Surviving Regret (5 page)

“Is anyone injured?”

“Yes… there’s a guy… on the hood. I think he’s dead. And Steven…”

“Steven what? Is he injured?”

“Yes,” I cry out, Madison squeezes her eyes shut when she sees Cash take his hoodie and shirt off and pushes it inside the car in between the door and Steven. “Steven… he’s bleeding out from his side I think.”

“Okay, you need to compress the wound, ma’am. Take a dry cloth and press it against the wound. I’ve dispatched aid vehicles. They’re five minutes out.” I yell out the orders to Cash, he yells back that he is already doing that. “If he bleeds through that, put another one on top of that. Don’t remove the first one. Just keep applying more and don’t move him.”

I tell Cash everything they’re saying and look to Landon, his hands are on the pavement as he kneels on the ground. He vomits again, maybe from the adrenaline rushing through him or maybe it’s the alcohol.

A car stops and asks us if we’re all okay. No one answers because we’ll never be okay again.

I start crying harder and I think the dispatcher knows this and tries to calm me. “Ma’am, stay calm. We’re sending help, please stay on the line with me.”

“Okay…” My voice trembles. In the distance, I hear the faint sirens and breathe a little easier.

Cash puts one arm around Alexa and whispers in her ear. She’s fighting him and I see his mouth moving, speaking in soothing tones, trying to talk to her but she’s not having it. He’s so calm and collected you’d think he’d been in an accident before like this. I fear the worst in that moment like everything is suspended in time and we’re waiting for the inevitable impact.

Steven is dying. I know it in my gut and I wish so damn much that it wasn’t true.

Landon is standing there hunched over just staring at the car, his eyes wide. He doesn’t know what to do. I want to go to him but I don’t.

What do I say? What do I do?

Madison lays her head on my shoulder and I feel the warmth of her blood soaking through my hoodie.

Cash shakes his head walking away from Alexa. He comes over and wraps his arms around Madison and me. I rest my head against his shoulder, suddenly it feels too heavy to hold up. Alexa screams, “Where are the police? Where are the fucking police?” so loud I flinch and I feel Madison jump, too.

An older couple comes over to us a few minutes later after Cash walks away. The woman is asking Madison and me questions but neither of us are answering. What’s the point? It’s not going to change the events of tonight. There is some guy sitting next to Landon in the middle of the street and there are a bunch of people around Alexa and Steven.

It’s too late…I want to scream but what’s it going to do? It won’t turn back the clock, lives have been irrevocably altered and utterly ruined.

The sirens from the cops, fire trucks, ambulances fill the quiet. There’s lights shining over the wrecked cars and it’s then that I see how bad the accident really is. It’s a miracle that the five of us made it out alive.

An EMT kneels so that he’s level with me. “Ma’am,” I look up, it’s all I can do. “Can you come with me, please, so that we can assess your injuries?”

I nod and attempt to get up. Madison grabs my hand, it’s a life line for us. “It’s alright, Madison.”

It’s a lie.

Nothing will ever be the same.

One moment changed everything forever.

What do you do once everything in your life changes?

You survive.

Chapter One

Three Years Later

September 18, 2013

Landon

A game.

The quarterback has a lot of choices and choices that are made on the field are rarely perfect.

So he decides which play to pick ‘cause he wants to make another touchdown. He wants to put the points on the board for the fans to see.

But when he makes that call to run the play he thinks is best, he will no longer have control over the outcome.

Those decisions will be made for him.

He will be part of something bigger than himself.

He will be relying on ten other players who have eaten, slept and breathed these plays for weeks. The team knows the plays better than their own dicks. Cash is amazing with the way he sees the whole field and fits the ball into tight quarters. He’s got a strong accurate arm, can get himself out of trouble, and has mobility and rare poise for a kid who’s only seventeen. I’ve never seen him lose his head on the field. Ever. And I doubt I ever will.

Then, the snap is called and everything is set in motion.

I take off sprinting down the field, outrunning my defender.

Everything is quiet. I hear nothing but my own breathing.

