Crash (part 2)

The next few weeks went on as normal. Natalie and Nick continued to have their conversations, and although they might have seemed to be doing better, Alison could see a change in the both of them for the worse. She figured it was because the anniversary of Natalie's mother’s and Nick's brother's deaths were approaching that they were acting a little off and hoped that if they just kept talking about it they could get through it, together. She had grown fond of Nick since he and Natalie had started talking, and she thought that he might be the one thing that could help her move on from her mother's death as she suspected Natalie would be for him. And there was no denying the way that he looked at Natalie whenever they were together or the way Natalie's eyes lit up whenever she heard his name. Natalie on the other hand, seemed to be oblivious to all of this, regardless of how many times Alison told her so.



"So, where do you go," Natalie asked Nick one night, as they sat in their usual spots, "to think about him and stuff?"

"Sometimes I go up to his grave," Nick said. "I feel closer to him there, I guess. And it's quiet—obviously—so I can just think to myself, sort everything out. I go up there every year on the anniversary of the day he died."

"When's that?"

"December 21st.”

She paused. It could still be a coincidence, she told herself.

"Wh-what ... what year?"

"2005."

Natalie's blood froze. She closed her eyes. December 21st 2005. She knew that date. It was forever engraved into her memory.

The day of the crash.

There had been a little boy in the other car. He had died on impact. She could still remember his body being covered as they put him into an ambulance. His last name had been Smith. It all added up. She looked at Nick. He had absolutely no idea.

There was still one way to be sure.

"Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"How did your brother die?"

He took a deep breath. "He, um, he died in—"

"Anybody home?” Alison walked through the door carrying a bag of badly needed groceries.

"Hey!" Nick called out, relieved to have an excuse not to tell Natalie what happened and how he could've prevented it

"Ya know, it's only the 15th of December, and there's like three feet of snow out there," Alison was saying. "By January, it's gonna be over my head. I swear."

Maybe not over your head," Nick said slyly, and Natalie could sense another short joke was coming. "But definitely over Natalie's."

"Shut up." Natalie said, though she couldn't help from laughing.

~~~

"So, I was thinking," Nick said a few hours later when he was heading out the door to go. “I was going to go up to my brother's grave this weekend, and since you don't have to leave till the next day, I was wondering if you wanted to come. I'd think I'd like it if you came."

Natalie's heart seemed to beat uncontrollably. Visit the grave of the boy for whose death she was responsible? Could she handle that? Would Nick ever forgive her if he knew the truth?

Something must have shown on her face, for Nick said, "I mean, if you'd wanna come. You don't have to. I know it's close to the day your mom died."

He really has no idea, she realized. How could he not put all the pieces together? Unless, of course, it really wasn't his brother. And she prayed that it wasn't, but deep down, she knew it was.

But then she looked at his face, and saw how much he needed her, truly needed her to be there for him. How could she refuse him? Especially after he asked her to come to the place where he was most vulnerable. It was like her spot on the swings. She never let anyone come with her and neither did he, until now. How could she say no?

"No," she said. "I'll come. I'd be honored to come with you."

~~~

Natalie counted down the days till visiting Nick's brother's grave like going to the dentist to get a tooth pulled. There was no way for her to get out of it. She had told Nick she would go, and she would. She knew how much this meant to him. But she couldn't help but think how much pain would result from this if it was Nick's brother at the accident.

The 21st finally came and Natalie and Nick headed off at about ten in the morning. The snow had finally stopped falling and the sun had started to peak out from between the clouds, but Natalie knew not to be fooled by the nice weather. A blizzard was on its way up, according to the weather channel, and she and Nick hoped they would get home in time to miss it.

Natalie was quiet most of the way up. Nick took it for that she was going home tomorrow for the long vacation and her own anniversary of her mother's death was approaching. He tried to get her talking, and after a few attempts she appeared to relax some.

"How did your parents handled this whole thing?" she said when they were about an hour into the trip.

