Exhale (14 page)

“Shh,” Tim hushed her as he pulled her into his arms tighter. “It’s okay.” His eyes glistened as he spoke and I had to look away.

“Come on,” my mom said softly as she ushered Derek’s parents down the hallway toward Kyle’s room. “Tell us what you want us to do. How can we help?”

I swallowed hard, hoping to erase the threatening burn of unwanted tears rising up my throat. It didn’t help. My limbs grew heavy as the mood of the room continued to seep into me, darkening my every thought and laboring my breathing. I glanced to Derek, his face seemed paler than usual and his eyes looked hollowed out. Biting the inside of my cheek, I stood and walked to where he sat picking at his cuticles. With my stomach hardening into large knots, I paused in front of him and extended a hand.  I had made a promise to myself that I would be there for him this time and I intended to keep it, no matter how hard it was going to be.

Derek lifted his head to look at me. I straightened my back and lifted my chin as I met his gaze dead on, my hand still extended in front of him. As soon as his hand slipped into mine, I exhaled the breath that I had been holding. He pushed himself up from the chair he’d sunk himself deeply into and we turned to follow our parents down the hall, hand in hand.

I had been in Kyle’s room a million times before, but it was different this time. It wasn’t the room that was unfamiliar to me, but the feelings that stirred within my stomach and the musky, sealed-off-for-too-long smell that assaulted my nose. I held tight to Derek’s hand, deciding that if I was to be allowed to feel the comfort that being in his presence inflicted upon me, there could be no better moment than now. My free hand cradled my quivering stomach as I glanced around at the room that seemed so foreign now.

Kyle’s bed was still unmade. The navy blue and white striped sheets crumpled and wrinkled from their last use. The faded, gray plaid comforter still flipped back as though it were waiting for Kyle to slip back beneath at any moment. Dirty socks and mildewed towels littered the floor. Beach babes and metal signs—some stolen and some bought—covered the dark blue walls. A half-eaten can of pizza-flavored Pringles stood beside a black beanbag that had been duct taped too many times to count in the center of the room, Kyle’s PlayStation controller resting on top.

Being surrounded by his things, it was almost too much. I didn’t know how long I stood there, clutching onto Derek’s hand and taking in the occupied room that waited for its tenant to return, but it was long enough for Derek to squeeze my hand in his and ask if I was okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” A complete and total lie, but I was supposed to be the one who was here to console him, not the opposite.

I dropped Derek’s hand and flashed him a small smile, before scooping up a cardboard box and heading over toward Kyle’s rickety TV stand in the corner. I sat in front of it and tucked my legs beneath me, but I didn’t reach for anything right away. I couldn’t. This entire concept made me sick to my stomach, even though I knew it was something that had to be done no matter how much time had passed. His things couldn’t stay here forever.

“Katie, if you want any of those games please don’t hesitate or think you have to ask before you take them. Tim and I have already decided the ones that you and Derek don’t want, we’re going to donate,” Darlene said between tiny sniffles. I didn’t understand how she could be so brave and not be crying profusely while boxing up her dead son’s things.

“Thanks,” I said, even though I knew I wouldn’t be taking anything.

“Derek, you should probably go ahead and take the PlayStation to your room,” Tim said as he carefully took down another poster from Kyle’s wall.

Derek didn’t answer his dad, but he was crouched down beside me an instant later, struggling to unhook the cables for it from behind the TV. I shifted out of his way and folded the cables as he unhooked them and draped them across the top of the system. He picked it up and carried it off to his room without a word.

I began stacking games into the cardboard box meticulously, making sure that each spine faced upward so that if Derek decided he wanted to go through them, then the titles were clearly visible.  When I lifted up the game case that rested beside the TV—which I assumed was from the last game Kyle played—a black, green, and dark blue braided bracelet caught my eye. I picked it up carefully and draped it across the palm of my hand as I stared at it, remembering exactly when I had given it to Kyle.  The day after my tenth birthday. Kyle had bought me a friendship bracelet kit and to thank him, I’d made him one. He’d made such a big fuss saying that he would never wear something so girly. I’d argued that it wasn’t girly; it was made with boy colors. Kyle’s crooked grin from that moment flashed through my mind as the memory played in my head like a movie clip. To know that he’d kept it all these years made me smile. I clasped it on my wrist and took the empty case to Derek’s room to get the game Kyle had been playing last out of the system.

Derek was sitting at the edge of his bed when I entered the room, the PlayStation beside him. His head rested in his hands, but he glanced up the moment I crossed the threshold of his room.

“Sorry, I just thought I’d get the game out and put it in its case,” I said, feeling like I was interrupting him somehow. “I can get it later, though, it’s no big deal.”

“It’s fine.” His hands slipped down the sides of his face, the scratchiness of his stubble the only sound in the room. “Get it.”

I didn’t argue that it could wait. I didn’t hurry from the room like I had wanted to. Instead, I stayed like my heart told me to, because that’s what friends do—they stay by your side when you need them the most.

“Are you okay?” A stupid question considering. Who in their right mind would be okay with packing up a loved one’s possessions after they’d died a tragic death? “Of course you’re not okay. I mean, what are you thinking about?” I asked as I crossed the room and sat down beside him.

He let out a long breath. “Everything.”

“Like?” I prompted, hoping I wasn’t pressing too hard and completely unsure I truly wanted to know.

He looked at me, the green of his eyes growing darker as though controlled by his emotions. “You really want to know?”

“Yeah,” I lied, hoping he couldn’t see through it and praying I could handle whatever it was he was about to say without crying.

