Page 14 of Deep Gap

Byron kneels to greet his dogs. The girls eat up the attention the way they’d gobbled their dinner.

“I got the Christmas decorations out of the attic and the tree is in the stand.”

I appreciate how natural he’s acting. It’s as if I’m a normal friend, not the girl who can only get a pitiful job from the parents of her first love. Not the anxious passenger in the car. Not the broke woman with no place to go.

So it makes no sense when I sink to my butt next to Byron and blurt, “I kissed him—Ellis. The night he… died. I’d been holding out for him to see me as more than just his best friend. It was my first real kiss.”

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There’s a point between prom night and graduation that I remember living on endorphins. My emotional diet was the simultaneous feeling of being high as a kite at the idea of newfound freedom and abject panic. The anxiety, being the precipice of something new and undiscovered, was enough to make a guy want to throw up. Those short weeks compressed more of the highest of highs and the lowest of lows than I’d experienced to date all wrapped up in a tidy bow I’m now able to give a name to: Anxiety.

I drank and smoked and lied to my parents about situations I thought they’d never understand. Like stumbling late into a final with a pounding headache and hangover that lasted past when the teacher said, “pencils down.”

My dad and I spent a lot of time together the summer before I left for boot camp. He ran a small farm northwest of Fayetteville that I returned to when I was stateside and subsequently sold after my parents passed away as I was in no position to plow a field or harvest a crop. Though I have fond memories of growing up doing just that. Dad had done a short stint in the Army and our mirrored experiences were a natural opening to share stories of his youth that my parents protected my impressionable mind from as I was growing up.

So it doesn’t surprise me that the bulk of Greer’s teenage experiences were relatively the same as anyone else’s.

It also seems to me that, no different than driving in the sand on alert for an ambush, Greer spends every day walking a tight wire. At least I had Trig riding next to me. Other than the occasional nightmares—mine being less frequent and severe than Trig’s. Hence why I’m busting my ass, training Tallulah as the best emotional support animal possible—I’ve rarely worried the rope will snap.

After everything that went down today with the loud-mouthed schmuck at the store and Waylon lying that Greer was hustling men for sex, the tension must become unbearable.

I refuse to even think about the fact that Greer admitted that she was a virgin. The other part, about having a girlfriend doesn’t shock me. I suppose it does make me curious about her experience; something that’s none of my damned business.

The interest in who Greer is, the desire to spend time with her, and my reasons for not letting her go back to her apartment makes me aware I’m balancing too.

I like her. But is this one-sided attraction? Me wanting what I can’t have? Ignoring our age, Greer and I are still co-workers. And she likes women. But she kissed Karen and Mac’s son.

“My first kiss was a particularly bad round of seven minutes in heaven. We both had braces.” I motion my open palm over my face. “Terrified they’d get tangled, and we’d wind up lip locked,” I admit, though in all my years I’ve never actually met anyone who’d been a victim of this urban legend. “I hope kissing Ellis was better.”

The corner of Greer’s lip tips up ever so slightly and falls, recalling the memory. “We were best friends. He’d dated a few girls who I hated. I’m not sure if that’s why he didn’t get serious with them. Come senior year, both of us planned to go stag to the prom. School sold the tickets in pairs. For couples. So, we split the cost and wound up each other’s date.

“My mom took me shopping for dresses. I stood in front of the three-way mirror at the boutique, staring at myself in a ballgown, wondering if Ellis would kiss me. That’s when I realized I fell in love with Ellis all at once and over time. It didn’t even bother me that Ellis kissed someone before me. Everything about it was perfect. Just like he was.”

There’s a peace that settles over us. Greer is quiet, reflecting on her past. I won’t interrupt, holding out hope that she trusted me enough to reveal more. I’m rewarded for that patience when she continues.

“Afterwards, Ellis held my hand the rest of the night as if I’d always been his. And because I had. I would have done anything he asked just to be close to him. We were joined at the hip since the day we met. I had the most romantic notions that a single moment meant forever for us.” Greer scoffs. “I’m pretty sure that I pictured my mom crying at our wedding. But the next time I saw my mom, I was waking up in a hospital bed and her tears tore me apart.”

We’re shoulder to shoulder, facing out into the yard. The night has grown bitterly cold. Yet Greer doesn’t shiver.

My elbows rest on my knees with my hands clasped together. I turn to look at her, seeing both her youth and the faint lines stress has left marring the skin surrounding her eyes. She’s so tired of living with constant unease. Being unable to sleep without waking to despair. Holding onto the fear of retribution instead of hope for a better future.

I wonder who else knows the rest of the story. If she tells it to me, will it lighten the load she’s carrying?

Though defensive over what she endured today, I soften my jaw and recall her graceful movements through the bee shop. God, this afternoon seems further away than happening today.

“How did the accident happen?”

Greer meets my gaze. “We went to an after party. I drank because Ellis was drinking. I drove because he’d had more than me, and I didn’t want anything to happen to his car. He’d bought it with his own money. Karen or Mac would take it away if they found out we’d had alcohol. I was too caught up in the night to even consider I’d take even more from them. The police said the skid marks proved I swerved on a straightaway, but no one figured out why. In the hospital, I couldn’t remember and it’s not like the reason would change the outcome.” She shakes her head. “I wrapped the passenger side around a tree. Ellis died on impact.”

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I wish it was me that died. But if it had to be Ellis, I wish my penance included both of us. I’ve thought about how that would’ve torn two families apart losing both their children. But hadn’t I done that, anyway?

After the accident, lawyers advised Karen and my mom to only speak through them. Attorneys cost money. My dad’s thriving HVAC business failed. People would rather burn through a hellish summer than give their paychecks over to the father of a murderer. My parents moved out of Brighton, to a place where no one recognized they had a daughter convicted of DUI and vehicular manslaughter. They had to rebuild from the ground up.

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