"Well," he said after a minute, "they were pretty devastated at first. I mean they lost their child—and he was the baby. But they eventually got involved in these different groups for parents who lost their children. They still go to them, too. But, I mean, the first year, my mom couldn't bear to touch any of the stuff in his room. It just stayed there, like he was still living in it. It was eerie. Even the place where he sat at dinner stayed where it was. It was like there was this void that none of us could fill, and we were reminded of it everywhere we went in the house... I started staying away then. I couldn't take the reminders. I partied all night. Came home drunk. Came home high, sometimes both. Went out with all the major party girls—you know, the ones that are too drunk to care who there doing it with or where... But then one day my mom finally decided to clean out his room—it stayed empty for a while, but at least she was making some progress. Then when we ate dinner—when I was home for dinner—we sat at different spots, so his place wasn't empty anymore. Then, a little over a year ago they turned his room into a study. They've got pictures of him all over the wall in there, so it's not like he was never there, at least, but it's a step in the right direction."

"So, when did you get clean and stuff?" she asked him.

"About a year ago," he said. "My parents had to drive all the way up here to get me out of jail. Let me tell you, pissed does not even come close to how upset they were. But like I said, I had decided to get clean, so they helped me to see a psychologist and I went to AA for about six months. I still go every once in a while—but I've been sober for about ten months now."

"That's great," she said.

"And the psychologist helped to get my parents off my back a bit," he continued. “They were afraid I would just go back to all that afterwards. But she told them my "acting out" was just my way of externalizing the pain. So they relaxed a bit."

Natalie nodded. He could tell she was thinking about something, but before he could ask her she pointed out the window.

"Is this it?"

He looked ahead to where she was pointing. There was a large cemetery up ahead, with an iron gate fence and several elaborate tombstones scattered throughout all the smaller ones, all covered in snow. The partially snow covered sign said, "Mancott Place Cemetery."

"Yep," he said and turned into the cemetery. They drove slowly through the path. Even with the snow covering the path and the names on the graves, Nick knew exactly where to go. He could drive blindfolded here and know when to turn the wheel on the curve of the path and how far down to go on each winding lane before turning once again.

He finally stopped and turned the car off. He sat there for a moment, staring out in front of them, as still as the stone graves that surrounded them, his hands still on the wheel. Natalie touched his arm and he looked at her, waking up from whatever trance he’d been in. He nodded at her and got out of the car. Natalie followed his lead, pulling her coat tighter around her body to protect it against the fierce wind that was blowing. She walked around the car to meet him, and taking her mitten covered hand, he silently led her through the maze of graves to one special one. He stopped a little ways in at a grave that was very similar to the rest. Some fresh roses had recently been placed in the snow and he dusted off any snow that was covering them.

"My parents came over here yesterday," he explained quietly. She watched him dust last night's snow off the grave so that it could now clearly be seen. She read the engraving:

Jason Smith

Beloved Son and Brother

I992-2005

"He was so young," she said, more to herself than to Nick. He nodded, kneeling down at the grave, not caring that the snow would soak through his jeans. "It wasn't fair," he whispered, but his voice was carried off with the wind.

Natalie looked back down at the grave. She needed to know something.

"Nick?" she said.

"Hmm?"

She paused, not sure if she was ready to know the truth.

"How did your brother die?"

He was silent for a moment and she thought—hoped—that he might not have heard her. Maybe it would be better if they didn’t know. But then he spoke.

"Car accident,” he said and Natalie's heart seemed to stop. No.

She dosed her eyes and could see the entire scene again. The snow, the tail lights coming out of no where, the brakes failing on the ice, the car spinning out of control, the crash, the lights and sirens of the ambulances, the little boy’s limp body being covered...

Nick's voice brought her back to the present. "He was out with my parents one night and there was this awful storm. Then, some idiot spins out and hits them head on, throwing the car into the trees and ... he died. Right there on the spot." He stopped, his head bent down and she knew he was crying. She wanted so badly to put her hand on his shoulder—anything that would comfort him—but she didn't know how.

How could she when she was that idiot that killed his brother?

But then he started talking again. "He was kinds small for his age, ya know? And when they showed me his body at the hospital ... he looked so ... his body had been crushed from the impact..."

Tears began to fall from Natalie's eyes. She wanted to scream for him to stop, but it only came out as a whisper, too quiet to be heard over the howling wind.

"...and I just kept thinking, look how small he is, he looks so cold. I just wanted to hold him and make everything better for him."

