Page 7 of Collided

“What?” Marie and Sebastian exclaim, making me grimace. There’s no way they missed it.

“Clumsy. I meant clumsy.” I correct, as if that’ll help my case in any way.

The damage can’t be undone, but good luck with that.

Marie shakes her head. “No! You saidpretty. You called her P-R-E-T-T-Y.” She spells it out as if my ears didn’t hear my mind betraying me.Fucking traitor.

“It was a mistake. I meant clumsy, silly girl.” Yes. I meant that. Not that other word from any fucking angle.

“No. I heard you.” Like her boyfriend, Marie folds her arms and fixes me with a calculated look. “You can’t take that back now. It’s set in stone.”

“I’ll set the stone on fire,” I say.

“You can’t do that. They are made of oxide which is—”

“I’m leaving.” Opening the door to my car, I get inside and switch on the engine. Just when my foot is about to press onto the accelerator a knock on the window stops me. I slide it down.

“It’s okay, you know,” Marie says softly. She tries to sprinkle sunlight on my dark life, but it doesn’t work. I’m a black hole that destroys it.

Marie started dating Sebastian last year, and I've spent enough time with her to tolerate her presence. She’s my best friend, and I care about her, especially when she’s been through so much. I’d protect her from the bad, and ruin anyone who tries to make her miserable—I did do that. I don’t show it often. I'm an angry, cold guy, but she knows me enough to not take my tough remarks to heart. She knows I’ll be there for her and it’s all that matters.

“It was an accident. Nothing more.”

“Some accidents are too good to not be coincidences.” Her gentle smile doesn't stop me from my crude reply.

“Nothing in my life is a coincidence. Everything is a fucking accident.”

I drive out of the school feeling my chest packed with the returning heaviness.

3

Hope

GETTING READY, I HEAD DOWNSTAIRS. Noise drifts out of the kitchen, which only means one thing. Mom is home. She’s a nurse and works five days. She has a four-day on-and-off schedule at one hospital, and an eight-hour shift at another which leaves only two days for her to relax and tend to house chores. I try to do most of them so she has time to rest, but the clean freak in her needs to redo everything.

She started working after Dad left. It’s a way for her to bury the worry and grief under work. I often find her staring at their wedding picture and her ring. They got married at a courthouse because my mother’s parents didn’t like my father. They thought he was a loser with no degree as he dropped out of college in his junior year—for reasons I still don’t know. However, Mom stuck by his side because she loved him.

She still cares about him, even though he tried to choke her to death, abused her mentally and physically, and hasn’t returnedto apologize or make up for his act. Maybe it’s a good thing that he hasn’t come back because she will take him back, especially after the drunk texts she sent me yesterday about missing him.

All I know about love is what I’ve read in books. What my parents have is a toxic bitter love. No man should ever hurt a woman, say mean things to her, or call her names. That’s not what love is.

“You’re home.”

She turns around and gives me a weak smile. “I have an hour before I leave.”

My mother is a brunette with the same shade of hair color as me. She has those rare gray eyes that lock you under their enchanting gaze the moment you look into them. She’s tall and has a svelte figure. Her round face has full pink lips and a small nose. She’s stunning. No wonder my father fell for her.

Mom hugs me. I hold onto her tightly. With no one in life, she’s the only person I’ve got.

“Seems like you missed me a lot,” she teases.

“Yes, I did.” Her schedule allows little time for me to see her.

She pulls back. “Quickly eat those pancakes, and make sure you eat both of them. I don't want you to faint in the hallways again.”

“That happened once.” I take a seat at the island and start eating.

When I was in middle school, I used to skip breakfast because it’d make me nauseous. One time, I skipped both dinner and breakfast. I was fine in the first two classes. My senses were coordinated, and I was paying attention to everything. By the third class, I had a headache, and my vision blurred. Before lunch break, I fainted in the hallway.