39. Raina
39
RAINA
W ith a sad sigh, I tossed my phone aside and rubbed my eyes; I d grown tired of reading through all the job ad listings in Galveston.
Slumped on the captain s couch, I pulled a pillow into my lap and hugged it to my chest. I had no idea what to do with my life anymore.
Technically, I was supposed to be healing , but other than still getting exhausted easily, I felt like everything was going okay. I d learned how to walk and read again. I was even cleared to drive. My headaches rarely came at all. I had no hallucinations; my physical therapists said I was doing awesome; and the grief counselor the captain had hooked me up with also seemed impressed with the strides I d made.
Plus I was itching to get out and actually do something again.
I just didn t know what to do.
The captain suggested that I enroll in some classes in town, but…
College didn t sound worthwhile to me unless I was going to return to HaveU. So I figured I d just enter the workforce and try to find a permanent job. Except every listing sounded so bleh that it made this stupid restlessness inside me grow thicker.
When my phone jangled with an incoming text, I snatched it up, only to heave out a disappointed breath.
It was just the captain, telling me he was going to be late again.
Which meant I was going to spend another night home alone, probably eating microwavable mac and cheese with some Flamin Hot Cheetos for supper in front of the television, while watching the newest episode of We Were the Lucky Ones .
I jotted off a quick reply to the captain, letting him know I d gotten his message and that I loved him. I was about to toss the phone back to the side, but instead, I bit my lip and paused before opening the messages Foster and I had sent back and forth in the last few weeks.
It d been five days since we last corresponded. He d let me know that he d received the key to his new apartment, and he thanked me for sending it.
My stupid response had simply been:
You re welcome.
Ugh. What was wrong with me?
Why did I crave more from him, only to act like an antisocial nincompoop when he finally reached out?
Running my finger over the last words he d written, I tried to think up something to write to him now. But what? We d gotten everything sorted between us with the apartment issue, and I still remembered nothing from my coma days that I could mention or ask him about. I miss you seemed completely inappropriate since I d spent a total of one afternoon with the guy.
But I think I really did miss him.
I should just say something. Anything. He d always been extremely responsive when I d texted before.
What if he was busy with some other girl, though?
Damn. It was a Friday evening, and he was an extremely hot, star athlete. He d probably been with a dozen other women since me.
So what if he d told me he d fallen for me during my coma; that had been weeks ago, and I d reciprocated those feelings to him, like, not at all . Of course, he d moved on.
Acid filled my stomach just thinking about him doing with some other girl what he d done with me. And I started to type out a message before I could stop myself.
How s the moving going?
There. That sounded good. I pressed send and held my breath, hoping I hadn t just made a complete ass of myself.
But three little dots appeared almost immediately, and I shuddered out a giddy breath, eager to see what his answer would be.
I m actually unpacking the last few boxes now.
Seconds later, an image popped up of my front room, decorated differently than how I d had it. He had a lot of Haverick s yellow and brown school colors in there, and he d even rearranged the furniture that had come with the place.
I wrote back immediately.
Oh my goodness! There s so much boy stuff in my living room.
He replied with a laughing emoji, only to start writing something else. Another second later, his text popped up.
Just say the word, and I ll clear it out so you can move back in.
Heaviness filled my chest with his good-natured teasing. Did I want to go back to Westport? I didn t feel satisfied and fulfilled here anymore, but that didn t mean anything would be better there.
Foster must ve known he d touched on a sore point because he immediately changed the subject.
How s the recovery going?
Fine,
I answered lamely.
I think. Physically, everything seems just about completely normal again, but emotionally… I don t know.
As soon as I pushed send, I wished I could delete the whole message. Seriously, though, why the hell had I told him that? The best way to freak a guy out and scare him off was to tell him how unstable you were feeling.
Except Foster answered in moments.
Strange how the physical recovery goes faster than the emotional one, isn t it? Seems like it should be the other way around. Do you need to talk anything out? I could call.
Dear Lord, but Foster Union had to be the sweetest guy on the planet. I swear.
My pulse spiked with excitement. I wanted to talk to him more than I wanted my next breath. I wanted to hear his voice and, oh God, his laugh . But for some reason, I wrote back,
No. I m okay. But thanks for the offer. You re too nice.
Why, oh, why had I told him that?
I fisted my hands up by my head and clenched my teeth, calling myself every stupid name in the book.
But honestly, he probably only made the offer to be nice. He didn t really want to talk about pretty much nothing with me until the wee hours of the morning. And I didn t want to put him through that kind of headache.
Sure thing,
he told me.
But I m here all night if you change your mind.
Thank you.
And with that, he left me alone.
More depressed than I d been before I d started texting him, I tossed my phone down and dragged myself from the couch to head toward the kitchen for that mac and cheese.
I was halfway through my show when Foster texted again, sending me a picture of an eye shadow palette to tell me he d found it in the back of a drawer in the bathroom. When he asked if I wanted it mailed to me, I told him to just throw it away. I d never worn those shades anyway.
