Chapter 4: The Party

The Party

Days came to pass and I was only a few weeks into my first month living in the small town of Easthunt when I was invited to a party at Jesse’s house. I had heard only rumors that all of Jesse’s parties were top notch or the best. I had laughed when I heard that because I knew that nothing in that small town would ever amount to anything that I had experienced before I moved. It would be nothing like some of the parties I had gone to back living with Teresa.

I spent a lot of time debating whether or not to go to the party. It would undoubtedly never come close to the power and wildness of anything I had gone to before but, even in the small town, there were drugs and there was a wrong crowd. Even though they couldn’t compare to how bad I had once been, there was still a way I could get pulled back into the darkness and still a way I could get dragged under the water.

Nothing could ever come close to being like the parties I went to with Trevor. He had taken me to the clean ones, leading me away from the temptation of the drugs and not letting me near them. He had taken me away from that and there was nothing in the entire world that could make me miss him more. I learned that some parties could be fun without having to get stoned or wasted. Sometimes, just hanging out with people was enough.

I wanted to speak to him that night. I wanted to ask him if it would be safe to go to the party. I couldn’t though. It was my fault that I would never be able to speak with him again. I blamed myself fully for what had happened.

The night of the party came quickly and it wasn’t long before I realized that I had nothing to wear. None of my city clothes had been practical for Easthunt and so I had left them with Teresa. She had worn my party clothes more than I ever had. That was only after I had met Trevor though.

It was only when I needed my former clothes most that I regretted my decision about purposely forgetting them. I didn’t give up completely though, still believing that I would find something nice to wear to the party.

A pang of unusual guilt hit me when I thought of how we had left out mother. I stood frozen in front of my closet, unable to force the image of my mother out. Guilt overwhelmed me and I walked out of my room and into my counselor’s; Spencer had become my councilor for all of my problems.

Though I spoke to him about a lot, there were many secrets I still had. I never told him about my past, I never would. He may still love me but he would be shamed forever at what I had done.

Sadness hit me when I remembered that Trevor had been the best counselor. He would have grown up and gotten a job in that. He had always been there when I needed him, had always been there to save me. He had given his life.

“I can’t stop thinking of mom,” I told him angrily as I paced back and forth in his small room. “I mean, I know leaving her was the right thing to do for us but I feel so guilty.” My feet continued to pace, relentlessly back and forth across his dirty floor.

Spencer put his book down and nodded. “I know, right? I feel the exact same way.” He smiled the smile that always made me laugh. “I feel terrible but on the other hand I’m just trying not to care.” His expression was that of someone who had experience more than anyone should have, even though he was only fourteen.

“You’re a great councilor, Spencer,” I told him with a smile. I turned to leave his room but stopped about halfway out. “Could you take care of Clayton this evening?” I asked him with a pleading smile. I dropped my face into my best puppy look but held the smile.

“Sure thing, sis,” he said, picking his book back up and opening it the page where I had interrupted him on. “Have fun at Jesse’s party tonight,” he laughed at the expression that hit my face like a bomb. “Alexis Abigail told me about it,” he said as his eyes returned his book. I watched a smile play at his lips as he resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

“I didn’t know Emilee had a sister,” I turned and walked out of the room. Curiosity was sparked inside me as I wondered what having a real sister would be like. I didn’t think of it much as I chose a black shirt and jean miniskirt. It wasn’t the best look but no one had said it was a formal party. I changed and went down towards the kitchen.

I heard Tom talking on the phone and paused only momentarily to listen. It was probably a work call but that didn’t stop me from eaves-dropping. The words he spoke stopped me more than momentarily as I listened to his whole conversation play out before my ears.

“I can’t tell Ash, babe. She wouldn’t understand.” There was a pause as the other person spoke. I couldn’t believe that my own father wouldn’t tell me something. I had just come back to him and yet he was already keeping secrets. I strained to hear but got nothing for my efforts. Tom spoke again, “no, she’s suspicious, I think.”

What in the heck did I have to be suspicious about? I listened harder than before but only heard the slight buzzing of the phone as whoever was on the other end spoke. His voice was much quieter when he responded. “They’re sisters, even if it’s only half. We have to tell them sometime.” He waited again and silence filled the room except for the momentary speaking. “Yes, we have to tell her before she figures it out. I have to go so I will talk to you later.” He paused and then spoke nearly as soon as he had stopped. “I love you, just remember that, Ava.” He stopped again as Ava Jay responded. “Bye for now.”