"I'm so sorry, Nick," she said through her tears. He nodded, obviously not understanding the full meaning of what she had said. She sighed. "Why didn't you tell me this?" she asked, not meaning for it to be out loud. Why didn't you tell me?

He shrugged his shoulders, still not looking at her. "You're not the only one with secrets, Natalie.”

“What do you mean?”

He took a breath.

“I'm the reason my brother died."

“What?”

"It's my fault he died," Nick said. "I could've prevented it. I was hanging out with friends that night and he wanted to stay with me. He looked up to me, ya know? He wanted to be around me all the time. But I said no. I didn't want him to. So he went out to dinner or something with my parents... and he died. If I had just let him say..."

"Nick, you can't blame yourself for this," Natalie said.

"Why not?" his voice was suddenly harsh. "You blame yourself for your mom's death."

She was silent, stung by what had just come out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he said reaching out for her. He found her leg and held on to it. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I have no right to talk to you about blame and guilt. It's just that ... If I had just let him stay that one night, everything would've been fine."

"Nick, I. . . "

"If I hadn't been such a jerk that night,” he went on, mostly to himself.

"Nick—"

“It's my fault," his shoulders began to shake violently and she went to kneel down in front of him. He fell into her arms and sobbed. "It's all my fault."

His tears soaked her hair that had escaped her hat as he clung to her. She held him close, searching for the strength to say what she needed to say next. She couldn't bear for him to blame himself.

"Don't say that," she said to him. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was. If I hadn't—"

"It was my fault."

He stopped shaking. What had she just said? He finally looked at her, taking in her tear stained face and red eyes.

"What are you talking about?" he asked her, confused.

"It was me," she said looking down. "I hit your parents' car."

He was silent for a moment, still holding on to her.

"Did you hear me?" she looked up at him now. "I said it was me. I'm the person responsible for your brother’s death!"

"But, but the people who hit them," he began, trying to rationalize, "the lady who died—she was Asian."

"My mother. Didn‘t you ever see the story on the news?"

“I couldn’t bear to watch it,” he said quietly. He stared at her for what seemed like eternity. "Are you sure? How do you know this?"

"I only figured it out last week," she said. "When you told me about your brother's anniversary."

He seamed to be processing all of this. She watched as the expression on his face changed and he stood up suddenly.

"It was you? You crashed into them?"

"Nick, I'm so sorry," she stood up. "I can't even begin to say how sorry I am. I wanted to tell you before, but I didn't know how and..."

The look on his face made her want to cry all over again.

"You killed him?" the words came out as a whisper and cut her through the heart. He looked at her as if she might actually say no, it wasn't her, she had been in a totally different place. It could never be her. And as much as she wished she could say that right now or—better yet—take away the last two minutes of their conversation—she knew there was nothing she could say to make this better.

"Nick I...“

He turned away from her. "I...I can't talk to you right now," he said slowly. The anger and pain on his face made her want to crawl under one of these graves. "I can't look at you."

She nodded, more tears streaming down her face. "Nick I'm so sorry." But he was walking away, and her voice was carried away by the wind.

~~~

Nick's cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"What did you freaking say to her?" an angry voice yelled over the phone, awakening Nick from any sleep still left in his body.

"Who—who is this?"

"What did you say to Natalie?"

"Alison? Do you know what time it is?" he asked looking at his watch. It read 2:05 a.m.

"Yeah, I know what freaking time it is," she yelled. "Now tell me this: do you know where Natalie is as we speak?"

"Where is she?" He sat up.

"Well, after she hitch-hiked home today—"

"Hey I went back for her," he said. "She was gone."

"Yeah, well, I would be too after Lord knows what you said to her," Alison shot back. "Anyways, she comes through the door, covered in snow, crying and mumbling about something, locks herself in the bathroom—I had to pee really bad by the way—and comes out an hour later and ends up in the arms of Andy Franzo at a frat party—as we speak."

Nick squirmed. Andy Franzo felt that it was his duty to sleep with every girl in their graduating class by the time he graduated—and any other freshmen that he could get. "Can't you get her out of there?" he asked, scratching his head.

"No. No Nick I can't," Nick had never heard her so upset. "You see, she's kinda drunk right now and I can't get her out of Andy's groping arms—let alone carry her back to the dorm. So whatever happened with you two up there, you'd better forget it for the next half hour and come over here and get her out."

He sighed.

"Please, Nick," her tone changed. She sounded worried. "I've never seen her like this. And I don't know who else to call. If you care about her even the tiniest bit—please come."

He sighed, "Where are you?"