“I’m thinking about how I don’t want Kyle’s PlayStation because I know I’ll never play it, but when my parents tell me I should, it seems wrong not to take it. I feel like it’s just another way for them to try and squish who my brother was inside of me, to try to force bits of him in so that I don’t just look like him, I am him. I’m me and him at the same time. And that way he’ll never be completely gone for them.” He sighed heavily, his head falling back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m thinking about how I don’t want to go back into that room because cleaning it out solidifies that Kyle is never coming back, no matter how badly I want him to. I’m scared that his empty bedroom will erase him, that the only time I‘ll remember him is when I look in the mirror.” He sniffled and blew out another puff of air as his hands came up and intertwined within his hair. “I’m thinking about what you’re doing here, why you’re helping, and why you’re listening to me right now?”

“I’m here because I care about you,” I said. “Because we’re friends.”

He scoffed at the word friends as his eyes turned cold. “Friends, yeah.  And that’s all you’ll ever let us be, right?”

I bit the inside of my cheek as my fingers traced over the seam of the game case I held. “I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“He would want you to be happy and for me to be happy too, don’t you think?” Derek asked, and I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a rhetorical question or not, so instead of speaking, I simply nodded my head yes slightly. “And if the two of us together is what makes us happy, then don’t you think he’d be okay with that, especially now?”

My eyes locked on the friendship bracelet I had found in Kyle’s room. I ran a finger along an area where the string had frayed as I contemplated Derek’s words. This was why I had stayed away, because I knew Derek, I knew that he would find a way to twist this situation so that I wouldn’t feel the way that I did. What he had just said made perfect sense, but if I had heard it shortly after Kyle’s death, I knew I wouldn’t have believed it the way that I did now. 

“Well, I do,” Derek muttered, not waiting any longer for me to answer as he stood and left the room before I could think of something to say, before I could tell him that he’d said what I had needed to hear.

We finished clearing out Kyle’s bedroom around 9:00 p.m. Derek avoided me like the plague, obviously mistaking my silence from earlier for something that it wasn’t. Maybe it was partially my fault because I didn’t correct him or tell him how true his statement had seemed, but once the moment had passed, I didn’t know how to bring it up again.

I went to bed that night with Kyle’s bracelet still attached to my wrist and Derek’s words still replaying through my mind. He’d been right.  Maybe it had taken this much time to pass for me to see it, but Kyle really would want the both of us to be happy. And if our being together made us each happy enough to erase the dark cloud that had been ever present above our heads since the night of Kyle’s death, then so be it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The next morning had all the makings of a disaster—I woke up late, my throat hurt, it was freezing outside, and my car made this odd sputtering sound upon starting. It was apparent that the dark cloud I had envisioned erasing last night was in full force and making its presence known today.

I pulled into the first available parking spot I saw, praying that the time on my dash clock was fast because if not, I only had about three minutes to get from the parking lot to class, which was on the second floor of the main building and nearly impossible to reach in that amount of time. Cutting the engine, I slung my messenger bag across my shoulder and bolted across the lot. By the time I made it to the double doors of the main building, my thighs were burning, my face felt wind-burnt, and my nose was gushing snot. I rushed down the hallway, bypassing all the stragglers, and was just at the door about to dart inside when the bell rang and Mrs. Pangle was already closing the door for homeroom.

“Come on in, Miss. Elliott. I’m in a giving mood today,” she said, opening the door slightly for me to slip through.

“Thank you,” I said, wiping the snot from my nose onto my coat sleeve, so thankful she’d taken pity on me because my legs were on fire from speed walking all the way and all I wanted to do was sit down.

“Dang, look what the cat drug in.” Missy grinned as I slid into my desk beside her.

“Funny,” I sneered.

“Seriously though, you look rough.”

I grabbed a lemon-flavored throat lozenge from inside my coat pocket and popped in my mouth. “Well, I feel rough.”

“I hope you’re feeling better by Friday.” Missy frowned.

“Friday, what’s Friday?” I asked, picking my nose with a tissue and not caring who saw. I knew we didn’t have school Friday because of Thanksgiving break this week, but I couldn’t remember making any plans with Missy.

“Brody’s house,
hello
,” she said like I was stupid, then raised her hand and answered Mrs. Pangle when her name was called for roll.

Brody’s house
. How could I have forgotten? “Is everyone still doing that this year?”

Since our sophomore year, when we could drive ourselves, all of our friends got together at Brody’s house the Friday night during Thanksgiving break, because come Friday night, after three solid days of being crammed around family, all of us were ready for some downtime and some actual fun. It had been Kyle’s idea and he’d decided Brody’s basement was the perfect place for it considering its amenities. Everyone had agreed and so a tradition had been born.

“Yeah,” Missy whispered, trying not to interrupt Mrs. Pangle’s roll call. “I talked to Brody last night. He said this year, he had something special planned so all of us have to come.”

My chest tightened as I thought of what he could be planning. I hoped it was something in honor of Kyle, preferably something Kyle would have approved of, which meant anything involving alcohol, girls, and fun.

“Cool.  Even if I don’t feel better by then, I’ll still come,” I promised. “Wait a minute, when did you start talking to Brody?”

Missy’s lips spread into a wide grin. “I was wondering when you were gonna say something.”

I raised my hand when Mrs. Pangle called my name, my eyes never leaving Missy’s as I waited for her answer.

“Yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that…” she said in a singsong voice.

My stomach hardened. Normally she was very forward and told me the instant a new crush was formed.  This time she didn’t. “Oh, awesome. Are you guys hooking up or something now?”

It felt strange having to ask. When had this distance grown between us?

“It’s only been a week. Right now we’re just talking, but I really hope so.” Missy’s face grew serious. “I really like him.”

I didn’t know which shocked me more—the fact that Missy hadn’t told me about a budding new crush right away, or the fact that she was actually being serious about the guy. Normally guys were disposable to her. In all of the years I’d known her, I’d never seen her have an actual boyfriend for more than three days at a time.