Chapter 22
Hayes
It’s been almost two days since I texted Holden and he has yet to respond.
The last time we spoke, he was talking animatedly about going on a road trip. It felt very much to me like he was having a manic episode because he was so fixated on it and it worried me.
Every time he behaves in this way, it’s followed by a horrible depressive episode.
So, three days ago, I thought about calling my parents and telling them about it. But then I thought maybe he was just busy and that’s why he hadn’t responded yet. But now it’s late afternoon and there’s been nothing.
I feel my phone vibrate in my jeans pocket and I nearly jump out of my skin. Holding out hope it’s a message from Holden, I yank it out in my hand and read the screen. Disappointment wells inside my chest when I see it’s not Holden; it’s a text from Killer.
Killer: Hey, bro, you going to our training session early? LMK. I can give you a ride. It’s pissing down today and figured you might not want to walk.
I’m still getting to know my teammates, but so far they all seem like good guys. It’s a shame that the few I’ve become closest to will graduate this spring. Playing next fall will not be the same without Killer, Hendy, and EJ.
Me: Yeah. That’d be great. I can meet you at the student union in ten.
Killer: Cool.
I hurry across the quad, covering my head with my bag to keep from getting soaked from the downpour and meet Killer. When I open the door and slide in, he cocks his head to the side and examines me.
“Dude, you look sort of frazzled. You okay?” Killer asks me as I climb into his truck. I glance down and realize my shirt’s askew and do a quick scan into the side mirror, noticing that my hair is a mess and I have bags under my eyes.
“Just worried about my brother,” I admit, staring at my phone again before turning to look at Killian’s profile. “I haven’t heard from him in a few days. It’s not like him.”
Killian gives me a quick glance, turning his eyes to me before shifting them back to the road ahead. “You’re close with him, huh?”
“We’re twins…so…” I trail off with a shrug. But Killer’s question has memories flooding my mind like a river overflowing after a storm. Holden and I were so close before the accident. We did everything together. Hell, we even shared a best friend…until he died.
I swear I can feel Holden’s pain right now and that freaks me out. It also makes me feel so goddamn guilty I could tear my hair out.
“Have you called your parents to see what they’ve heard?” Killer asks. “My younger brothers are always fucking around and never let my parents know where the hell they are. Maybe it’s like that with yours. I wouldn’t worry too much. I’m sure he’s fine and just needs a little space.”
I swallow nervously and shake my head. My brother has really struggled to get on with life after Kevin’s death and my parents have done what they could to help him. I hate bothering them about Holden and don’t want them to freak out over nothing. They’ve dealt with enough already as it is.
God, sometimes I wish my life was different. I wish I had never suggested we go to that party that night. I wish I hadn’t been looking at my phone in the car. I wish Kevin hadn’t taken his eyes off the road while driving. I wish so many things that I know can’t ever come true.
“Yeah, maybe. I just have a weird feeling something’s really wrong,” I answer, the concern evident in my voice.
“Do you have that twin telepathy thing? Maybe that’s giving you that juju. You should call them, if you’re worried,” he urges as he parks in front of the training facility.
He’s right. I should. We pass a few players from the soccer team as we enter the building and Killer notices me watching them when he glances over at me.
“You miss it?” he asks, nodding toward a player carrying a soccer ball under his arm.
I want to say no. I want to say football was always my first choice. But I’d be lying to my new friend. I, for once, don’t want to lie or pretend about how I really feel.
“Yeah. I do,” I confess, glancing at him to see how he’ll respond.
“You know, I used to play when I was little. So if you ever want to kick around the ball at the house, just let me know,” he offers.
“Thanks, man. I’d love that,” I say with a smile, but deep down the fact that I’m here playing football instead of back home playing soccer still feels like a sucker punch to my already wounded soul.
“Come on, let’s go get ripped!” he says loudly as he makes a cheesy pose that has his biceps popping.
I chuckle, unable not to feel a little amused by Killer even if my mind keeps trying to pull me under the tidal wave of my guilt.
After our training session, Killer drops me off back at my house and I run inside, trying to stay dry. When I step inside the front door, I pull my phone out again and check my texts. No response.
Me: Holden. Where are you? Please text me back or call me ASAP.
I hold my phone in my hand hoping it’ll ping, but nothing happens. I set it on my bed and lie down next to it, staring absently up at the ceiling. Dread washes over me in the form of a cold sweat. My stomach knots. My heart pounds wildly. The last time I was this conflicted over Holden’s state of mind was when I left Paris unexpectedly.
He’s been on the brink before and I can’t imagine my life without him. That’s why I’m here now. I’d do anything for him, including giving up my dreams of soccer and living out his dreams of playing college football.
At least, while at CFU, I get to major in a program that interests me. I have found the perfect woman and I’ve met some pretty great new friends. There’s also the opportunity I have to run without a limp. I grimace at that thought. Holden still walks with a cane and although he’s lucky to have his leg, he”ll never run again.
And it guts me.
Due to the complexities of his injuries and the almost daily therapy, Holden wasn’t able to attend school on a college campus. So he tried out an online program his first year, and then the second year he was at the community college I attended, but it was never what he wanted to do. His dreams of attending a big university, playing football, going to parties, and having a serious girlfriend never came to fruition.
I punch at my mattress, hating how unfair life is.
I don’t want to break his trust. I know reaching out to our parents if there’s nothing wrong would destroy him and turn me into a narc.
On the other hand…if I don’t, this will eat at me until I’m leveled by another panic attack. I inhale deeply, expelling the air from my lungs through the count of ten just like my therapist instructed me to do, and then another, counting backwards each time.
