Twenty-Seven

Brian

The way Lizzie looked when I got back — from the horrors of teaching a teen how to drive stick — it was obvious she'd been crying. Her excuse of pickle juice in the eye would have gotten me any other day, but the way her smile lacked its usual mischief spoke to her true emotions. Something happened while I was gone and I couldn't figure out what.

Did the memories of our past trigger her in some way? Was being inside this home too much for her?

The way she cut short with me, almost avoiding me completely, scared me. She was so angry, ready to peel out of my driveway like a bat out of hell. It was her answer to my question at the end that confirmed my suspicions. She doesn't want to see me, but why?

My mind was replaying our interactions before, and after, the lesson as I entered my home. I placed my keys on the hook near my door and headed for the office, trying to see if perhaps the Sims set her off in some way. Maybe she went to create her family and got stuck on whether or not to make Lyle. Or maybe she did make Lyle. But, again, why would that make her mad at me?

My brows were practically touching one another over the bridge of my nose when I entered the office. I was so deep in thought that I hadn't noticed it when I first walked in. It wasn't until I was sitting in front of my computer screens that I saw the email, saw the tears on my desk, and felt my world crashing down.

His emails. The ones I never dared to open, because I knew if I did, I would have replied and opened that door again. She saw them.

I was ready to hurl as I thought of how furious she was with me. I never told her about these, and I doubt Lyle did by the way she reacted. In all honesty, I'd forgotten about them. I spent so long ignoring them that his folder just blurred into the background, something I didn't notice anymore.

The email she clicked on was still open, forcing me to see what I had ignored for years — his words. It was the last sentence that pierced my heart the most. Pressure off his chest. Was that the chest pain? Did he mean it metaphorically? Would he be alive if I had answered his emails sooner?

The what ifs of the world were crippling me as I began to fall into a dark abyss. Unable to keep myself from plunging deeper into my guilt, I clicked on the next email and then the next, over and over, until hours had passed and all three-hundred plus emails were read. All the pictures were seen, all his words now in my memory…all of them.

It was me who had tears down my cheeks, consumed by the gut-wrenching guilt swirling inside of me. I ignored him and his many attempts to speak with me, and for what? I could have used him — could have used them both — when Sam died. Sam told me to reach out to them, and I almost did, but then she died and everything felt useless…felt unnecessary, just like life.

I should have reached out. I should have replied.

I was growing exponentially furious with myself. So many regrets plagued me…so fucking many. My biggest, something I could never take back, was not responding to him. I would never be able to repair our friendship. He's gone and he has no idea how much he meant to me.

Lyle would never know that he was my first real best guy friend. He would never know that I appreciated the way he saved me from myself freshman year. The big guy would never understand how grateful I was to have him as a friend when I fell so deep into my depression. He didn't know he was the reason for it, he and Lizzie, but he kept me from doing stupid shit all the same.

He punched me right in the jaw when I got blackout drunk again, ending my drinking problem senior year. I remembered that night so clearly, despite my inebriated state.

19 years ago

"Here you go." Karl handed me another beer. At least I thought it was a single one, considering he didn't have three arms. I just had to guess which one was the correct one.

I picked the middle one, feeling cool glass against my palm. Ha, grabbed the right one.

We were three months from graduation and yet another senior party had graced the social calendar. According to Amber — the next cheer captain when Danielle finally leaves the four walls she claimed as her kingdom — there was to be a party every weekend. I planned to attend each one alone.

Lizzie wasn't one to party, and with Lyle being glued to her at all times, it was hard to catch him at these things anymore. I was safe here. Safe from seeing those two love on one another. Safe from having my heart torn into further. Honestly, I wasn't even sure it was there anymore. I hadn't felt anything in so long, I'd become this dead kind of numb.

"Thanks." I chugged the beer, always having hated the taste. Chugging was the only way I could tolerate it.

I stumbled away from the kitchen, bottle in hand and half downed already. What number was this? Five?

