Crashing Into You Read online

  “I understand! I really appreciate it, sir—”

  “Sydney.” Evan grabbed my arm. “What the fuck.”

  “Excuse me?” I flung my arm away from him, and shifted to the other end of the stool.

  “What are you doing? Ever since I picked you up tonight, you've been acting so weird. And now you're sucking down mixed drinks? Is this the real you, or have I been dating someone else?”

  The waiter brought me a second Jack and Coke, much to my delight. I took two big gulps, and set the glass down. “You would know, wouldn't you?”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” Evan asked.

  “You like when there’s different versions of people out there, don't you, Evan? If one dies, no big deal. Just move on to the next.”

  He put his hands up in the air, stupefied. “Okay, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  I tapped my fingers against the counter, then pushed my second drink to the side. “I figured you wouldn't. Listen. I don't think I can do this anymore.”

  “You can’t do what?”

  I sighed. I couldn't play this game for another second. “I saw you!” I took a long pause, and let the three words seep into his skull. “Okay? I saw you with Michelle.”

  “What? When?”

  “Today, dumbass!”

  He crossed his arms, and sat upright. “Today? How? You don't even have classes on Friday.”

  “I don't, but I had to get my parking registration, I told you that on the phone. You lied to me, Evan. You said you were at your internship all day.”

  “I was. I mean, I wasn't lying...” He licked his lips, a touch frantically, and said, “The office closed at noon today, so I had the afternoon free.”

  “So instead of calling me, you went and hung out with Melanie, part two.”

  “Melanie, part what?”

  “You heard me.” I took the last gulp of the drink, and looked him straight in the eye. “Are you having sex with her?”

  He glanced at the other patrons. People were starting to stare at us. “Syd, we shouldn't be talking about this here—”

  “So you are. You know what?” I pushed away from the stool and headed to the exit door. “You can eat by yourself. I’m going home.”

  “Syd, wait!” He threw some cash on the counter and followed me outside.

  My feet struck the rocky gravel that ran up alongside busy Pico Boulevard. I started marching, toward a bus stop, a cab, anything that would take me away from this place.

  “Syd, come on,” Evan said, and reached for my arm. I swatted him away, but he stayed close behind. “Come on, don’t do this.”

  “Stay away from me,” I said.

  “It’s not what you think! Michelle and I are just friends. I love you.”

  I finally stopped, and spun around. I stared into his eyes, and said, “She looks… just like Melanie.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  “I mean, exactly the fucking same. Do you understand that?”

  Evan pushed his hands against his hips. “Well… she got that haircut...”

  I ignored his comment. “How do you think that makes me feel, Evan? The only reason I get to even be with you, is because Melanie died. And it sickens me.” My eyes welled up with tears. I tried to suppress them, but with no luck. “And it’s made this really hard. Because every time you look at me, I wonder if you’re wishing she was alive, if you're wishing I was her.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

  “And now, with her sister around, it’s like my worst nightmare realized. You want Melanie back... and there she is. It's like she never left.” A tear trickled down my cheek. I turned my head, and wiped it away.

  “Hey,” he said. “Hey, come here.” He pulled me close. “I loved Melanie. But now I love you. And when we're together, and when we're not together, all I think about is you. I promise.”

  I still couldn’t look him in the eyes. I glanced to my right, at all the cars rushing past. They were a big, scary blur.

  “You say that, Evan… but…”

  “I’ll prove it to you, okay? I was trying to be Michelle's friend. She's been through a lot this summer, and I wanted to reach out and be someone she could turn to. But if me spending time with her makes you uncomfortable, then... it's over.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that. I'll tell her I don't want to see her anymore. You're the one I love, Syd. And I don't want to lose you.”

  “Evan...” The whole world was spinning. I blinked a few times, tried to focus on something. I looked at the traffic light up ahead. “You don’t have to do that just for me.”

  “I want to. I want to make this work between us.”

