“They’re from stuff we went to together,” Landon said bitterly. “You probably don’t even remember half of them. There’s shows in there from high school, okay? Like the first time you ever saw DJ Quigs. I was with you. We did that together. I’ve even got our class photo from seventh grade. We were in the same homeroom.”
Noah cringed. “You really kept all this stuff?”
“Yeah. That’s what you do when you’re supposed to be friends!” Landon crossed his arms. “You remember stuff. You wanna hold on and keep some memories, okay? I thought… I thought it was important.”
Oh, Noah was such an asshole. The level of dedication was a little creepy, sure, but it was obvious Landon had truly treasured their friendship while Noah had taken it for granted. “This is cool, man. I mean it. I… I like it.”
“Yeah, well, good. You can keep it.” Landon turned his head. “I don’t need it anymore. I just want you to remember when I was there for you, okay? Every single time that I was with you. And you… you suck. A lot.”
“I’m really sorry,” Noah said, wishing he knew something else to say. “I know I fucked up, I did. I was a complete bastard, and I know I hurt you, and—”
“Goodbye, Noah.” Landon finally met Noah’s eyes, his own filling with tears. “Please don’t text me again. Don’t try to call me. I’m done with you. Just… stop.”
Before Noah could try to say anything else, Landon left.
That was it.
He rushed right out, and Noah was left alone with a shoebox of memories in his lap.
“Well. Fuck.”
“I heard that,” Alistair teased as he reentered the room, setting down their glasses on the table before rejoining Noah on the sofa. “I am going to assume it did not go well?”
“No.” Noah grabbed his glass and wished it had alcohol in it. “It did not. He didn’t wanna listen to anything I said. He… He just dumped off this stupid box, called me a dickwad, and bounced.”
“That’s very unfortunate, but I do appreciate your efforts to repair the damage between you.” Alistair placed a warm hand on Noah’s knee. “There are some relationships, however, that simply cannot be repaired.”
“Like you and Roderick?” Noah asked quietly.
Alistair seemed taken aback by the comparison, but he said, “Yes. It is possible for two people to care about each other very much but also know that it’s not healthy to be a part of one another’s lives after a certain point.”
“I guess I’m not healthy for Landon then. I really had no idea he cared so damn much about me. I mean, look at all this.” Noah thumbed through the various papers so Alistair could see. “It’s crazy.”
“He was very, hmm, enthusiastic.”
“That’s a damn word for it. Ha. I mean…” Noah trailed off when he found a paper-clipped stack of newspaper clippings. They were yellowed with age, and the headline on the first one made his blood freeze.
Drunk Driving Accident Claims Four Lives
“What’s wrong?” Alistair asked.
“This. It’s about my parents.” Noah swallowed audibly. “It’s the wreck they were in.”
There was a picture of a mangled mess of metal at an intersection, barely recognizable as cars. Although it was grainy and faded, Noah swore he knew which one belonged to his parents. He flipped to the next article, reading the haunting headline:
DUI Suspect Killed, Wife Dies In Hospital
And another.
Allan Family Left Grieving Tragic Accident
And then another.
Moultrie Couple Killed in DUI Collision
At around 3:30 AM on Saturday, authorities responded to a collision at the corner of Ford Avenue and Six Forks Road. Matthew and Jane Allan collided with Norman and Sylvia Thompson when the Allans’ vehicle did not stop at a red light. Mrs. Allan was transported for emergency treatment, Mr. Allan was pronounced dead on scene. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson were also pronounced dead at the scene, and…
Noah stopped reading and pushed the box away. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he hissed softly, “Fuck. I can’t…” He was afraid to speak, certain he was going to cry. He bowed his head and leaned into Alistair.