~~~

The party was loud, and reeked of beer and smoke. Nick made his way through the mob, searching for Natalie and Alison. The scene reminded him of his old party days and he almost took the beer when someone offered it to him. It would be so easy—especially after today—to drown all his problems with a drink. But he couldn't afford to. Not after all he'd been through. And especially not when he came here for a reason.

He found Alison and she led him back to where Natalie and Andy were. They were sitting in the corner and his hand was up her shirt. Despite his mixed feelings for her at the moment, Nick found himself surprisingly sick at seeing the two of them together, more so than he'd thought he'd be.

"Natalie," he called her name loudly as he pulled her away from Andy. "What are you doing?"

She looked around surprised. "Oh, hi Nick!" She was clearly drunk.

"Natalie, come on," Nick said, catching her as she stumbled. "Let me take you home."

"Why should I?" she slurred, pushing herself away from Nick.

"Because you don't want to be here. You don't want to do something you might regret," Nick told her.

"How would you know what I want?"

"Hey now," Andy's also drunk voice came from the couch as he pulled Natalie back down. "There ain't no need to spoil the party here, man,"

Nick tried to grab Natalie's arm to pull her back to him, but she pulled away and sat down with Andy.

"C’mon Nick," she said. "I'm only doing what you did, remember? I wanna be ... one of those party major girls—major party girls," she laughed at herself. "I wanna numb the pain like you did."

"Natalie, c'mon," Alison said. "You don't know what you're saying. You're drunk."

"I am not," Natalie said defensively, though it came out in a giggle. "Slightly tipsy maybe ... but not drunk.

"I'll help you numb the pain, baby," Andy whispered into her ear.

Perhaps it was the collimation of all that had happened today or just the fact that Andy's hand was now moving up Natalie's shirt once again. Nick didn't care really which one the reason was—maybe both—but before he knew it he had punched Andy square in the jaw.

"Hey!" Andy cried out in pain, but Nick ignored him and grabbed Natalie. She struggled with him as they moved towards the door and he finally threw her over his shoulder and carried her out as she yelled at him to put her down.

He put her into the backseat of his car and drove her and Alison back to their dorm. She was semi passed out when they reached it, so he carried her up in his arms and placed her in her bed after Alison opened the door. He watched her lie there as Alison wet a cloth and got a bucket from next door—just in case she didn't make it to the bathroom. He knew he should despise her right now, after all that she had done to him. But he found himself taking her boots off and covering her with a blanket, then brushing a wisp of hair from her face.

"Thanks again for coming," Alison said walking back through the door, startling him out of whatever kind of moment he had just had.

"No problem," he said. Then glancing back at Natalie, "I should go."

Alison nodded, giving him a pat on the arm before going to Natalie.

He was almost out the door when he heard Natalie whisper, "Why do they hate me Ally? Why do they... first my dad and now Nick. I—I didn't mean for it to happen. I’m so sorry. I wish it were me that died. Don’t they know that? Why do they hate me?"

Alison hushed her and glanced over at Nick to see if he had heard, wanting him to say something. He looked over at them for a moment before walking out the door.

~~~

Alison drove Natalie to the airport in the morning.

"I'm sorry about last night again," Natalie said while they were waiting in the terminal.

"Don't worry about it," Alison said. "We all get to have a spaz out night. Just remember this when I have mine and you have to drag me home."

Natalie laughed. Alison always knew how to lighten up a situation. "Will do. And thanks."

"Yeah, yeah," Alison shrugged. "What are friends for, right?"

"Did he say anything last night?" Natalie asked after a minute.

Alison shook her head. "I think it'd be best if you just gave him some time."