  The cars passed by faster and faster. The signal in the distance turned from green to red. “Oh Evan…”

  He smiled. “What?”

  “I’m gonna... I'm gonna throw up.”

  I ran to a bed of bushes on the other side of the gravel and dropped to my knees. I gripped the sharp wire fence in front of me, opened my mouth wide, and spewed all over the ground. I upchucked once, twice, three times.

  I fell to my back, and peered up at the smoggy evening stars.

  “Syd?” Evan said, crouching down beside me. “Oh God, are you all right? Let me help you up.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Just give me a minute.”

  I put my arms above my head and stared up at the sky. After a few serene seconds, Evan hunched over me, and blocked my view. His face was all blurry.

  He could have been anyone.

  Chapter 31

  Monday.

  I rolled over and reached out for Evan. Pressed my hand on the other pillow, on the opposite side of the bed. But he wasn’t there.

  I started my morning with a shower, then got dressed and headed out to the kitchen for breakfast. Lukas was already at the table, reading his Entertainment Weekly and eating his typical sugar-loaded cereal.

  I heated myself up some oatmeal and took a seat across from him. “So where have you been all weekend? I haven't seen you.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” He didn’t look up at me.

  “You been busy?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Yeah?” I asked. “With anyone in particular?”

  He finally shifted his gaze from the magazine to me. His face turned an adorable red. “Maybe…”

  I had been wishing all week that they would get back together. I so wanted Lukas to be happy. But I still needed confirmation. “Yeah? You and Robert wouldn't have a date tonight, would you?”

  He put his spoon down. When he smiled, a yellow moon marshmallow glistened from his front two teeth. “It is Monday, isn’t it?”

  “Oh my God! Lukas!” I jumped out of my chair and gave him a big, violent hug. “I’m so happy for you!”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’m really happy, too.”

  “You guys are perfect for each other.” I sat back down, and pushed my bowl aside. I was too excited to eat. “If you hadn’t worked things out with Robert, I would have given up hope for all romance in this world, I swear.”

  “Yeah, we had a good chat on Saturday. I couldn't really feel him out at first, but then the conversation led to some kissing, and then that led to more kissing...”

  I grinned, and leaned forward against the table. “So you're not on a break anymore.”

  “Of course not,” he said. "We're in the best place we've ever been.” And then Lukas did something he rarely ever did: he got up, and hugged me. “Thank you, Sydney.”

  “Me? For what?”

  “You know. For getting me to come to my senses. If I'd messed up what I had with Robert...” He stepped back, and grabbed hold of my hands. “Guess what I told him yesterday.”

  It took me a few seconds. But then it came to me. “No. You didn’t.”

  He nodded. “I told him I loved him.”

  “Oh my God, Lukas.” I wrapped my arms around him, again, and this time pressed my face against
his bony chest. “That's amazing. What’d he say?”

  “He said he loved me, too.” I looked up, just in time to see his eyes sparkle with a teary glaze.

  I shook my head, and said, “You’ve wanted this for so long. No one deserves this more than you. You know that, right?”

  He bit down on his lower lip, and blushed.

  I grabbed my bowl and dropped it in the sink. “We should totally celebrate tonight. I was thinking I’d make a salmon pasta dish, I’ve had that fish in the freezer since the day we moved in…”

  “Uhh, but it’s Monday, remember?”

  My eyes widened. “Oh! That's right, you’ve got your date.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Wouldn't want to break tradition.”

  “You know it.” Lukas glanced at the clock on the wall and headed toward his bedroom. “It's almost nine, you about ready?”

  “Yep! I'm all set.”

  He grabbed his backpack and a long-sleeved shirt, then returned to the main hallway. Instead of walking to the door, however, he started inspecting the living room, started looking under each piece of furniture.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Have you seen my umbrella? I thought I put it over by the lamp.”

  “I haven’t seen it, no. What do you need an umbrella for?”

