Chapter 22
twenty-two
SASHA
The guys all sit around Davis, comforting and supporting him after he finally opened up about his struggles with depression.
They rally around him, showing more love between the five of them than I’ve ever known.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve felt a lot of love in my life, but this is different. They’re like brothers, a group of people that will never be able to be separated, they’re family.
I lean against the kitchen counter, using it to prop up my arms and hold my head in my hands. I’m happy for him, but my heart still breaks because I wasn’t able to give him the comfort he obviously needed. Hell, I’m not even the one who convinced him to finally tell them.
“He’s lucky to have you,” Claire says, leaning on the counter next to me, watching her friends.
She shouldn’t be this nice to me, not after everything I’ve done and said to her. “You’re the one who convinced him to say something.”
She laughs, “you’re joking, right?” When I don’t answer, she just shakes her head, “he would have never done this if you weren’t here.”
That makes me pause.
This whole time, I thought Johnny was the one helping me, holding me up when I felt like I couldn’t do it myself… but what if we’ve been helping each other?
None of them had any idea how bad things have been for him, he never told them. He kept this secret every day, and all of a sudden he’s found the strength to tell them the truth.
Maybe Claire’s right. Maybe I am the reason why he’s finally opening up.
But that would mean things are a lot more serious than I thought, and that’s really scary.
Big feelings mean big hurt if it all goes wrong, and as much as I want to believe that this is forever, I can’t help but prepare for when it gets snatched away from me.
If I’m always expecting to get hurt, then it can’t hurt.
If I’m prepared to have my heart broken, then it can’t possibly be the thing that breaks me.
Jurian’s death was a surprise, Nathan’s true nature was a surprise, and both of those things nearly swallowed me whole.
Losing Johnny would be the final straw.
“He would have told them eventually, they would have noticed eventually,” I tell her.
She shakes her head, “they had four years to notice.”
The cold February night air nips at my cheeks while I walk down the street with Claire and Steph.
These people understand me in a way that only Jurian did, in a way that I thought I would never feel again. They know when to push and when to hold back, they know there’s things I can’t explain to them, and they’re okay with that.
“So about that story…” I say.
Claire smiles, shoving her hands in her jacket pocket. “Which one? The one where I failed miserably at confronting my feelings for Lucas or the one where I own the hockey arena?”
Steph snorts, “failed miserably is such bullshit. You got the guy in the end.”
“I want to know about you,” I tell Claire, then turn to Steph. “Both of you actually.”
Cars whiz past us, bright lights blinding me temporarily. They’re filled with people going on about their lives, going places to see someone special, or jamming out to music with their friends.
It makes me miss the freedom I felt every time I got into the driver’s seat.
I miss being able to go anywhere I want, listening to music with the windows down, and feeling like I could forget how invisible I felt every day.
But I’m not invisible anymore. I have friends. I have people who want to be in my life and learn about me, and do things with me.
I’m not alone anymore.
“Sasha, I want you to understand that what I’m about to tell you is something that very few people know, and while I’m not ashamed of my past, I don’t exactly broadcast it to the world every chance I get.
” Claire’s voice has a hard edge to it, one I’ve never heard before.
But I have a sneaking suspicion that she’s trusting me, and I’m not entirely sure I deserve to be.
While I know her and Johnny are just friends, there’s still a little part of me that feels gutted when I see them together.
There’s so much more to their friendship, so much more to what’s going on between them than I think anyone knows.
“I understand.”
Steph turns down a path, one leading towards a park. She pulls her phone out of her pocket while gesturing towards a bench. “I’m gonna call my mom, you guys let me know when you’re ready to go.”
As she walks off, I feel the tension radiating off of Claire. She’s nervous, and based on the introduction to what she’s about to tell me, I don’t think I blame her.
“I grew up very privileged, and because of that, people tend to think that I shouldn’t have anything to complain about… and while I’m very thankful for the opportunities I had, I also think I should be able to talk about the dark side of that privilege.”