Just throw it away seemed like my life motto at the moment. Kind of felt like that was what I was doing with myself now that I d gotten a second chance to live. I was just throwing everything away: my future, my education, my happiness.
I have a life wish .
Kinsey s words echoed through me, and depression claimed me. I was letting her down. And I didn t know how to stop. I swear, I didn t know how to do anything anymore.
Shutting off the television, I left the front room so I could curl up on my childhood bed, prepared to cry myself to sleep as per my usual.
Except tonight, the tears wouldn t come.
Restless and depressed, and just desperate for something, I called Foster.
He picked up on the second ring with a cheerful, Hey! What s up? And his voice…
I don t know what it was about his voice, but it sounded like home.
Closing my eyes against the misery that filled my chest, I drew in a breath before answering, You said you fell in love with me.
It sounded rather sharp and accusative, so he paused before carefully coming back with, Uh…yes. I did. He drew out the words, obviously lost about what I was really trying to ask him.
And then you never said anything about it again, I finally went on. So… Did you change your mind?
What? No ! God, no. I still feel the same. I just—Damn, Raina. You didn t act very happy to hear it the first time; I was trying not to bother you with it. But… If you want to talk about it…
No. I— Realizing I had no idea what I wanted, I squeezed my eyes shut and sobbed out a sound of defeat. I don t know what I want, I admitted, sniffing miserably. I m just so freaking confused. Nothing makes sense anymore. I don t know what to do with my life. What to do about you. And I just—I need something to make sense.
Okay. Foster blew out a long breath before softly telling me, Yeah. I get that. And I think that was why I dropped the subject and let it lie. I know you have a lot on your plate and a lot to work through. But none of that changes how I feel. I love you, Raina. That s indefinite.
God. It was so jarring to hear him say it that simply and easily. It didn t seem as if it could be real.
And you don t expect anything? I asked, still confused. I just— Shaking my head, I pressed a hand to my temple. I m just not sure what I m supposed to do with this?
You don t have to do anything with it, he assured gently. I know I m a stranger to you. I know you can t possibly feel what I do. I know—okay, so it reminds me of my football fans, he said, abruptly switching his train of thought to try and explain. When a complete stranger calls out, telling me they love me and saying good game , I smile and appreciate their adoration. I don t devote the rest of my life to that person. I don t owe them anything, just like you don t owe me anything. All you have to do is smile, knowing that someone out there thinks you re pretty amazing. Okay? No pressure.
I frowned, not sure if I liked that answer. But what about you?
He laughed softly. Darlin , don t even worry about me. I m fine. I ll be happiest when I know you re happy. And right now, it seems as if you need some time to yourself to figure out your new normal and what makes you happy.
And if I realize you re what makes me happy? I asked.
God, I hope I am, he said with a smile in his voice. But I need you to learn that for yourself. And I m going to give you the space to do it. In the meantime, I m just over here, holding down the fort, still loving you and waiting for you to find yourself again. Does that answer whatever questions you have regarding us?
I… With a cringe, I nodded. Yes. Whatever is between us definitely makes more sense to me now. Thank you for that. But I still wish I knew what the hell I was supposed to do about everything else in my life.
Foster s chuckle spilled through the receiver. You ll figure it out, he assured. But maybe not tonight. It s getting late. I recommend sleep. Things always look clearer in the morning.
I made a face but answered, Yeah, probably.
You ll get through this, he added. Life changes too much for you to stay stuck like this for long.
True. Heaving out a breath, I yawned and closed my eyes, already starting to drift off. His assurance had released so much of my stress, it left me plumb exhausted. Thank you, Foster. Good night.
Night, Raina, he murmured. I love you.
* * *
When I opened my eyes again, I was on a beach. Cheek pressed against warm sand, I sputtered and rolled onto my back, wiping the grit away before I sat upright to peer through the darkness surrounding me.
Where am I? I asked aloud, as I slowly pushed my way to my feet.
In front of me, water rippled and frothed, surging toward the shore and trying to make landfall, only to recede away again, unsuccessful. When I glanced behind me, a row of beach cottages lined the edge of the sand with a night lamp blaring from one place down the way.
It seemed so eerily familiar that I blinked and shook my head, wondering where I d seen this very view before.
I took a step toward the lightened house, only to glance down at my bare feet when sand squished between my toes. And there, I realized I was wearing a black-topped jumpsuit with multi-colored shorts and a belt to match. The same outfit I d been in the night Kinsey had died.
The night my life had changed forever.
A cold finger of dread crawled up the back of my neck. I hugged myself and started to breathe a little harder until I heard a distant voice shout my name.
Raina. Over here! Hey, Raina!
I spun to the water and saw a figure wading in the surf. When it lifted its hand to wave, I waved back, grateful to find someone who knew me.
I hurried that way.
The closer I drew, the more my brow furrowed in confusion, though.
