At times, I was watching myself drift away. I wanted to pull myself back, force my body back in my own, but I couldn’t. I just watched it go. And at others, I was hearing what he was saying, but I couldn’t connect to anything.
A part of me felt untethered from my body, while the other was watching that disconnected part teeter over the edge. So close yet I couldn’t feel a thing.
I was just there.
I was told to sit out of today’s game and this coming weekend. Not too long ago, I would’ve fought against doing so. While baseball sometimes made me feel guilty, it was one of the two things I had that gave me purpose.
Now that I don’t have her, they could kick me off the team and I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“This isn’t nothing.” She grabs my hand. “This is your health. You matter, Danny, and I’m tired of you pretending like everything is fine. I know since Adrian?—”
“Dad doesn’t care. He pretends to care but he doesn’t. You know that. He blames me for what happened to Adrian. You were there! You heard him say it. So why would he care now? When he hasn’t since then.”
We were in high school. He was a freshman, and I was a sophomore. It was spring break. One of our friend’s parents on our baseball travel team invited Adrian and me to go to the beach with them. Dad and Mom wouldn’t let us go at first. They’d never been fans of us spending the night at other people’s houses, so going away for an entire week was definitely a no. But eventually we wore them down after begging and having our friend’s parents ask them. They were hesitant, but they had rules, rules we swore we’d follow. They made me promise as the older sibling, to take care of him, make sure he didn’t do anything stupid or act out.
I did everything until they went jet skiing. I was supposed to go, but I’d gotten a cramp and needed to sit it out. I didn’t want Adrian to go because he’d be in the ocean, but he promised to keep his life jacket on, and our friend and his older brothers said he’d be all right.
The life jacket was faulty; the straps came off, and somehow he fell off. He panicked and they tried to grab him, but he wasflailing his arms and freaking out. The waves just happened to be stronger that day and it kept pulling him back.
Everyone acted quickly; the lifeguard got to him and took him out of the water. My friend’s parents held me back while I screamed at the lifeguard to save him, to not stop doing CPR.
Mom and Dad got the call and the moment they showed up, Dad said, “It’s your fault,” “I should’ve gone with him,” and “I shouldn’t have let him go.” He repeated that over and over.
A lot happened that day, but I remember everything. Dad’s words, most of all.
“I know.” Her eyes glisten. “But I know he didn’t mean it. He’s sorry. I know he is. You have to talk to him and Mom. You have to tell them how you feel. You have to?—”
“This just isn’t about Adrian.Shebroke up with me.”
She reels back, eyes triple in size. “What? But I thought—what happened? Oh Danny, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Angel didn’t tell me that.”
It was Angel?
“It’s not her fault. I said things I regret, things I didn’t mean. I’m so stupid. She was already going through it, and I just had to—” My eyes burn. “I need to be alone. I don’t need them here. I don’t need anyone here. I need you leave me alone, Penelope, because I’m fucking losing my mind and I can’t—I need to be alone,” I beg and drop back in the bed, lifting the comforter over my head. “For once, just listen to me. I just want to be alone.”
There’s a loud silence, the kind I hadn’t heard since Adrian, and although I shouldn’t, I drown in it. I let myself fall deeper in the void and ignore what she’s saying, if she’s saying anything at all.
I just let myself drift away.
54
DANIEL
April 3rd
There’sa muted knock on my door and an indistinct voice; I think it’s Coach D’Angelo, but I’m not sure because my back is facing the door, and my foggy gaze is pinned to the wall.
I blink but otherwise I don’t move. I stay still, gripping my comforter close to my body, letting it shield me from everything.
“Danny…you…” His voice comes and goes. It sounds distant and there’s an echo to it. “Danny, how are you?” I think he asks again.
Why is he here? I just want to be alone. Is that too much to ask?
Closing my eyes, I murmur words, hoping they’re enough so he’ll leave me alone. “I’m fine. Just resting like Dr. Emerson suggested.”
There’s a heavy dip in my bed. I think he’s sitting, but I don’t turn to look. He heaves a heavy sigh, but he doesn’t speak. At least I think he doesn’t. I’m not sure, and my mind is floating again. Everything feels distorted, and the connection between my brain and body isn’t there.
“—leave of absence.”
