Friends Forever (30 page)

All they knew was that a wonderful boy had died. He had taken his life, and they would never see him again. It was the cruelest of destiny’s tricks, the death of a young person. The death of a child—worse, an only child. Izzie thought her heart would explode in a million pieces, and her head along with it. She couldn’t even think. She sat between her father and Jennifer and felt as though her life were over. She couldn’t even tell Sean because no one knew where he was. She hated him for being unreachable and for what he was doing. And when it was all over, she stood on the cathedral steps and watched the casket being put into the hearse. She had seen it too often. She didn’t even go to the Westons’ house afterward, she just couldn’t. She didn’t want to see anyone, not even the Westons, especially not the Westons, with their shock and grief. Her father wanted her to come home with them, but she wouldn’t. She wanted to go back to her apartment and be alone. Jeff and Jennifer left her there reluctantly, terrified that it would be too much for her, that she was at risk now too. But she insisted that she wasn’t and reassured them.

She sat in her apartment alone that night, going through old
photographs, and stared at one of Andy. He had been such a beautiful kid, and a great friend. She had talked to him on the morning of the day he did it, and they had told each other they loved each other. They always did.

When the phone rang that night, it was Tony. He wanted to invite her to dinner. He had no idea what had happened. He had seen the item on the front page of the paper, but he had had no way of knowing that the boy who had committed suicide, from a prominent family of physicians, had been her best friend.

“How about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked her, pleased to hear her voice. She sounded a little strange, and he wondered if he had woken her up. She said he hadn’t.

“I can’t,” she said in a dead voice.

“What about Tuesday? Wednesday I have to go to L.A., but I’ll be back on Friday, if you like that better.” He was anxious to see her.

“I can’t. My best friend just died. I think I’m going away.” She hadn’t thought of it before, but she liked the idea. Maybe forever.

“I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“He killed himself.” She didn’t offer the details, and then he understood.

“I saw it in the paper. I’m sorry, Izzie. Do you want me to come over?”

“No, but thank you. I’m okay. I just need to think about it.” That didn’t sound like a good idea to him.

“Are you sure? Let’s do dinner next weekend, when I get back from L.A.”

“No, I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” she said
in a quiet voice, but she knew what she was saying. “I had fun with you. But I don’t think I can do this. Someone always gets hurt. I don’t want it to be me.” She knew instinctively that she needed to be with people she loved and who loved her, in order to heal. And Tony was never going to be that person. He could offer her fun but nothing else. He didn’t have it to give. He was still running away from his own grief. “I think we need to let this go, before we start it.” He was shocked when she said it, but he didn’t disagree. He could hear that she meant it, and he didn’t have anything more to offer her than he had given, a nice dinner, lunch in Napa, and the opening of the ballet. His own heart had been sealed off years before, for the same reasons. He couldn’t help her. And Izzie didn’t want to end up like him. Slick and superficial, however nice he appeared to be.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” she said seriously.

“No worries. Call me if you ever want to play.” She didn’t. That was the difference between them. He wanted to play so he didn’t have to feel. Izzie couldn’t do that. She was feeling everything and wished that she didn’t, but maybe it was better this way. She felt like Andy had been ripped right through her soul and left a hole in it the size of her head, just like the others. She was so full of holes now, she felt like a Swiss cheese. After Tony hung up, she looked in the mirror and tried to figure out what to do.

She asked for a week off from work, and she walked all over San Francisco, thinking. She didn’t know where to go, where to be, or even how to be anymore. She went to see Helen Weston and told her how sorry she was, and she met Nancy, before she went
back to Boston. And she understood why Andy had loved her. They even looked like each other. Tall, slim, aristocratic blondes with fine features. They would have had gorgeous children, Izzie thought to herself. And she and Nancy hugged when Izzie left her.

She went to see Connie again and saw the strain in her eyes from worrying about Sean. She was helping Mike now, but Sean should have been doing it, instead of chasing bad guys and risking his own life. It made no sense to Izzie, and didn’t sound noble to her. It seemed wrong that his parents had to live in constant terror that he’d be killed, and so did she, even as his friend.