In the end zone, I turn at just the right second, and the ball lands perfectly in my hands.

I look down to my hands and smile. We did it again. We won another game making us state champions.

Cash comes running toward me as I throw the ball to the ref knowing damn well I’m going home with the game winning ball tonight. He leaps and I catch him mid-air, “We fucking did it again. We fucking did it, Landon!”

“Landon, man,” Colton kicks my hand that is hanging over the bed. “Your fucking alarm has been going off for twenty minutes.”

I glance over to Colton pulling on a pair of sweatpants, “Let’s go, man. We’re going to be late to strength training and if you’re late again Coach...” He stops talking midsentence.

Coach would bench my ass if I show up late again he doesn’t need to remind me of that.

Jumping from the comfort of my bed and into reality I grab a pair of sweats off the floor and pull them on. Who knows if they are even clean? Colton Myers is one of our tackles for the Oregon Ducks. He’s a cocky asshole but we get along well enough. Not like we really have a choice since we live together. He thinks we share a mutual hate for Cash but he couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ll never tell him that though, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him and I’m not about to spill my deep dark secrets to him anyway.

“Let’s go,” I say pulling a t-shirt over my head. It smells like sweat and dirt but I don’t have time to find something clean.
I really need to fucking do my laundry.

Twenty minutes later we meet up with the rest of the team in the state-of-the-art gym thanks to our proud sponsors. This is not exactly what I feel like doing this morning with a hangover but whatever. I’ll just sweat the alcohol out of my system and be ready to do it all over again tonight. It’s what I do to get by these days.

Colton spots me on the bench, he’s rambling on about meeting up with some girl tonight, I’m not really paying attention to him though. I rarely do. My attention is on the burn in my arms, it’s keeping the voices in my head quiet, at least for now. I hate those damn voices that never shut up.

“Are you going out with that girl again from the other night? What the hell was her name again?” Declan Collins, another of our tackles, asks.

Colton looks around before answering him, “Madison.”

The mention of Madison’s name catches my interest. I don’t stop pumping the weights up and down but I do listen.
What the hell is Madison doing with a guy like Colton?

Declan nods, “That’s right but wait…isn’t that Cash’s girl?”

Jet pipes up from the bench next to mine, “Who fucking cares, the girl fucks like an animal,” he throws his head back groaning, “and she sucks dick like you wouldn’t believe.”

I squeeze the bar a little tighter my knuckles turning white. Colton and Jet bump fists laughing. I want to say something, I should say something but I don’t. Cash isn’t my concern anymore and frankly neither is Madison even though she’s like a sister to me.

Everyone knows that Madison is screwing around behind Cash’s back but he either doesn’t seem to care or he hasn’t figured it out yet. Honestly, I think it’s that he’s avoiding reality. I know if I were in his shoes I’d be avoiding reality too. He was planning on proposing to her the night we won the state championship in high school. Until…

Saylor, who’s watching us in the mirror pipes up. “You guys need to be careful. Cash is right over there.”

Colton gives him a disgusted look. “Who the fuck cares, man? He’s a tool.”

Saylor laughs setting down the weights then turns to walk toward us. He’s a big guy, probably close to 250 and 6’4”. Removing his hat he runs his hands over his dark hair and then replaces it. “Yeah, Colton, he’s a tool that just so happened to save that game for us last week where you were tripping over your feet every other play and Jet here couldn’t make a catch to save his life.”

I want to laugh. I really do but I don’t. Instead I just keep lifting. The old me would have already started a fist fight for them talking shit on Cash.

“So set us straight then.” Jet pushes Saylor’s wide shoulder. “Is he just that dumb that his girl is fucking around and he doesn’t know?”

“I don’t know, man.” Saylor’s not giving up the details on his boy and I respect that about him. “That’s not my business.”

“Well, give us something here,” Colton says.
They’re like a bunch of fucking girls.
“Are they still fucking around with each other? I never see them together. I never see him with anyone. Dude’s probably gay.”

Saylor rolls his eyes and sits down at the bench beside me. “He’s not gay, assholes. He probably gets more pussy than the both of you combined. And he leaves at least once a week at 3 AM and I know for a fact he ain’t going to the gym. He’s with Madison.”

