Page 21 of Damaged Boys Don't Fall For Bubbly Girls
He turns around.
A car that was zooming down the street slams into him. I watch in horror as he’s flung high in the air, looking like a broken doll. He crashes down on the ground with such a force that he’s instantly killed on impact.
My eyes pop open as tears slide down the sides of my face. I can’t remember what I wanted to tell him. But I called his name just as he was crossing the street, to safety. Because I distracted him, he didn’t see the car speeding down the street.
My world came crashing down in that moment. Time seemed to stand still. I remember yelling as loud as I could, dropping to the ground, and not being able to take my eyes off his mangled body.
The images and memory will stay with me forever.
Mom and Dad must have heard my shouts because they ran out of the house and saw what happened. Many people were gathered around Andy, including the driver, and they frantically called an ambulance. But it was no use. Andy was already dead.
All because of me. I called to him when he was in the middle of the street. Instead of letting him cross safely, I distracted him and he got hit by a car.
My parents held me in their arms, trying to comfort me. But they didn’t understand. No one understood what I had done. They took me inside, laid me in my bed, and stayed with me while I cried and cried and cried. I couldn’t forget what I saw or what I heard. Every time I shut my eyes, I could hear the sound of his body smashing onto the street.
Through my cries, I told my parents what I did, how he got hit by the car because of me, but they reassured me that it wasn’t my fault. It was just an accident. I refused to believe them because I knew it wasn’t true. I was so stupid—he was crossing thestreet. Why did I call after him?
I stayed in bed for days, refusing to talk or see anyone, not even Zoey who was so worried about me. I just didn’t want to exist anymore.
Lexi came over to comfort me a few days after the funeral, but I blamed her for Andy’s death. I yelled that she killed him. Because of her curse, the Universe or whatever made me do something stupid by calling after him and causing him to die. I was so hurt and such a mess that I blamed her. When I got older, I knew that it wasn’t true. Of course it wasn’t her fault. It was mine.Iwas the one who called after him and I still blame myself for it.
I stayed in bed for a few more days, wanting to disappear from the world. Zoey and my parents tried to talk to me, but nothing they did could help. Mom and Dad even tried to get professionals to talk to me, but nothing could comfort me. They decided it was best for me to go away for a bit, since the memories were so intense I couldn’t remain in Edenbury. Mom’s parents reassured them that they could help me, and I agreed to move because I didn’t want to stay in town a second longer.
A few days before I left, I forced myself to get out of bed and went to sit on the swings in the backyard of my house. This place always calmed me down when I was feeling rotten.
I didn’t swing. I just sat there, telling myself that going to Boston to live with my grandparents was a good thing. As much as I wanted to disappear from the world a few days before, I also didn’t. And I knew getting away was the only way to save me.
As I sat, a voice yelled my name.
“Brock?” Lexi calls in the distance. A few seconds later, she’s standing before me, biting her lower lip and a worried look on her face.
I force myself to ignore her, remembering the terrible things she said about Andy.
She lowers herself on the second swing, wringing her hands in her lap. “Brock, I know you hate me, but I just wanted to tell you—”
“I’m moving.”
“What?”
I keep my gaze on the grassy ground. “I’m moving. I’m going to live with my grandparents in Boston.”
“What? But…why?”
I shrug. “My mom and dad think it’s best I go away. I’m going to school there.”
“But for how long?”
“I don’t know.”
Before she has a chance to say anything else, I get up and go to my house, not looking at her once.
A few days later, I’m all packed and ready to go to the airport. My parents will fly with me to Boston, help me get settled in, and then they’ll fly back to Edenbury.
Zoey holds me close in her arms. “You’ll be okay,” she whispers. Drawing back, she looks into my eyes. “Focus on yourself and take care of yourself, okay? Promise me you will.”
I shrug.
She shakes me. “Promise, Brock.”