~~~

It was raining when Natalie got to North Carolina and she tried not to think that this was somehow appropriate. Keisha and their dad greeted her at the terminal as usual, and for a while Natalie thought that this vacation would be the same as all the others. But then she began to notice there was something different with her dad and Keisha. They were talking more, laughing even.

She saw more of it through the next few weeks. He had been home more, Keisha told her, and they did more stuff together. Natalie hoped that this new change would mean something for her, too. But her and her dad's relationship seemed to have just stayed the same—or even gotten worse. She avoided her dad as much as possible, just to avoid whatever fight happened to be lingering from the last argument.

~~~

On her last week at home, Natalie went for a walk in the afternoon. She needed to get out of the house. The silences between her and her father were deafening and Keisha’s chattering was starting to annoy her. She needed to clear her mind.

Her mom had died three years ago today. Three years and it still seemed like just yesterday she was begging her mom to let her drive them from the school to the airport.

.....

The white-out hadn’t started until about a half hour into the drive. It was dark out, but all they could see was white. The cars in front and behind them disappeared in the snow. She wanted to pull over to let her mom drive, but her mom had said no. They couldn’t see where the other cars were and the cars wouldn’t have been able to see them if they had stopped.

“Just keep going slow, baby,” her mom had said, her voice low. “You can do it.”

They had hit a patch of back ice and Natalie had screamed as the car started to fishtail. Her mom tried to grab the wheel to steady her, but Natalie panicked and hit the breaks. The car spun into the oncoming lane. Natalie saw a brief flash of the other car before they hit. And then everything went black.

She remembered awakening to the sound of sirens. The firemen were trying to break the windows to get to them. They had flipped over somehow. She could smell the faint scent of gasoline. She looked over to her mom. Her face was covered in blood.

“Mom?” Natalie had whispered. “Mom!”

She had reached out to shake her arm, but she still didn’t wake up.

“Mom, please,” Natalie cried. The glass shattered then, and Natalie had tried to shield her face from it.

“Are you ok?” the fireman had asked her.

“My mom...”

“It’s okay.” he had to shout for her to hear him over the noise of the sirens and the breaking glass. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

She looked over to where her mom was. There were men cutting her seatbelt off of her. Natalie’s rescuer pulled her out of the car and lifted her into his arms. Pain shot through her body as the cold wind hit her like a brick wall.

She glanced around her. The white-out had lifted and she could see the other car now. It had turned on its side. She couldn’t see anybody in it. Her eyes turned to one of the ambulances. The paramedics were kneeling on the ground next to it. What were they looking at? She couldn’t get a clear view. Oh no, it was a body. Oh please let it be alive, she prayed. One of the paramedics moved, and she could see that it was a child, a boy--no older than twelve. Oh please let him be ok. She willed him to breath, to move, anything. But one of the paramedics was placing a blue sheet over his body. She watched in horror as they covered his face and placed him in the ambulance. She stopped breathing. No! She must have said it out loud, because her rescuer who was carrying her looked over.

“You don’t need to see that right now,” he said, turning his body so that her view of the scene was blocked.

“Is he dead?” she asked. But he didn’t answer her. Instead, he placed her on the stretcher as a group of paramedics surrounded her.

“Is he dead?” she asked him again, grabbing his hand. He looked at her, then over at the boy, then over at her again. His eyes were wet. He nodded and she immediately let go of him.

She had killed someone.

A little boy was dead because of her.

Dead.

Because of her.

She must have blacked out after that, because the next thing she remembered she was in the hospital room. She had asked one of the doctors about the other car. The family’s name was Smith, he had explained. They wouldn’t be pressing any charges against her because they knew it was an accident. The other family members who were in the car had been discharged from the hospital already, so she had never gotten a chance to see them.

.....

The clouds were darkening and she considered whether she should take the umbrella, but decided against it, figuring she’d be back before it started to rain too hard. She passed by the library and the park where she and Keisha used to play. Her thoughts drifted to her mom and how she used to pack their lunch in a picnic basket and they’d all go to the overlook and watch the sailboats on the lake as they ate. Before she knew it, she was heading for there. It was a long walk. Couple hours probably, but Natalie didn’t seem to notice or care about the time. She just kept walking. Maybe if she walked far enough she could forget everything that had happened. Maybe she could be numb again like when she had walked around out in the snow at the hospital when her mom died.

The wind was getting cold, and she wrapped her jacket tighter around herself. It was raining now. It seemed funny--she hadn’t remembered it starting. She was soaked by the time she reached the bridge.