She went for a long walk with Jennifer, and they talked about all of it. All Izzie knew now was that she wanted to go away. She couldn’t leave until June, the end of the school year. She was stuck in San Francisco until then, except for spring break. And then she remembered the trip to Argentina, and how healing that had been. It had kick-started her life again.

She decided to go to Japan over spring break, and she could figure out the rest of her life later. But she was certain that she needed to get away. From everything. Maybe for a year after that, and then she could go to graduate school, but she couldn’t stay here mourning her friends forever. No one was left now except her and Sean, and he was dead to her too, or might as well have been, since she could only talk to him for one week a year. What kind of life was that, and what kind of friend?

She went back to work, and Wendy told her how sorry she was. She knew Andy’s mother and had gone to the funeral too. Izzie hadn’t noticed anyone there, just Andy in his casket, and his father
standing up in front of everyone, saying he had thought it could never happen to him. It had happened to all of them, the entire community, and was a failure on the part of the community to save him, and for creating a world where young people who had everything going for them would rather die than live. It was a mystery that no one seemed to be able to solve, but it was happening too often to too many, and it had happened to Andy, another casualty of his generation, and of the pressure he and his parents had put on him to always be perfect. Just like Larry’s pressure on Billy to be a big football star. In some ways, the expectations had been too much for them. They all had to exceed everyone’s wishes for them, or at least live up to them, even if it killed them.

Izzie planned her trip to Japan in April, and she was going to pay for it herself this time. She wanted to visit the countryside, and go to the shrines in Kyoto. She didn’t have to renew her contract for school until May, and she was giving herself until then to decide what she wanted to do. She hoped to figure it out while she was in Japan. She needed to see something new, and wanted to start her life over. Nothing about what she’d done so far felt right to her anymore. And she had no idea what would.

She had dinner with her father and Jennifer the night before she left. She looked serious and quiet, and her father was worried about her, but Jennifer said she was going to be okay. She was doing all the right things, and the trip to Japan was a good sign. She was reaching out for life, although there was no denying that Andy’s death had been a terrible blow, yet again. It was a final loss of innocence for her and all his friends, the denial of hope.

She dyed Easter eggs with the kindergarten on the last day of school, and she had had fun with them. She took a cab to the airport to leave on her trip. She checked in, had her boarding pass and her passport in her hand, she had only brought carry-on, and was buying magazines for the flight when her BlackBerry rang. It was Connie, and she sounded breathless.

“Thank God. I thought you were gone.”

“I almost am. My plane leaves in an hour. Why?”

Connie didn’t waste any time. “Sean’s been shot.” Izzie closed her eyes and felt the terminal spin around her. “He’s alive. Barely. He took two bullets in the chest and three in the leg. And don’t ask me how, but he crawled out through the jungle somehow, and sent some kind of signal. They picked him up in a clandestine operation a week later. They’re flying him from Bogotá to Jackson Memorial in Miami tonight. Mike and I are flying out on the red-eye. I thought you might want to be there when he gets to the hospital in Miami.” She assumed Izzie would.

“Why?” Izzie asked her, and Connie sounded shocked by the question.

“Because you love him and he’s your friend. You two have always been there for each other, and you’re the only one left.”

“He’s not there for me, Connie,” Izzie said coldly, “or for you either, or his father. He’s obsessed with killing drug dealers because of Billy and Kevin, but he was obsessed with that before them. He wanted to catch bad guys when he was five years old. Meanwhile he breaks all of our hearts. And next time they’ll kill him.”

“I don’t think he’ll go back after this,” Connie said quietly. “It sounds like he was very badly injured, and he barely got out.” She was stunned by Izzie’s reaction and the harshness of what she’d said.

“He’ll go back,” Izzie said with conviction. “As soon as he can crawl, he’ll go back, and you won’t know where he is or if he’s dead or alive for another year. I don’t want to play that game anymore. It hurts too much.” She was trying to get free of it now, even if it meant getting free of him.