  “Have you looked outside? It's supposed to rain today.” He glanced at me, from the other side of the room. “You’re not wearing that, are you?”

  I looked down. I had on a light blue tank top over a tight pair of black jeans. As he continued searching, I walked up to the sliding door past the sofa. He was right; the clouds were black and foreboding, a promise of a downpour in their wake.

  “Perfect day for a movie,” I said.

  “What was that?” Lukas asked.

  “Nothing.”

  I returned to my bedroom, slipped my dorky pink LMU sweatshirt over my tank top. I picked up my bag from my nightstand, and double-checked that I hadn't forgotten my theology paper.

  “All right, I’m ready,” I said, and approached the front door.

  “Fuck. I can’t find it.” He pushed against the center of his glasses and took one last look behind the sofa. “Let's hope it doesn't start pouring. Maybe we'll get lucky.” He picked up his backpack and threw it over his shoulder. “So what about you? How are things with Evan?”

  I bit down on my tongue for a moment, then said, “They’re… interesting.”

  “Good, interesting?”

  I shrugged. “I'm not really sure yet.”

  On the drive to campus, I told Lukas about all the drama with Evan and Michelle. He stayed quiet most of the time, and just listened. When I told him Evan and I hit a rough patch Friday night, only to make up the next morning and spend most of the weekend at his place, he seemed pleased with the promising outcome. But he wasn't stupid, and he could sense my frustrations; we both knew that things were still on shaky ground between Evan and me, at least until he severed ties with Michelle, completely.

  Our walk to U-Hall across campus was rain-free, thankfully, despite the foreboding clouds above us. Even better, the walk was pain-free, too.

  “You okay?” Lukas asked.

  I shifted my eyes toward McCarthy Hall; I didn't ignore it this time. I looked at that third floor window I used to call my own. Every time I passed by I wondered who lived in there, wondered if he or she knew of the tragedy that took place in that room.

  But not today. I breathed in the cold air, and let out a long, cathartic sigh. “You know what? I think I am. I think I'm finally okay.”

  “Really?”

  “I mean, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully recover from what happened. And having Michelle around campus isn’t exactly helping matters. But... it's getting easier. A lot easier.”

  “Baby steps, my friend,” Lukas said, and he took my hand.

  “What are you, my therapist?”

  We both laughed, and continued down the path toward U-Hall.

  After I practically snored my way though our Age of Reformation class and enjoyed a quick lunch with Lukas, I headed back to the center of campus, toward the Film building. Robert was waiting for me outside.

  “Hey Sydney,” he said.

  “Hey!” I hugged the cute ginger, just as hard as I hugged Lukas at breakfast.

  He embraced me right back. “I'm assuming Lukas told you.”

  “He told me everything! That you said you love each other, that you’re back together.” I clapped, a cheesy grin on my face. “I'm so fucking happy for you guys.”

  “Thanks. I'm more relieved than anything else. For a few days I thought he wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “Did you tell him you'd give him more space if he needed it?”

  “Yes, I know that's important to him,” Robert said. “And he told me he knew how important our Monday night dates were, and said he was going to take me somewhere extra special tonight.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. You wouldn't know where, would you?”

  I shrugged. “I didn't think to ask. Knowing Lukas, I bet it's somewhere very romantic!” I hung on the last syllable, like I was singing the final note of a Broadway show-tune.

  He smiled, and said, “Me too. I can't wait.”

  A crackle of thunder erupted overhead. Robert and I looked up, then quickly marched into the Film building, where the rain couldn't find us.

  I wanted to sit in the back, but Robert insisted on the second row, again. We took our seats, and waited for the class to begin.

  When the teacher headed to the front-and-center of the room, I looked at all the students behind me, at all those eager faces. I recognized Thomas, from theology. I saw Brenna, from my sociology class last semester. I even recognized two boys from that impossible algebra class I dropped out of freshman year.

  But the most memorable face of all was noticeably absent.

  Where was Michelle?