He was just a kid, some blond-headed boy who couldn t be over seven or eight years old. And when he smiled at me, there was a gap where he d lost a tooth.
I finally made it back through! he greeted with a flourish, opening both arms as if to display himself cheerfully. Can you believe it? The pathway grew all murky and cloudy after you woke up from your coma, but I never gave up.
I… Squinting at him, I cringed before hesitantly asking, Do I know you?
His mouth dropped open. Are you serious? he countered, looking hurt. You don t remember me?
I m sorry, I immediately gushed, hoping he didn t cry. I—I—I ve forgotten a lot of things lately, it seems.
Oh. His shoulders fell as if that made sense. Then, he nodded thoughtfully. I suppose that was a possibility after you woke up. It explains why it was so hard for me to get through to you. But as long as you remember Foster, it s okay.
When I immediately winced, the boy widened his eyes and cried, You don t remember Foster ?
I mean, I know who he is, I rushed to say. And I was told my spirit was, like, tethered to him, or something, while I was in my coma, but I don t remember any of it.
But… He blinked at me as if he didn t understand what I was telling him. You have to remember that part, he said hollowly. That s the most important part.
How do you know Foster? I asked, shaking my head.
The boy pulled back in surprise. I m his brother, of course. I m Hayes , the one who died when he was nine.
I swear my heart stopped cold in my chest. You re…dead? Taking a step back, I pressed a hand to my heart, trying to breathe normally again. What re you doing here, then? Why am I with you? Does this mean I m dead?
What? No ! Hayes waved his hands as if my question was ludicrous. But then he gripped his head and grimaced. Well, I guess you did die two or three times there. You kept flatlining at the hospital after your accident. And that s what created the pathway, where I could get through to you. And visit.
Puffing up his chest with some self-importance, he splayed a hand over himself. I m a guide, you see. I help newcomers cross over. With a quick shrug, he added, That way, I can sneak back and check in on my family every now and then, make sure they re doing okay, you know.
I nodded, following along with his explanation. That s…neat.
Yeah. He nodded with a ready smile that struck me as oddly familiar until I realized it was Foster s smile. Anyway, the first time you came to me, I sent you back. To Foster. I didn t actually mean to tether you to him, but… He made a face. I m still working out all the kinks of everything I can do.
It s okay, I assured him.
He shook his head, however. No. It s not. Because he became attached to you in return. Emotionally. And I m sure it broke his heart when you left. So you gotta go back, Raina. He loves you so much. You can t just hurt him like this.
I shook my head, overwhelmed by his insistence. Chest filled with dread, I rasped, But I don t remember any of our time together. I can t just—it seems to hurt him more when I m there and look at him like he s a stranger. I m not…where he is in the relationship anymore.
Hayes scowled briefly as if he wanted to argue with me, but then he said, So if you remembered—if you remembered why you loved him too, you d go back?
I… Unsure how to answer because what if I hadn t loved Foster, I only shrugged. I have no idea.
The blond boy was undeterred. I can help you, he assured with a firm nod as he stepped toward me. I was able to sort through the pathway back into your dreams; I can untangle the mess in your memories so you can remember correctly again. I just know it.
Well, I mean… I lifted one shoulder. If you think you can help me, then by all means.
When I splayed out a hand in acceptance, his eyes brightened. Really? You ll let me try?
Sure. But when he started toward me, I pulled back. It won t hurt, will it?
Did it hurt when I found my way into your dreams?
I shook my head. No.
With a more assured nod, he announced, Then this shouldn t either. Could you kneel down here so I can reach your head?
Oh! Uh… This already felt more invasive than him plowing his way into my dreams. He hadn t had to touch me then. But I knelt down anyway, hoping it worked. I guess.
Once my knees were in the sand and Hayes and I were more eye-to-eye with each other, he smiled at me, and I shook my head in wonder.
You look so much like him.
Thank you. He nodded regally at the compliment. Now, hold still. Then he reached out with young hands and gently cradled the sides of my head in his palms.
The only thing I felt was a pleasant warmth.
Oh yeah, he murmured with a relishing nod as his smile spread. I can work with this. Close your eyes, Miss Raina. And when you open them again, you ll remember everything from your coma. Then he paused with a wince. But maybe even the actual wreck, too. Are you okay with that?
I nodded. Yes. I want to see it all.
Alright, then, he told me. Open your eyes.
I did and found myself staring up at the ceiling of my childhood bedroom. Morning light crept in through the window, and the ceiling fan overhead swept around in a lazy circle, with a handful of glow-in-the-dark stars I d pasted on its fan blades when I was a kid.
Sitting up slowly, I blinked, remembering the roof of a beach house I d gotten stranded on and then Foster arriving through the darkness to walk me inside. I recalled running from the owners the next morning, breaking into the hospital together, hanging out in his bedroom, snuggling close each night, delivering pizzas, attending classes, visiting his friends, and…
The shower.
Oh my God, I breathed.
I could remember everything .