked over to
the window and put both palms flat on the cool glass. There was a life out there. It didn’t stop because others died. It k ept going, yet it wouldn’t be the same. “I didn’t mean he wasn’t important. I was just saying Tallulah was a better influence.” Shaking my head, I wondered what Mom would think if I told her Tallulah was making out with our literature teacher. What kind of influence was that? “Mom, I’ve smoked weed before. I didn’t know Haegan then. He didn’t force it on me. I am a big boy. It was a choice I made. A mistake that I can’t take back. It’s done, and I’ve got to live with it. Haegan’s family has to live with it. Pastor Wise and his family have to live with it.” “Nash! Son, when did you start doing drugs? We’ve taught you better than that. I trusted you. We both did.” My mother was upset over me smoking weed. Great. I got her problem with it, but there was a bigger issue. “I don’t think he’s confessing to being an addict, babe,” Dad said, trying to calm her down. “He’s just pointing out that Haegan isn’t to blame for this. Nash is grown. He made his own choices, and he is owning up to that.” Mom let out a sob, and he went over to her. Pulled her to his chest. My eyes met his, and I saw the disappointment there, but I also saw the relief. I was here. Alive. It could have been me. They weren’t saying it. But I knew they were thinking it.
The door opened, and the nurse walked in. “We’ve got your release papers. Looks like you have a crowd waiting on you out there.” She was trying to be happy and upbeat. That was her job, I guess. But I didn’t want to go out and face any of them. I wanted to go home. Alone. “I don’t want to deal with any of that,” I told my dad. He nodded. “I’ll go clear them out.” “But that’s rude,” my mother said, looking stressed. Dad paused. “He needs time. He watched a friend die today. Give him some time. Being polite isn’t what’s important now.” Mom sniffled and nodded her head. “You’re right,” she agreed. “Send them home, but thank them for coming.” Dad had been planning on just that. I had no doubt. But Mom needed to say it anyway. When he left, the nurse started to tell me how to take care of my stitches, but I didn’t hear any of it. My thoughts were somewhere else.