“I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to know.”

“I do. I love you, Connie, and I love him. But I think what he’s doing is wrong, for all of us, and especially for him. And I don’t want him breaking my heart all over again when he dies, and he will. We’ll be going to his funeral next. I’m glad he’s okay this time, but one of these days he won’t be. I have to stop hanging on to it, or it’s going to kill me. Give him my love. I’m going to Japan.”

“Take care of yourself,” Connie said sadly, and hung up.

Izzie paid for her magazines and sat down in the terminal, waiting for her flight to board. She felt sick. All she could think about was the condition Sean must be in, and how he had crawled through the jungle for a week, with five bullet holes in him. She didn’t know why he didn’t die, but next time he might, or the time after. He was addicted to what he was doing, beyond reason, and it cost her too much. She had meant what she had said to his mother. She wasn’t even sure she ever wanted to see him again. It was too heartbreaking. They called her flight, and she stood on line to board.

She walked into the gangway behind the others for the flight to
Tokyo, and then she stopped before she got on the plane. She couldn’t do it. She hated him for it. He had no right to do this to her, even as a friend. She turned around and walked back through the gangway and into the terminal again. She stood there for a long moment, trying to make sense of it, but she couldn’t. She walked through the terminal, and bought a ticket for Miami, hating Sean for what he did to all of them.

I
zzie landed in Miami before his parents did, and she was at the hospital when they arrived. Connie looked at Izzie gratefully, and was relieved to see her there. A doctor explained that Sean had just been flown in and was in intensive care. They could see him for a few minutes but not for long.

His parents went in to see him first, and Izzie went in alone after them, and was shocked by what she saw. He looked ravaged, his chest was heavily bandaged, he had tubes coming out of everywhere, and his leg had drains in it and pins from where the bone had shattered when he’d been shot. Izzie couldn’t imagine how he had crawled out of the jungle and survived it. He looked twenty years older than he was, but he was alive. His eyes were half closed, but he opened them when he saw her, and he seemed surprised.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her, and gently reached for her hand resting on his bed. She couldn’t help herself, and stroked his cheek and then his hair.

“I had nothing better to do, so I thought I’d come to Miami and drop by. It looks like you made quite a mess of yourself, Bozo,” she said, pointing to his chest and his leg. He started to laugh, but it hurt too much.

“Yeah, whatever. You should see what the other guy looks like,” he whispered. He didn’t tell her, but he had killed six of them when he left. They had assumed he was dead, and still didn’t know he was alive. The FBI was going to have to change his identity for his next assignment.

“You going back?” she whispered back to him. He hesitated, and then he nodded. She wasn’t surprised. She had told his mother that he would. “I figured. You’re a crazy bastard, Sean O’Hara. And that’s not a compliment, but I’m glad you’re alive. Your parents don’t deserve to lose another son.” The only one they had left. But she was happy for herself too. It was good to see him, even the way he looked. She didn’t tell him about Andy. He was still too sick to know. It would be a hard blow for him too. And for her—the day Sean eventually died, and she knew he would, it would be too much for her. She was already bracing herself for it, particularly knowing he was going back. He had an obsession, and a death wish no one could stop, and she was smart enough not to try.

He closed his eyes then, and drifted off to sleep. He was heavily sedated, but in spite of it, he still made sense, and had been happy to see her. She saw him again the next morning and talked to him for a few minutes, and then she left. She flew back to San Francisco, and decided to postpone her trip to Japan. She had already lost two days of it, and she could go another time.

She let her father know she was back, and she spent the rest of
the spring break taking long walks and doing quiet things. She was thinking of what she’d seen in Miami. And two weeks later, once she was back at work, Connie called to say they were home. Sean was still in the hospital, and she said he would be there for a while. He had had some complications with the bullet wounds, but she said that ultimately he’d be fine.
If you can call it that
, Izzie thought to herself.