Jet and Colton don’t seem to give a shit and that doesn’t surprise me in the least. Madison is fucked up and this is what she is doing to cope.

I need to get the hell away from this conversation. I don’t need any more drama in my life. I create enough of it myself. With shaking arms I give one last push up and place the bar in the rack and lock it in place.

I reach for my water and towel, I shouldn’t say anything but I do, I just can’t hold back suddenly. They don’t seem to understand that Cash and Madison have a long history. I smile at Jet and Colton. “What’s entertaining is that you two act like she actually gives a shit about you, much less remembers your dicks the next day.” I shake my head.” She never will, trust me.” I walk away not even giving them a second glance or a chance to respond.

There is one treadmill open in the long row of them, it’s right next to Cash, unfortunately. I need the exercise though. I need the exhaustion so I step up on the machine. I place my water bottle in the holder and my towel on the hand railing. I feel Cash’s eyes on me so I turn my head in his direction. He stares coldly at me for a second before pushing the stop button and getting off the machine.

Nice.

We haven’t spoken in years. At least not off the field. I dig into my pocket and pull out my iPod and earbuds. Finding a fast, heavy song I crank it up and then turn the treadmill up as fast as it will go. I should start out slow but I don’t. I need to run the hell away from Cash, Macy, Madison, that night, everything. The voices keep following me though, no matter how fast I run, they are faster and louder than the music I use to drown them out.

After my afternoon practice I meet up with Jay Lucas in the quad just after nightfall. It’s a secluded part, dark and off the walkways so no one can see. Jay’s the drug dealer I’ve been buying from since freshman year. He is a tall lanky guy covered in tattoos from head to toe. He has these eyes that look right through you like you aren’t worth the same air he breathes. Jay is not someone you ever want to double cross.

Jay greets me with a nod, never meeting my eyes. Our greetings are minimal, less is always better, especially with him. “You got my stuff?”

Jay reaches into his pocket and pulls out the dime bag. It’s only enough for one joint. I can’t risk being caught with more on school grounds.

I slap the money in his hand and with my free one I take my weed. Jay and I give a curt nod and he’s off until he gets another text from me.

I put the weed in the front pocket of my jeans and turn toward my truck. I drive over to the stadium parking in the farthest spot in the lot and cut the engine. Campus Police know my truck since this is my usual parking place so they leave me alone. It doesn’t take me long before I have the joint in my hand, taking the first drag, and hold it in my lungs for as long as I can. Once I feel the burning, I slowly let it out as smoke fills the cab of my truck. I reach over to turn up the radio, the beats of “Am I Wrong”
by
Nico & Vinz flow through the speakers. I laugh, the song title fitting the setting.

Yeah, I am wrong but so fucking what.
I feel like my whole fucking life I’ve been wrong.

Reaching under the seat I pull out my bottle of whiskey. Unscrewing the top I put it to my lips and take a swig. The voices in my head quiet with every passing minute. Short lived, but I’ll take the solitude however the fuck I can get it.

I don’t hear Alexa screaming, “Steven!”

I don’t hear Macy saying, “Did you have sex with my sister?”

And I don’t hear Cash saying. “We will never be
bros
again.”

At least I won’t hear these things until tomorrow compliments of this bottle and this joint.

As I sit there with my head against the seat, I think of Macy. It’s where I should be right now instead of here, trying to numb pain that’s overwhelming me. I miss my girl. Well, she’s not really my girl. I’m not sure what we are anymore and most days I don’t care. That’s not really true but fuck that girl deserves so much better than me. I think that’s why I almost fucked Madison that night at prom. Madison is different in everything else but she looks like Macy. Madison doesn’t make me try to feel anything like Macy does. Madison and I share the same blame for that night and Macy doesn’t understand that. She can’t relate to what it feels like to kill your best friend. I shouldn’t have been hanging out of the sunroof, I shouldn’t have been smoking and drinking and carrying on. I wouldn’t have caused Steven to crash.