Finally, when I feel calm enough, I decide to call my parents as a check in and just casually ask about my brother. Yes, that’s it.
I pick up my phone and dial my mom. She answers on the second ring sounding almost winded.
“Hayes?” she answers, her breath coming out in a rush.
“Hi, Mom,” I reply, trying to figure out how to bring up Holden without making it sound like I’m being overprotective.
She practically stammers out her reply. “H-how are you?”
I frown. Mom’s not usually one to stumble over her words.
“Is there something wrong, Mom?” I sit up in bed and fight down the anxious, uneasy feeling that tears through my gut.
Her deep, anguished sigh tells me immediately something isn’t right. My mom is always lighthearted and wears an actual smile in her voice. But right now she sounds stilted and stiff. I stand up and begin to pace, waiting for her to answer me.
“Honey, first, I just want you to know that everything is okay with Holden,” she begins, and alarm bells begin blaring in my head.
“Mom…you’re freaking me out! What’s wrong with him?”
I stop next to my dresser and stare at a photo of my family prominently displayed on top. My throat constricts and I swallow nervously, afraid to hear the answer to my question.
“Honey, Holden was admitted to a facility today.” She stops abruptly and a dead silence descends between us. Without even seeing her, I can tell she’s on the verge of tears.
“Holy shit. Oh, my God. What?” My heart skips a beat. Knees buckling, I sit back down on my bed. I bend over at the waist and slam a hand through my hair, clutching the strands tightly in my grip. “Is he okay?”
Visions of him lying in a hospital bed…hooked up to machines. Nearly dead.
And then a thought hits me. Is it the medical hospital or a psych ward?
“He will be, eventually, but it will take time. Right now, your brother needs professional help. We aren’t able to give him what he needs here at home. I’m so sorry.” She tries to stifle a sob and my heart breaks.
It seems I’m not the only one who has held on to guilt all these years.
“Mom, you know it’s not your fault. Can you tell me what happened?” I ask, fearing the truth but needing it with a desperation that claws at my soul.
“He just started ranting about the road trip and wasn’t making a lot of sense.” She almost chokes out the last word. “With his therapist’s help, we got him to agree to check into a facility for a while. It’s the best place for him.” She’s now crying on the other end of the line.
Goddamn, this seems hopeless.
I love my brother more than words, but sometimes I’m so damn mad at him for not making sound choices. I know that it’s not his fault. I do. But I can’t help getting angry at him for what he puts us through.
“I’m sorry, Hayes-bear. I’m so sorry. We should have called yesterday, but our focus was on Holden. Please forgive us.”
Oh fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“When did it happen?” I inquire, tears now streaming down my face.
She clears her throat. “Two nights ago.”
I drop to my knees. Fuck!
Two nights ago we were texting and I said something stupid—that I missed playing soccer. This is all my fucking fault. I pushed him over the edge. I will never forgive myself.
“I’m coming home,” I state emphatically, wiping away the tears that stream down my cheeks, furious with myself for not thinking about how that selfish fucking comment would affect Holden’s mental state.
“No, sweetie. You don’t need to just yet. Holden won’t be seeing visitors for a few weeks, but I’ll let him know you love him and want him to get better. Just stay there. He’d want you to stay in school,” Mom pleads.
My voice breaks right along with my heart. “Mom, please.”
“Oh, Hayes, sweetheart. I know. I’m sorry. We’ll get through this, just like we’ve gotten through everything else. I promise,” she soothes, her voice sounding a little stronger now and more assured as if she’s encouraging herself too.
“I know. I just wish I could be there with him.” I press my elbows into my thighs, staring down at the floor between my feet, tears dropping to the wood one by one.
I wish I could say something to comfort her. To comfort both of us. Reminding her that Holden is strong, but right now, he’s so broken. We’re all broken and we will never be the same.
I just hope we can heal from it. I can deal with the scars, but the open wound from losing Kevin, and Holden’s life-altering injuries, and how my life turned upside down…it all feels like too much.
“I should go. Dad will be home soon for dinner. You want him to call you later?” she asks.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. Please keep me updated on Holden, alright?”
“Of course, sweetie. I’ll call you this weekend after we get to visit with him,” she says. “And please continue to talk to your therapist, okay? It’s so important to address your feelings and not bottle them up inside.”
I can read between the lines. What she doesn’t add is…like Holden did.
“Okay,” I reply. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, sweetie,” she says as we disconnect.
My phone trembles in my hand as I stare at it for a few minutes in a daze before my gaze darts to where my duffle bag sits in the corner of my room. I know I told her I’d stay here, but how can I? Holden needs me. He’s my brother. My twin.
We’ve been through this together and I’ve been by his side up until the past six months. It was hard enough when I was away for so long in Paris, but then coming here feels so…final and life-changing. Like I’m moving on and he’s stuck in place.
I’d give anything to switch places with him. He was always the one with big plans. I just figured I’d play soccer at a local college and then work for someone near our hometown. And now here I am, traveling the world, playing ball at a big university, and planning a career that could take me anywhere in the world.
Lately, I’ve almost become excited about the possibilities. Especially since I’ve been with Kelsie. She brings something alive inside me that I thought died in the accident.
I rise off the bed to my feet and falter when I reach for my bag.
Do I stay or do I go?
My gaze returns to the family photo. It was taken during happier times and it feels like a lifetime ago.
I know what I have to do, whether I want to or not.
I need to be there for Holden.