The overlook was just on the other side of the bridge. Car lights swept by her as she walked across on the side walk. It was a long bridge. She looked down at the dark lake beneath her. It was getting dark now. The sun had been hidden behind the dark, imposing clouds and was probably beneath the horizon now. She leaned on the cement railing and closed her eyes, listening to the rain hit the water. Her mom loved to listen to the sound of the rain outside. She would sit on the porch all afternoon sometimes and just listen to it. No book or anything. Just listening to the rain.

A crack of thunder startled her, and she continued her path across the bridge. About halfway across, something on the side walk caught her eye. Lying against the cement wall was a pink bear, surrounded by old flowers and wreaths. There were photos of a young girl, smudged now from the rain and covered in wax from melted candles.

Some one had died here. At this very spot.

Its was probably a car accident or something. The girl was smiling in all the pictures. Carefree. Not knowing that possibly soon after that picture was taken she would die.

Natalie looked at the girl’s smiling face and her thoughts began to race. The accident. Watching Nick’s brother’s little body being carried away. Nick’s face that day she had told him it was her. The way he had looked at her. All the arguments with her father. All the silences with him. She missed her mom. She missed her so bad right now she didn‘t think she could breath. She kneeled down against the wall and sobbed. She couldn’t hold it back any more. Everything was so screwed up! She didn’t know if it would ever be right again.

Cars passed her by. She felt invisible against the wall, like she could just disappear into the air. Or into the water. She wished she could. She wished she could just disappear and then maybe that would undo all the pain that she had caused. But then one pair of headlights seemed to slow down. She heard a car come to a stop and a door open. She looked up.

“Natalie!” her father’s face appeared over the top of the car. “What are you doing here?”

She couldn’t deal with another argument with her father right now. She got up and started walking towards the overlook.

“Where are you going?” he shouted over the rain. It was pouring now. Lightning lit up the sky. “Do you know how long I was looking for you?”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“You’re soaking wet!” he walked to the front of the car. “You’re gonna get yourself sick.”

“I’m fine, ok?” she yelled. “Just leave me alone.”

“You’re not fine,” he started following her. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Then more quietly she added, “Not like you care.”

“What?” he had caught up with her now. But she wouldn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to see that she was crying. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” her voice was cold. “Forget it.”

“Hey,” he grabbed her arm suddenly and turned her around. “This isn’t ‘nothing’ so tell me what’s going on.”

“Would you stop acting like you care!” she was yelling now. She couldn’t help it. After all those years of being quiet, and after what had happened with Nick, she couldn’t control what came out of her mouth.

He let go of her arm then. An expression appeared on his face that she couldn’t quite recognize.

“Natalie...”

“I get it, ok?” she went on, shaking her head. “You hate me.”

Her father stared at her in silence. She didn’t know why she had expected something else.

“I get it,” she couldn’t tell if she was yelling or crying now. “You don’t have to hide it. I know you can’t forgive me for what happened with Mom.”

“You think—”

“But couldn’t you at least try—pretend even—that you love me?” she wiped the salty tears from her face. “I know we lost Mom but...I need you to love me. Why can’t you love me? Am I that awful?”

“Natalie—”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I killed her, and the little boy. I’m sorry...” She covered her face in her hands. There were arms around her then. Big, strong arms that held her and made her feel safe. And loved. She looked up, confused, to see who they were connected to. She saw her father’s face, tear-stained and looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, crying.

“Shhhh,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “No baby, I’m sorry. I–I had no idea you felt this way...Look at me. This is serious. How can I make you understand this? I could never hate you. Honestly, I thought you hated me. I wasn’t there on the trip. I wasn’t there for you after she died. I haven’t been there for you at all. I didn’t know how to make it better for you afterwards. And you were always upset when you came here. I thought...she must hate me.”

She started to cry again.

“I thought you hated me...I was driving the car.”

“Natalie,” he said firmly, “this was not your fault. I’ve never blamed you for it. And it’s time you’ve stopped blaming yourself.”

She let herself be pulled into him then and he held her as she cried. She cried for her mother, and then for Nick and for his little brother. And then she cried for her dad. She couldn’t help it. These past three years she had thought he hated her. And now, to know that he didn’t was like having some insurmountable weight taken off her chest. If he didn’t blame her, then maybe it wasn’t her fault, and maybe she didn’t have to blame herself.

