“I didn’t think you would. I know Keith feels like shit for it. Feels responsible.”
I toyed with the cap on my soda. “But is he responsible? I mean, his parents knew about the parties there. We all know that. They never had a problem with it. But they didn’t make anyone drive drunk.” I stopped, wondering why I was saying any of this. Probably trying to make myself feel better. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just thinking out loud.”
Truth was, a month ago I never would’ve even thought about any of this. Going to parties, having a drink or two and leaving—it was just the norm. I never thought this would happen, and I knew how stupid that sounded. How incredibly naive that belief was. How ultimately tragic.
Sebastian didn’t respond for a long moment, so I looked over at him. He was staring up at the dark night sky blanketed with stars. “You know what I think?”
“What?” I whispered, almost afraid to know.
He tipped his head in my direction. “I think all of us are responsible.”
Turning my head toward him, I stilled and was unable to look away.
“It’s just something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I went to that party. I drank and I planned on driving you home. Didn’t cross my mind that I would be putting you in danger—putting myself in danger.”
“You didn’t get drunk, though,” I pointed out. “I’ve never seen you get legit drunk and then try to drive.”
“I haven’t, but is there really a difference?” he asked. “Two beers? Three? Just because I think I’m fine and I act right doesn’t mean I wasn’t affected and didn’t realize it. Not to sound like a damn commercial, but it only takes a couple of seconds, right?”
“Right,” I murmured.
“And I bet Cody thought he was fine. He didn’t think for a second that getting behind that wheel would end that way.”
He hadn’t.
My chest ached and it had nothing to do with my injuries. Cody had believed he was okay to drive. So had Chris and Megan and Phillip.
“He’s fine. Come on.” Megan took my hand and leaned in, whispering in my ear, “I want chicken nuggets and sweet-and-sour sauce.”
Swallowing hard, I let the memory slip away, but the meaning lingered. None of them thought for a second there’d be a problem with Cody driving, because all of them had been drinking. But me? I’d known differently.
But Sebastian was right, in a way. We all were responsible, in varying degrees. We’d all been so incredibly careless, time and time again. It was just no one thought about these kinds of things until they happened, until it was too late. But at the end of the day, I was just as responsible as Cody. Maybe not legally. But definitely morally.
And I didn’t know how to live with that.
“Dary texted me earlier.”
I raised a brow. “Why? She was over here today.”
“I know.” Sebastian placed the bottle back between his knees. “But she’s worried about you.”
“She shouldn’t be.” I leaned to the side as the twinge in my ribs increased. “I’m fine.”
Sebastian laughed softly under his breath. “You’re far from being fine, Lena.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that pretending you’re straight in the head doesn’t mean you actually are.”
Brushing hair back from my face, I watched a star disappear behind clouds. “Are you now thinking about a career in psychology or something?”
He chuckled this time. “Maybe. I think I’m pretty good at it.”
I snickered. “Whatever.”
He stretched over, caught a strand of my hair and tugged gently. “Are you able to drive to school this week?” he asked. “I was talking to Dad about it, and he said one of the guys he knows at the plant had a collapsed lung. Just one. They didn’t want him driving until it was fully healed.”
“Yeah, I hadn’t gotten that far in my planning yet. I’m hoping they’ll be okay with me driving.”
“What about the arm, though? It’s just your left arm, but add that with the lungs, maybe you shouldn’t.” He dropped his arm and lifted his gaze skyward. “I live right next door. I can drive you until you’re fully healed.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m sure I’ll—”
“I don’t know if it’s necessary or not, but I want to give you a ride until you’re a hundred percent.”
I looked over at him. Our eyes met and held. “I’m fine. I can drive.”
“Or maybe you’re not. Maybe your reflexes are slow because your ribs are killing you. Or maybe you have trouble breathing and an accident happens.” He shifted toward me, and even though we were in separate chairs, there was suddenly very little space between us. “I almost lost you once. I don’t want that to happen again.”
My breath caught and it had nothing to do with the current state of my crappy lungs. “How will I get home, though? Don’t you have football practice? I don’t have volleyball practice,” I added, lifting the arm in a cast. “I’m out.”
“I’ve got almost an hour between when school ends and practice begins.” Sebastian didn’t question the whole volleyball thing. And Coach was probably expecting me on Tuesday, but that wasn’t going to happen. “I have time to get you home. I want to do it,” he added, voice lower. “And why wouldn’t I? If this was the other way around, you’d insist on driving me.”
He was right, but it would never be the other way around, because he wasn’t as stupid as me. Arguing over this was dumb, though. He lived next door. He was still, no matter what, my...my best friend. Though maybe not once he knew about the part I played in the accident.
He did that thing that drove me crazy: biting his lower lip and then letting it go slowly. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
“Is there?” I was staring at his mouth, thinking about how his lips had felt against mine.
His head tilted to the side. “There are a lot of things we need to talk about.”
Yeah.
Things I was sure I didn’t want to delve into.
Pulling away, I carefully leaned back in the chair. “I’m getting tired and I—”
“Don’t do it,” he demanded softly. “Don’t shut me out.”
My heart dropped. “I’m not shutting you out.”
“Yes. You’re shutting Abbi and Dary out, and the only reason you haven’t completely shut me out is because I’m not letting you.”
“You’re kind of annoying,” I admitted in a mutter.
He dropped his feet onto the floor and placed his bottle by his chair. “I have to say something to you. You don’t have to respond. You don’t have to tell me anything. All you need to do is listen while I clear something up.”
“I’m going to be honest right now,” I said, facing him. “I have no idea where you’re going with this.”
A lopsided smile appeared. “You will in a few moments.”
I waited.
His gaze locked on mine. “When did we meet? At six? Seven?”
“Eight,” I answered, wondering what that had to do with anything. “We moved into this house when I was eight, and you were outside, in the backyard throwing a football with your dad.”