My heart sinks, not because I feel pity for her —I’m sure that’s the last thing she wants— but because I judged her and assumed her life was perfect.
Her lips form a tight line, “I know that face. You’re trying not to feel bad for me.”
“That’s not it at all.” I struggle to get the words out. “I just thought that-“
“I couldn’t have had anything bad happen to me because I’m pretty and rich?” She finishes for me. “It’s okay, you aren’t the first to think that, and won’t be the last. But I have never thought of myself as the type to showcase her wealth…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” She tells me, placing one cold hand on mine. “It comes with the territory.”
Her hands start to shake, but I don’t think it’s from the cold. I think —like me— these kinds of conversations, and opening up to people, is hard for her.
“My parents loved my brother, and I think in a way they loved me too, but that love and attention that I craved so desperately came with a price. My father was… violent. I never told anyone until a couple of months ago when my brother finally witnessed it for himself.”
Her soft voice sends a chill down my spine.
Violent.
Her father hit her.
Claire looks up, staring at the night sky. “It was the first time I felt free.” The dry laugh that comes out of her lips surprises me, “how fucked up is that? My father hurts me so badly I pass out, and I feel free.”
Because you knew it was over, I think.
Whether it was because she thought he was going to kill her, or because she knew someone finally saw what was happening and could pull her out, it was going to be over.
Either way, the abuse was going to end.
“It’s easy for people to judge when they don’t know the truth,” I tell her, “when everyone else thinks they’ve got you figured out, they miss the signs.”
Like I missed them with Nathan.
Claire’s hand grips mine tighter, “you’re very smart, Sasha Price.”
I shrug.
“You are, and I think it’s about time you start giving yourself some credit. You see a lot more than people think you do, you see people for who they really are, not the person they choose to show the world.”
My eyes start to sting, “I didn’t see Nathan for who he really was.”
Claire shakes her head, “you saw him for the boy you knew. He changed, he made a choice, that isn’t on you, Sasha.”
For a second, I turn away, hiding my face and watching the world around me. It seems like I’m the only thing stuck in time, forever frozen while everything else moves on.
“At some point, you’re going to have to forgive yourself. You’re the only person who can.”
I turn back to her, “do you think the guys are actually as understanding as you are? They’re pretty protective of you. I don’t think they take what happened lightly.”
She thinks about that for a second, her brown hair blowing lightly in the breeze. “I don’t think they can judge you for what happened, they made their own mistakes…”
“What do you mean?”
She laughs, “ironically enough, it’s how Lucas and I got together.
That night —at the party— I made a move on him, he didn’t react well and Nathan came swooping in to make me feel better.
Everything happened, and the boys thought I slept with him to get back at Lucas, they had no idea what really happened.
When they finally found out, it was when I confronted Nathan at the game, and then they did everything they could to make it up to me. ”
So they found out along with everyone else. Her friends turned their backs on her, and she somehow found it within herself to forgive them.
“It took a little while, but eventually Lucas and I sorted out our shit, and we’ve been together ever since.
” She looks towards Steph and waves her over, “life is messy, Sasha. It’s not always going to be cut and dry, but you can trust that we’re all here to stay.
We’ve all done stupid things, but nothing can change the fact that we love each other. ”
The way she talks about them is beautiful. To her, they aren’t just friends, they’re family. She found a home in people who would do anything for her, and even though I’m still adjusting to this little group, I can relate.
These people, they’re special.
They love with their whole hearts, they trust one another, they have faith that as long as they stick together… everything will turn out fine.
Which —I believe— is true.
They didn’t run when I told them my secret, they held on tighter.
“Why did you blame yourself?” Claire asks.
We both know what she’s talking about. “I was driving, I had my foot on the pedal when that truck hit us, I’m the one who was in control, and I let them down.”