It hit me then and there that my father loved Ava Jay. He had said so but it wasn’t just his words that told me so. Allison was my sister; that was where I had seen her eyes before. Tom had said she was only my half-sister and that meant – another pang of realization hit me harder than the first. Could it be that Tom had left Teresa for Ava? Ava hated me for moving in with Tom because we had forced her and Allison out. I slightly understood what was going on.

My feet took me slowly back up the stairs and into my room. I couldn’t wipe the shock that was written so clearly across my face. For someone who had always been good at control, I had started failing.

I felt like I needed to scream. I just needed to get rid of the rage that was building. I could feel the tears coming but I swallowed, forcing them back down. Why was it that I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that betrayed me, wrote my emotions so all could see?

The door bell rand and I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand. No one would ever know about the pain that was now behind these eyes. I quickly composed myself before going back down the kitchen and to the main entrance. I pulled open the door and welcomed Emilee.

My smile was fake. It was the one I had used so many times on Teresa but had never felt guilty about. I felt terrible. I wanted to cry again but blinked away the beginning of what could have become a water show. I blinked away the tears before they even came.

I couldn’t tell my younger brothers about this. Neither would understand, nor did I feel like explaining it to them. I was unsure of what to do, so I told myself I would think about it at the party then come home and confront Tom. I told this to myself, knowing full well that I would never have the guts to confront my father about such an issue.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked her through my painfully smiling lips. I worked newer smiles into the picture as I stepped into my skater shoes. This could possibly become the hardest night of my life. I cursed my own life as I continued to put on the happy face that fooled my friend.

She nodded and turned towards the door. I was just about to follow her out when I heard Tom’s questioning fatherly voice interrupting my reeling mind.

I knew, without having to hear his words, what he was going to say. Where are you going? My mind asked me in his strong male voice. Who’s taking care of Clayton? It continued to ask me questions that I knew were Tom’s style. I didn’t wait for my father to actually say the words. “I’m going to a party with Emilee,” I told him with the same painfully dishonest smile as before. “Spencer will take care of Clayton while I’m gone. You won’t have to worry about a thing,” I told him. I followed my new friend out the door and nearly slammed it in his face behind me. Instead, I closed it calmly and gracefully as I normally would.

I followed Emilee into the passenger side of the large van. There were other people already laughing and starting the party in the back. There was a faint hint of alcohol but I chose to pretend that I had no idea that they were drinking. I joined Emilee in the passenger’s seat beside the driver. I didn’t speak as the listened to my friends’ happy chatter in the background of the trip. We drove for a few more minutes after each stop we made. I couldn’t believe how many people actually fit in the van but it was only a distant thought as I listened to the voices rising and gaining in multitude and volume.

I couldn’t focus for very long as my mind drifted back once again to the news I had learned of my parents, more of my disgraceful past. There wasn’t a sound that I wanted to hear and I closed my eyes for just one fraction of a second and opened them again, remembering that I couldn’t afford to let this show.

We finally arrived at the party and filed one by one out of the van. There was loud music already blaring from the house and I followed the small group I had come with into the home. I soon fell into an easy conversation with some of the people who were at the party.

Everyone was there to have a good time and it was great to meet people and socialize. As I expected, there were games like beer pong – which one side was clearly winning – and kings. Guys were always looking to hook up with girls and most of the girls made sure they dressed cute. There were the potheads, and clearly they were the ones in the corner of the backyard lighting a flame every few seconds. Even if I had wanted to join in, it would have been another five dollars.

A lot of vandalism was going on but I had seen that all before and it didn’t really bother me. It wasn’t my stuff and so I just passed right on by.

I met a girl who was a year or so older than me, called Amanda. She was there with her friends and invited me to hang out with them. I did for a while, speaking with them about school and just making pointless small talk that I wouldn’t remember in the morning. It was fun for a while, until we ran out of things to talk about. We parted and I made my way through the crowd to find someone new to hang out with.

There was a punch bowl that someone had spiked with another kind of alcohol. I wasn’t sure I wanted to drink tonight and so I refused. I was scared that I might fall back into the ease of what my life had once been, and that was what I feared, why I refused to take a drink. There was a keg, too, which I could easily just pay a couple dollars for a cup and drink as much as I wanted. Again, I decided against it knowing that it was easy to fall back into my addictions.

About halfway through the night, I noticed that Kyle was there. He was alone so I made my way over towards him.

“Hey, Kyle,” I said nervously. I smiled even though my stomach was full of butterflies and my head full of dark thoughts about my father and Ava Jay. “How are you?” I couldn’t think of anything to say as I asked the simplest questions that came to my mind.

He smiled and answered me with his angelic voice. “I’m not bad, yourself?” He said, and his voice pulled me into a daze. His laugh was even more amazing than his voice though hearing his voice was probably a once in a lifetime thing.