  Chapter 32

  I took out my binder and a fine ballpoint pen. I started taking notes, and didn’t say a word to Robert. I wasn’t going to give the teacher a single reason to chastise me in front of everyone again; today, I was to be on my best behavior.

  “Welcome everyone,” Mr. Mahaffey said. “It appears a bit emptier in here. I’m glad to see Citizen Kane scared a few of you off.” The professor guffawed, to a room of awkward silence. “As I said at our first session, this class is not an easy A, and I’m not going to be showing you movies just for the sake of entertainment. We’re going to be looking at films of the thriller genre that have shaped the world of cinema as we know it. And let me tell you, no discussion of thrillers can ever be complete without looking at the work of Alfred Hitchcock.”

  I settled into my seat, and tried to keep up with my notes. Mr. Mahaffey talked fast, but took lots of long pauses, thankfully. He discussed the director's early British period, then touched on his more famous films, like North by Northwest and The Birds.

  “And so,” he said, “that brings us to tonight’s film. Hitchcock’s 1958 masterpiece, Vertigo.” He started pacing the room, not reading from a sheet of paper or some kind of hidden teleprompter. The film scholar had all his notes in his head. “A flop upon its release, Vertigo is now considered one of the greatest films ever made. It’s a thriller that deals with obsession, phobias, multiple personalities...”

  “Sounds like my life,” I said aloud, accidentally.

  “What?” Robert asked.

  The professor darted his eyes at me, but I closed my mouth quickly, and he continued.

  When Mr. Mahaffey finished his lecture, the lights dimmed in the theater, and the Universal logo appeared on the screen. I sat back in my seat, cleared my head, and tried to enjoy myself. The opening scene on the rooftops was terrific, and the movie, despite its slow pace, kept me engaged all the way through.

  My interest in the film peaked, however, at a crucial moment. I sat up in my seat, rested my chin against my palm. The main character, p
layed by James Stewart, has been mourning the death of Madeleine, the woman he loved. But then he meets another woman, Judy, who looks similar to Madeleine. He takes her back to his hotel room, and gives her Madeleine's signature outfit to change into. His jaw drops, when Judy steps out from the shadows, and appears as the spitting image of his former love. His only choice is to walk right up to her, and kiss her, in a passionate embrace.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  “What?” Robert said.

  I looked behind me again, toward the left side of the theater. Where was Michelle? I had thought it before, and I hated thinking it again, but there was no avoiding it now: Was she becoming Evan’s Melanie?

  “What’s wrong?” Robert asked.

  I turned back around. Tried to relax. “Nothing. Nothing, I'm fine.”

  “Shh!” Mr. Mahaffey said, from the end of our row. His eyes bore into mine.

  I gave him a thumbs-up sign. He shook his head, and focused back on the screen.

  The film finally ended but had run a little long, so Mr. Mahaffey asked us to hold onto our thoughts and questions for the next session, and Robert and I headed outside. The rain was coming down, not hard enough to drench us, but enough to make for an unpleasant distraction.

  “Great,” Robert said, annoyed. He tugged on his sweater. “I thought it was always supposed to be sunny in L.A.”

  I pulled my hoodie over my head. “Yeah, that's what the brochure said. False advertising, my friend.”

  He grinned, and asked, “Where are you off to now?”

  “I don't know,” I said, although I immediately looked in the direction of Michelle's dorm building. “Probably just gonna go home, get started on homework. I have a persuasive speech outline due tomorrow.”

  “Oh really? What class is that for?”

  “Intermediate Public Speaking. I still don't know what I’m gonna write my speech about.”

  Robert leaned in closer to me. “Maybe write it on teenagers and alcohol? Lukas told me that’s a subject you care a lot about.”

  I crossed my arms. Hadn't I written about that subject enough? “Yeah, you could say it is—oh, whoa!” A lightning bolt struck in the distance, seemingly right outside of campus. “Wow, did you see that?’