~~~

This was the first vacation in a long time that Natalie wish could last longer so she could be with her dad. They had talked the whole rest of the week about every thing—Mom, the crash, what they had been going through. She promised to call when she got back to Vermont and they would talk more.

He didn't blame her. He had never blamed her. Never. Natalie couldn't begin to describe how relieved she was to know that. Things seemed different now that she knew it. It was as if she could finally start to move on—almost. There was still one painful reminder of her guilt.

Natalie and Nick avoided each other the first few weeks back. They no longer had Microbiology now that they were in the second semester. And if one saw the other in the hall or on the campus, they would always take a different route to where they were going.

"This is ridiculous!" Alison told Natalie one night. "You can't avoid each other forever. Why don't you just talk to him?"

"I can't," Natalie said. "If we talk, what ever we had between us will be over."

"What exactly did you have?"

Natalie paused. "We had this connection, ya know? Like I could tell him anything and not feel embarrassed. We had something in common—we just didn't know how in common. And..."

"You loved him?"

“Look,” she sighed, “Nick and I needed each other to get through this whole thing. And I’m so grateful to him for helping me to move on. I’ll always remember him for that. But we’re better off apart now.” She remembered the day at the cemetery. “You killed them?’ he had said, and the look on his face could have cut her heart out with a knife. “It’s for the best,” she added.

“But did you love him?” Alison asked again, sympathetically.

Natalie paused. "Love? Yeah... that too."

~~~

They finally did bump into each other. Crash into each other was more like it, about a week later. Natalie was walking up a path, reading a book for class and listening to her iPod. Nick was jogging, also listening to his iPod, and not paying attention to where he was going. He slammed into her, head on, and they both fell to the ground, like the way it happens on cartoons.

"Sorry," he said, helping her up. Only then did he realize it was her.

“Me too," she said, checking that her book was intact. Then she looked at him. Oh crap. Now what? She was about to turn around when he grabbed her arm.

"Wait," he said. "We can't keep avoiding each other like this."

"So what should we do?"

"Talk?"

She looked at him, then went and sat on a near by bench. He followed. Neither said anything for a minute.

"I don't know why I didn't see it," he said finally. "Put the pieces together."

"Maybe you didn't want to," she said. "It would definitely have been easier not to see it."

"You know, for the longest time," he began, "I thought about what I would do if I saw the person who crashed into them. All the things I would say to them. How much I wanted them to feel the same pain I feel every day."

"Nick I'm so sorry..." she didn't know if she could bear to hear this.

"But then I met you," he continued, turning to face her. "And you made me feel better... about everything. You gave me a reason to be strong, to move forward ... Then when you told me at the cemetery...I couldn't believe it. I'm sorry I reacted the way I did..."

"You were in shock..." she reasoned.

"All I could think was, this is the person who killed my brother."

"Nick I—"

"Wait, let me finish," he interrupted. Then taking a deep breath, continued, "I've wanted to hurt the person who crashed into them for the longest time. And now that you're sitting right in front of me ... All I want—all I want is to hold you and protect you and take all the pain away for you. It makes no sense I know, but... Natalie, I think I'm falling in love with you."

She sat there, speechless. This was not exactly what she had expected.

"Well, would you say something!" he said.

"So, you forgive me? For what happened?"

Nick smiled, shaking his head. "I don't blame you for it. It wasn't your fault."

"But I—I was driving and..."

He put his finger to her lips to silence her. "No," he said.

"No?"

"No. "

But the last 'no' came out as a whisper as he got closer to her lips. And as he kissed her, Natalie felt the pieces of her past and future come, connecting together and, finally, she felt like everything was right again. It wouldn’t be easy, she could tell as she gazed into his eyes. But she knew as their lips came together a second time it was what they needed. They needed each other. And that would be enough.



The End