Kyle reminded me of Trevor so much. It scared me how alike they were but I couldn’t let the memories of Trevor be replaced by Kyle. Though loving Trevor as I did, it was a different feeling that that which I felt for Kyle. Kyle it was more of an ache, more than just a simple hurt and butterflies. He made me ache inside whenever we were near each other. With Trevor it was love, like I loved my brothers. He was my family, everything that had ever meant anything.

We wandered over to the bar and he offered me a drink but I politely refused, remembering that I didn’t want to fall back into who I had been. I knew that one drink couldn’t hurt, but I felt better knowing that I was beating out temptation.

Kyle and I made small talk, speaking of little things such as school and classes. Most of it was meaningless but it was important to me, a conversation worth having. After a while, we broke apart. It wasn’t that it had gotten awkward, it was just that we had lingered together for too long. Kyle was opening and other beer when I wandered away.

I made my way to the stairwell and found my way upstairs. I went to the washroom and looked in the mirror at my face. It was slightly pale but smiling. There was a glow that lit up my face, cheerful though I still thought of Tom and Ava in the back of my mind. I couldn’t get it out of my head and their conversation kept replaying in my head. ‘They’re sisters, even if it’s only half.’ I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath.

The glass started cracking suddenly and it felt like an earth quake was rumbling beneath my feet, but when I blinked, there was nothing. It was just a hallucination, just some silly image my mind had conjured up.

I left the washroom, feeling slightly cold even though the building was bright and hot. I searched for Emilee and found her talking with Kyle. “Hey Emilee, could you give me a ride home?” I asked her hopefully. I was shaking and I couldn’t control the movement. It was a slight quiver just inside but I couldn’t stop it.

She groaned audibly and wrinkled her nose. “You’re kidding me, Ash!” She exclaimed loudly and already, before she even had to say a word I knew every word she was going to say. The party is just getting started! She would say, then get all mad and refuse to take me home.

I was actually impressed that she had only used Ash though and so I smiled like I wasn’t going to puke. I just ignored the pain and continued to smile. I didn’t need that right then. My head was screaming and the loud music that blared inescapable in my ears didn’t help at all.

I felt myself getting fainter and fainter every minute I stood there with Emilee and Kyle. I wanted to die. I wanted to die in a hole. I didn’t want to exist anymore. I didn’t want to have to deal with the overly loud music and the killer headache that ravaged my thoughts. I wanted the pain to end. I wanted it all to fade away into a lovely sleep.

“The party is just getting started and you want to go home?” My new friend’s voice snapped me back into reality. I saw her shaking her head then speaking words my aching brain could barely comprehend. “I’m not taking you.” She turned and walked away from me. I knew somewhere inside me what she would be thinking but I didn’t pay any attention to it.

Kyle, however, was still looking closely at me. His sparkling eyes dazed me and momentarily I lost every sense of pain to the intensity and depth of the brown orbs. “You look really sick,” he told me with a worried expression. His voice was still angelic even though there was a worry filtering it. His hand brushed my face and suddenly goose bumps ran up my arm. “Are you cold?” He questioned, worry in his eyes.

I shook my head, still consciously aware of the pain in my chest that his slight touch had caused me. I could not lie to him, could not tell him something that wasn’t true. I found it impossible to tell him something that wasn’t so. “You just touched me,” I said with a pained laugh and little humor beneath it.

He motioned with his hand in some general direction that I missed, motioning for someone to come and help. I paused only momentarily to think of it, but it passed as another strong wave of pain crashed down upon me.

Kyle smiled back at me, as if understanding what I meant by getting goose bumps from his touch. He then stepped beside me, taking my waist, bringing me out to his car. “You have a bad fever,” he told me as helped me into the passenger seat and wandered around to the other side of the car. He got inside and sat for a moment, holding his head in his hands, as if trying to clear it.

Somewhere in the back of my mind there was a thought about how much alcohol Kyle had drank and that there was some law that would catch us.

The world was spinning wildly and I found that a barrier had formed between reality and my crazy delusions. The only thing that kept me tied into reality was Kyle Ryder’s voice. His voice and his voice alone responding to my words made me believe that this could end. This would be over soon. I grasped onto the one thing I was sure of. “Kyle,” I whispered. The world did another crazy flip when I heard his voice responding to my words and I couldn’t believe that they were actually being said. “I…” I knew that more words came after. I tried once more to get out the words. “I…” I whispered and then the entire word went dark. It faded into an empty nothingness where Kyle could not wake me from.