"Hey, Brian." One of the volleyball girls batted her lashes at me as she waved with her fingers.

"Wassup?" I gave her a chin lift, feeling nonchalant about the sudden uptick in female interest towards me.

I guess everyone had thought I was with Lizzie. With her gone and my mohawk no longer scaring others away, the girls had come flocking. I never thought of myself as good looking, but maybe I was.

"Want to dance?" Her eyebrows did a quick suggestive raise as I let her take my hand and lead me to the dance floor that was really AJ's living room with the furniture scooted away.

I was drinking my beer as she danced in front of me, bending forward so that her ass was pressed against my groin. She was teasing me, flirting with me. A quick hook up I could do, but anything more and I'd lose it.

Hours passed and I could hardly keep my eyes open with how much I'd drunk. I couldn't say what number of beers I was on, let alone what shot number. Volleyball girl liked it when I took body shots off her, so here I was, taking yet another one.

The room spun so much I fell back, landing on an empty recliner as the crowd thinned due to the late hour. I laughed despite the worried looks. I shook it off, waving away their concerns with an "I'm fine. Just a little lightheaded. Keep going."

No high schooler needed to be told twice to keep the party alive, so they didn't pay me any mind after that. My arms felt heavy and my head so light I wasn't sure it was still attached to my body.

**Song Suggestion: "Brother" by Kodaline**

"Where is he?" I heard a familiar voice over the low hum of the music.

I caught sight of him just as I was pointed out by another party goer. His eyes locked with mine, full of pity I didn't want.

"Who called the fun police?" I rolled my eyes as Lyle marched towards me, looking ready to throw me over his shoulder.

"I'm taking you home, Brian."

"I'm fine, Lyle. Go away." I motioned for him to leave, to go back where he came from. "Go back to Lizzie."

"She sent me."

Talk about being punched in the gut.

"Oh, did she?" I scoffed, not believing him, or not wanting to, really.

"She's waiting in the Jeep, and she's pissed."

"Whatever."

He's bluffing.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

He turned, leaving through the door he entered from. I relaxed into the recliner, feeling ready to vomit. I drank too much. Volleyball girl gave up on me, as I was probably too drunk for her taste. But, really, what did I care?

"Brian Lee Walker!" I heard her voice yell out the same way a mother's would when she was angry with her child.

I blanched as I saw Lizzie enter and stomp her way towards me. There were already snickers and whispers my way, causing me to heat with embarrassment. Lizzie never cared enough about others' opinions to be embarrassed.

"Get your little happy ass up and let's go! I'm not doing this shit here." She pointed to the door like I was some dog that needed to follow her command.

I was going to protest, but by the way her eyes were glistening like she was about to cry, I couldn't help but do what she said. I fell back down when I tried to get up, too off balance to stay straight. Next thing I knew, my arm was draped over Lizzie as she helped me up and walked me to the door.

"Get a fucking life and stop watching!" She yelled at everyone before slamming the door shut behind us.

The fresh air helped ease the nausea as we walked, keeping the alcohol in my stomach where I liked it. She led me to the Jeep where Lyle was waiting, leaning against the hood.

"I told you," was all he had to say as Lizzie let me go. I fell back on my ass, landing on the small incline at the edge of AJ's property.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked me, her eyes so full of worry. But it was the disappointment in them that really got to me.

"Doing what Lizzie?"

"This!" She gestured to all of me, exasperated with my antics. I only shrugged, pretending not to care.

"What's it matter to you?"

I think I said something I wasn't supposed to, because she suddenly went silent. When I looked in her direction again, she was seething, or maybe deeply hurt. I really couldn't tell.

"You matter to me. You know that."

"Do I?"

She was taken aback, stepping away in surprise, almost as if my words themselves struck her. "You're being an ass."

"Get up." Lyle was the next to speak, those green eyes searing into my own.

"What?"

"Get up, Brian. I don't want to punch you while you're down."

