Page 116 of Holding On

He lets out a breath. "Yeah."

I hesitate, wanting to see him but not sure which Ethan I'll get if I go over there. My desire to see him wins out.

"Okay, I'll be there a little after four."

"Great! See you soon."

He sounds better than yesterday but still seems off. Maybe he got in a fight with his parents, or maybe his coach. Or maybe his leg is bothering him.

By the time I finish cleaning for the day, I'm late getting to Ethan's place. It's four-thirty and I have to leave at five for my shift at The Chicken Shack. I long for the day when I only have one job.

"Hi." Ethan greets me at the door, a solemn look on his face. But he doesn't seem angry like he did yesterday. More like depressed.

"You okay?" I ask, knowing he's not but wanting to see what he'll say.

We go inside and he pulls me into his chest. "I missed you."

"It was only a day."

"I know." He says it like he's concerned. Like missing me after a day is a problem. I kind of feel the same way. I shouldn't miss him after just a day but I did.

This is getting too serious too fast. I feel like pulling away but haven't been able to do it. There's something about Ethan that keeps drawing me to him, and him to me.

We go sit on the couch and I turn to face him. "I have to leave soon so if you'd rather talk later than now, I can call you after work tonight."

"I'd rather just tell you now."

"Then go ahead."

He takes a deep breath. "I was acting that way yesterday because..." He looks down. "Because Kasey's sister called."

Kasey. The girl who died in the crash, at least I assume that's who he means.

"What did she say?"

"She asked about the accident." He pauses. "She wanted to know details, like if Kasey was...in pain." He closes his eyes and squeezes the bridge of his nose.

Now it makes sense why Ethan was acting that way yesterday. He was sad, but hiding his sadness with anger. Mike does that too sometimes. Must be a guy thing.

I rub his arm. "Ethan, I'm sorry. I can only imagine how hard that was for you, having to remember that night."

He opens his eyes but keeps them aimed at the couch. "The memories were one thing. But hearing Emily...that's her sister's name...hearing her crying on the phone." He takes another deep breath. "Fuck."

I link my hand with his and hold it tight. "What did you tell her?"

He shakes his head. "I told her it was quick. That Kasey didn't feel anything. But I don't think it's true. The girls—both of them—were screaming." He shuts his eyes like he's seeing that night replayed in his mind, his face contorted with pain.

"Ethan, stop." I squeeze his hand. "Open your eyes."

He does, but says, "It doesn't help. I still see it. I see Kasey's body being thrown around as the SUV flips over. And I still hear it. I hear their screams." He looks at me. "She had to have felt pain, at least for a few seconds, right? I mean, she wouldn't have been screaming unless she was in pain."

"I don't know," I say softly. "She could've been screaming because she was scared."

A distant look comes over his face. "Why didn't I make her sit next to me? Why didn't I make her wear her seatbelt?"

"Ethan, look at me." I lift his face to mine and our eyes meet. "It wasn't your fault."

"I let her sit on my lap. I encouraged it. We were making out and I wasn't even thinking about her safety. What does that say about me?"

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