And other things can go wrong.
“Does it feel weird to be driving?” Shane asks me. “Since Everett was driving.”
I don’t want to answer him. I don’t want to engage in any more conversation with him. I turn up the music once more and focus on the road in front of me.
After a few minutes Shane says, “One time, Ev and I drove all the way to Lake Ontario.”
I glance over at him quickly, then put my eyes back on the road.
“Your parents didn’t know. Guess you didn’t either. It wasn’t long after he got his license. We just…got in the car and started driving. I think, at first, he was lost and didn’t want to admit it. But it was really fun. We saw the lake. We didn’t really do anything. I think we got something to eat then drove back home. I thought he was going to get in trouble using up all that gas, but I guess he didn’t.” He laughs. “God, we did some really random and boring shit back then, but it seemed like such a huge deal at the time, you know?”
Everett was pretty popular, athletic, the typical All-American boy next door, the kind you find in sitcoms and the dorky girls crush on. He mostly stayed out of trouble, and I can count on one hand the times he did anything rebellious—that I knowof at least—and even those things were typical of any teenager anywhere. But every once in a while, he’d get some wild notion to do something spontaneous, like take a drive somewhere, dye his hair maroon, learn the guitar, let Addison Wilcox pierce one of his ears, do a back flip off the porch railing into a kiddie pool, which almost got him a trip to the ER. It’s like he’d just get bored and before you knew it, Ev had done something. Just random. Out of nowhere.
So, I’m not surprised he just decided one day to drive him and Shane to Lake Ontario. But I am a little surprised, and a little hurt, he never told me about it. And never thought to take me along.
I see that the highway’s coming up, so I switch lanes to take the exit.
Shane says, “It’s not like there was a lot to do in Port Leyden anyway. You kind of just had to go somewhere else.”
“It’s still like that now.”
“Yeah. But, I mean, when you’re an adult there’s work and shit.” He pauses, head turning toward the window. “Nothing’s fun anymore.”
I almost tell him about Everett’s last email to me. About how he wasn’t so happy with his new adult life either. He’d majored in business, after starting college without a major at all, and quickly got some office job for an insurance company. It didn’t seem so bad at first, but then he just hated it.
Is this really all there is to life?He’d written to me.You just sit behind a desk until you get too old and die?
He’s not going to have to worry about sitting behind a desk anymore.
Or getting old.
My stomach knots up as I take the exit and my face heats, sweat forming on my skin. My pulse starts to race and there’s awhooshof blood in my ears. He’s never going to get old. He’llnever be as old as our dad. I get little flashes of the future that will never be—Ev and his wife and kids, I’m the fun uncle, and our parents take their grandkids to get ice cream on Sundays.
It’s never going to happen. No gray hairs. No wrinkles. No complaints about his joints and kids these days.
The thoughts are suffocating.
“Hey, you okay?” Shane asks softly.
I didn’t realize I was shaking so hard. I try to nod, but I feel like I can’t catch my breath. The Blazer swerves and Shane’s hand darts out, grabbing the steering wheel.
“Hey. Ethan.”
My heart’s pounding. I can’t catch my breath. Suddenly, my body feels like a prison I desperately need to escape from. I fumble for my pack of smokes.
“Ethan, it’s okay, just pull over here. Where that sign is.”
I don’t want to listen to him, but I do as he says, pull the Blazer over next to a pile of dirty snow and try to catch my breath. I’m vaguely aware of Shane getting out of the car and then the driver’s side door opening. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, and I’m too overwhelmed to shake it off.
His hand rubs up and down my arm. “It’s okay. My grandma used to have panic attacks.” The hand rubbing is oddly soothing, but tears spill down my cheeks anyway. I can hardly hear him over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. “It’s okay, Ethan. Just try to shift your thoughts. Try to think of things that begin with the letter B.”
I try to but my mind’s a whirling mess. Fuck, I didn’t think this would be so fucking hard.
“Say them out loud, Ethan. Here, I’ll start. Bears, bananas, boulders…”
He waits for me to continue, so I try to think of something, but I can’t.
“It’s okay, Ethan,” he says softly, squeezing my arm. “I’m right here.”