Part of me knows it wasn’t my fault, but the other part of me doesn’t want to believe it was just an accident. How could I possibly believe that the world could be so cruel, be so ruthless that it rips away the most important person in my life because of an accident?
It’s hard to wrap my head around a truth so hard to swallow that I find myself choking on it whenever I try.
And I don’t. Try, that is.
I let myself wallow in the pain, but never think of the why. I never let my mind wander enough to think about why all of this had happened because I’m too afraid of the answer.
Steph sits down on the other side of me, and I don’t need to ask if she heard everything. I know she did.
“There’s not much I do want to know,” I tell them. “If I never go looking for answers, then they can’t hurt me. It’s easier to assume that I’m the fuck up than consider the alternative.”
“You were never to blame.” Steph lays her head on my shoulder. “Nothing bad that’s happened to you is your fault, Sasha. You got the shit end of the stick, but trust me… being the cause of your own demise isn’t the better option.”
There are so many things that could mean, but my mind instantly lands on her confession.
I really fucked up when I was younger, and I don’t think my parents have ever looked at me the same.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask.
She shakes her head, “there will be a day when I decide to share, but today isn’t that day.”
Claire rests her head on my other shoulder, mirroring her best friend. “Don’t take it personally, she hasn’t told me either.”
That takes me by surprise. I didn’t think there’d be a single thing that Stephanie Saunders would keep from her best friend.
I guess secrets do still exist in this group.
If you told me three months ago that I’d be sitting across the table from Lucas St. James while he begs for my forgiveness… I’d probably have told you that you’re delusional.
And yet, here I am, sitting across the table from Lucas St. James in Estellas, while he begs for my forgiveness.
He all but jumped me when I walked out of my video game design class and asked if I had a second.
I can’t believe my first time actually sitting inside this restaurant is because he messed up and feels bad for it.
Food’s great though.
“Anyway, that’s why I’m sorry.” He looks like a kicked puppy.
I arch a brow, “why did you drag me all the way over here?”
His face scrunches in confusion, “uh, to apologize?”
I hate men.
“Yes, I know that, but why did you have to bring me here to do it?” I pick up a fry and toss it into my mouth, “you already apologized, and I’ve already forgiven you.”
This feels like it was already resolved, it fucking hurt, but I don’t want to dwell on it.
Lucas is a good guy, he likes to pretend like he’s all high and mighty, that he doesn’t give a fuck about what people have to say or what they think, but on the inside, he’s a really good guy.
He has feelings, he has emotions, he’s a fucking human.
Everyone makes mistakes.
“There’s more to this than just you wanting to apologize.”
He stares at me, like he’s trying to figure out what to say, or trying to figure out me. “I’m not really good at this whole ‘friends with girls’ thing, Claire I and were always more, and Steph is a friend, but we’re really not all that close.”
Call me dumb, but I’m really confused as to where this is going.
He can read that on my face.
“I want to be friends, Sasha, and I really can’t be friends with you if I don’t at least try to talk all this out and make it better.”
I sit with that for a minute.
He wants to make it better, even though —in my mind at least— everything had been resolved the second he said he was sorry.
Is that because I know the apology was genuine? Or because I’ve been taught to accept the apology and expect nothing more?
Thinking back to my friendship with Nathan, I realize that he never really offered me anything more than an apology. It was always half-baked, quick and quiet, and then we would move on.
The thought that people genuinely want to figure out problems and resolve them seems kind of… odd to me.
“Lu, we are friends. We’ve been friends since you gave me a beer on your porch step.
” I shove my plate to the side, offering him my hands and when he hesitates, I grab his and hold them tight.
“I’m still trying to figure out where I fit in this world, and how to handle everything that happened with my brother, but you guys have made my life infinitely better since I met you. ”
“So you aren’t mad?”
“Dude, you’re supposed to be the one who doesn’t care about other people’s feelings. We’re good, I promise.”
Lucas St. James is a weird dude.