Page 110 of Holding On

"And that's where you met?"

"Yes."

"So you didn't really know her."

"Not really." I'm sure that's not what her sister wants to hear but it's the truth. "I mean, we talked at the party so I was starting to get to know her but..."

"And she seemed happy? Do you think she was happy?"

"Yeah. She was. She was smiling and dancing and hanging out with her friends."

"And you asked her out?"

"Um, yeah." Actually Kasey asked me out, or rather threw herself at me, but it sounds better to say I asked her out.

"Do you think she's okay?"

What the hell? Of course she's not okay. She's dead. I don't know how to answer that.

Before I can, Emily says, "She's in heaven so she has to be okay, right?"

"Yeah. She's definitely okay. More than okay." I pause. "Emily, have you talked to someone about this? A counselor?"

"Yes, but I needed to talk to you. I needed to know it was fast and that she wasn't in pain."

"She wasn't. I promise." I shouldn't say that, knowing it's a lie, but I can't tell her the truth. And honestly, I don't know how long Kasey was in pain. It couldn't have been very long. She was unconscious when the SUV finally stopped.

"And she was...on you?"

Shit, is she serious? Does she really expect me to relive this? The worst memory of my life? I'll never get those images out of my head and I definitely don't want to talk about them.

"Emily, I'm sorry but I can't go into details. I'm still dealing with this myself and remembering it only makes things worse."

She sniffles. "I understand."

"How are your parents doing?"

I've been thinking about Kasey's parents since the accident. Wondering how they're doing. Wondering if they blame me for Kasey's death. They know she was on my lap instead of buckled into her seat.

"My mom's seeing a counselor but Dad won't go. He's not comfortable talking to someone. He deals with it on his own."

"I know I said it before but I'm really sorry, Emily. I can't imagine how hard this is for you and your parents."

"I just don't understand why she wasn't wearing her seatbelt. Not that it would've mattered, but maybe it would have. I mean, you survived so maybe she could have too."

Why didn't I make Kasey wear her seatbelt? I ask myself that every day and the only answer I can come up with is that I liked her on my lap. We were kissing and she was grinding against my crotch and I liked it. I wasn't thinking of her safety. I was thinking with my dick, and doing so caused her to die. If I hadn't been such a selfish bastard, if I'd been thinking about Kasey and her safety, she might be alive right now.

"I guess I should let you go," Emily says. "Thanks for talking to me."

"Sure." I don't tell her she can call me again because honestly, I don't want her to. Maybe that's wrong, but I can't talk about the accident. I can't keep reliving it.

I lie down on the couch, memories of that night flashing in my head. I can see Kasey before the crash, smiling, laughing, kissing me. And then, in mere seconds, she's gone. If I'd just had her sit beside me, she might have survived. Why didn't I insist she wear her seatbelt? What the hell was I thinking?

There's a knock on the door. I check the clock and see that it's after four. How did it get so late? I haven't even had lunch. I've just been on this couch, reliving that night, wanting to punch myself for how stupid I was to let Jason drive. I should've taken his keys. If I had, none of this would've happened. They'd all still be here.

There's another knock and then the doorbell rings.

"Who is it?" I yell.

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