"What?!" Lizzie and I both questioned in unison.

I thought I'd heard him wrong, being so damn drunk, but nope. She had heard it, too. Lyle didn't wait for me to get up on my own. He picked me up by the collar of my shirt and stood me straight on my feet. He gave me a moment to balance myself before his fist slammed into my jaw. He didn't pull back on his punches…ever.

"What's your problem?!" I yelled, barely catching myself with a step back. My hand instinctually rubbed at the sore spot, staring at him with all the drunk fury in the world. I was ready to brawl with him, to defend myself and throw back, but when I looked at him he was standing straight again. He wouldn't throw another punch.

"That's for thinking we don't care." He pulled down at the hem of his shirt, fixing himself as he took a step towards me. "And this is for thinking we would let you keep doing this to yourself."

His large arms wrapped around my shoulders, pinning me in a tight hug with his big-bear self.

"I know I'm the drunk one, but I'm pretty sure you have that backwards. Hug for thinking you don't care, and punch for drinking, no?"

He laughed in my ear, still holding me tight. "Nah. I did it right."

Lizzie caught my eye behind him, doing her best to hold back the tears I could clearly see in them.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Something tugged at my hollow chest, reminding me there was still a heart there. I couldn't keep doing this…couldn't keep living like this. I needed an escape that wasn't going to slowly kill me.

I needed to leave Willowbrook.

Present

I knew she had told me eventually when I asked if I'd see her later, but fuck eventually. Neither of us are guaranteed tomorrow, and like hell I would let her go to bed angry with me. I was going to make this right tonight!

I climbed onto her roof again, seeing her curled at the foot of her bed through her window. It was obvious she'd been crying. I knew as much when I made my way here. It was me and my stupid self that had triggered her — angered her. When I saw something reflective catch the light in her hand, I panicked, opening the window so fast I almost broke it.

She turned in fear, not expecting me to come. My fears eased when I saw the item in her hand wasn't a blade at all but a large silver watch. A watch that was more than likely Lyle's. Her eyes were hard as stone when she stared at me, but not a single word left her lips.

Was this the silent treatment? Would this be how she handled things? That's fine with me. I only need her to listen.

"Elizabeth Wallace." I used her maiden name, because it was the name we grew up with. I didn't want to belittle her marriage, but she needed to hear that she wasn't Foster anymore, and that was okay. "You are my world. You are my love and my life. There's no way in hell I'm not going to talk this out with you."

"Get out." Her voice was quiet, but her eyes blazed with fire as she stood up so fast I was sure she would tackle me.

"No. I'm not leaving until we talk!"

"Talk?!" She didn't bother to keep quiet, shouting as she waved her right arm at me. "You mean like how you talked to Lyle? Great, then I'll be you and you can be Lyle."

She sat back down, arms crossed with a pout on her face. She resembled a small child throwing a tantrum, but she had every right to. I wouldn't deny that.

"You're right. Trust me. I know you're right." I sighed, feeling the same guilt from earlier gnawing away at me. "But I can't take it back, Lizzie. No matter how much I wish I could, I can't."

"No, Brian. You don't get to just say that and be forgiven. That's not how this works. You ignored him for eighteen years, disregarded his efforts and told me nothing about it." Her body was shaking, so full of anger and sorrow, it was hard to miss. All I wanted to do was pull her close and tell her everything would be okay, but I was the one who made her feel this way.

"I know that, Lizzie. I promise you, I do. There's nothing on this earth I wish I could change more than the fact I ignored you both for so many years. It will always be my biggest regret, and I can't fix that. I don't know what to do or what to say to you. All I know is that I'm not leaving here until you tell me how to make this right."

She was silent again, contemplating or maybe festering in her anger. Her nose was this adorable red at the tip as tears streaked her cheeks. I waited, staring right into the golden flecks that swam in her bright hazel eyes, searching for something that would give me hope. She'd forgive me, right?