There was a moment in the darkness when I heard him leave the car and walk to the front. I heard his voice speaking to someone, telling them to take me home but I didn’t think much of it as I faded in and out of semi-consciousness.

A female next entered the drivers’ side of the vehicle. “Hey, Ash,” she said with a smile in her voice. “I’m the designated driver for Kyle and he asked me to take you home.” She laughed, a tinkling sound that, had I been fully awake, would have driven me crazy. As it was, it didn’t bother me. I recognized her as Amanda, the girl who I had met at the beginning of the night. She continued to speak, as she started up the vehicle and began driving. Her chatter was easy to ignore and I faded once more.

It had to be a hallucination, but I couldn’t be sure. It felt so real.

I was tired of being strong. I was tired of holding on. I felt like I had climbed across the monkey bars too many times and my fingers were aching to let go. I couldn’t ever let go though, because that meant too much. To break down meant to lose forever and that wasn’t something I wanted. My fingers were slipping slowly and I knew that I would eventually fall. The pain was increasing ever so slowly and I knew that it was time to let go. I had to stay strong so I held on no matter how great the pain was. I held on even though I wanted to let go and fall. Life was harder and that was why I refused to fall.

I felt sick enough to die. The feelings were real and they could kill or give life. The feelings I suffered though ever day were the ones that were killing me. They were the feelings that make my heart skip a beat, my lungs skip a breath. That is where everything grew faint and hard to breath. That is when I knew that I was dying. My life was so close to being over and I couldn’t believe that it had only just begun. I was going to die.

That was it forever.

Consciousness found me and I noticed that the window was open, my hair blowing back over my shoulders as the wind kissed my face. There might not even have been a wind but at the speed we were driving it was fair to say that there was. The rumble of the zooming vehicle around us drowned out any other sound but that was okay; there wasn’t anything I wanted to hear, especially not the chatter of Amanda. I closed my eyes for just one fraction of a second and opened them to see a driver in the wrong lane. It was then that I knew our lives were over.

For no more than three seconds, my life was moving in slow motion and I saw the end, waiting for the moment when the two vehicles would collide. I had never thought slow motion could feel so eternally long. I kept hoping that maybe one of our vehicles would swerve and everything would turn out fine. It had to be just a thought in my head, had to be just a dream. It could not be real, could not happen. Hope was what had run out, and luck had given up on us as the seconds, all three of them, finally disappeared into what was called the past.

I saw faces, memories, all flashing before my eyes. My mother, her eyes, and then something that could only be described as regret filled me. I saw Tom, Clayton, and Spencer, thought of all the things that I would never be able to do. I saw Kyle, saw the way he had helped me and it was all for nothing. It was over. It was the end.

Why did it have to be like that? Just when I was finding my own peace, it had to be taken away from me. It was just the way things went, just the way they always would.

Three seconds was a very short amount of time, but it was long enough to know how to scream, how to cry, how to have a broken heart for all the mistakes and all the good times. It was by far long enough to have regrets, to realize what life was truly about. It was long enough to miss people, to understand what love was and to finally know how to show it.

Three seconds was a lifetime.

I dreamt. I did not dream – I lived the nightmare that my dazed and confused mind brought upon me. There was a sad music in my ears, and it tortured me. It was the last song I heard before my parents finalized the divorce, the song that got me through moving to Easthunt, and it would be the song played at my funeral.

There were too many emotions behind the lyrics, too many feelings and too many memories that I couldn’t rid myself of. There was far too much hurt that I had tried to escape but it always seemed to come crawling back. I would have given everything to know that I was free of his torture, but aside from my prayers, I could not escape the truth of reality, I could not get away. It was over.

I closed my eyes, felt the searing pain as the seat belt dug into my flesh.

And then all went dark.

All went silent.

But my eyes opened. There was a searing pain in the back of my head, and it hurt to breathe. The windshield could no longer be called a windshield for the glass was shattered, everywhere. I could see slightly out of the front end of the car, enough to know that the vehicle was totaled and useless.

Glancing to my left was Amanda, her body broken and bleeding. Her eyes were open, surprised. Her face was pale, losing the little color it had left as she went into shock.

I was swallowed by grief, as one more person died. Not again, not one more person that could have stayed alive. I let myself fall into the darkness of what could never be considered sleep. My nightmare came, again and again, torturing me.

There was no sleep, not that it mattered because I didn’t want to fall back into the pictures of my defiled dreams. Someone had to save me, had to take me away or wake me up. But no one came and so I closed my eyes one last time and hoped that the sleep would kill me.

I awoke, startled to find myself alive. It was a hallucination, just an image in my head. I faded back into sleep.