It’s been maybe two weeks since the crash and still Tommy asks me questions. The doctor said I had a minor concussion, but I’d be find after a few days. I got lucky, really, really lucky.

“You remember your name?” Tommy takes a sip of his orange juice, staring at me from the other side of the counter.

I nod, wanting so much to run to the front door behind me and escape. “I think it’s . . . Damian?” I tilt my head as Tommy sets his clear glass down, giving me a worried look.

“Does that sound right? No, it was something more . . . Perfect,” I shake my head, pretending to scan my thoughts for rembrance of my name.

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Funny.” He nods, looking me over with his hazel eyes. Mom’s eyes, just like them.

I look down at the white counter, counting the little grains of stone that almost look like they’ve been melted to look this way.

“You going to school today?” Tommy ponders, taking another sip of his juice.

No . . . I don’t want to face the crowd. They’ll all ask questions and I’m sure that after the hundredth, I’ll be so annoyed I’ll just blurt out. “I killed someone!” Which could go a million different ways, and I dont’ even want to know what those ways could be like.

“I don’t know,” I shrug, as I lean my forearms on the cold counter. “Maybe.”

There’s a long pause that echos through the small kitchen. Tommy finishes his drink, sliding the glass into the sink. It lands with a loud crash agaisnt the other dishes that are piling out.

“I mean, if I do . . .” I trail off eyeing the overflowing sink. “Who will do these dishes?”

I walk over to the sink, grabbing a towel from the hook on the cabinet under the sink.

“Me?” Tommy replies as I start wiping the edges of the counter around the sink. “Like I always do. Every single time.”

I stop wiping, shutting my eyes. Tommy’s on to me. Of course he is! He’s Tommy, the only person on Earth that knows me better than I know myself.

“You scared?” He asks, walking up next to me.

Scared? I wish I was scared. I’m terrified. “I just don’t want to face the music.” I mumble. “I’m tired of it.”

Tommy grabs the towel out from under my hand. “Well we’ve all got to eventually.”

That’s what I hate most about life. You can’t escape it, you can’t run from it. Everything finds you, it _always_ catches up with you.

Tommy starts scrubbing the counter. “I think you should go . . . Mom always said things start to get better when you do what you’re used to.”

I sigh, “Yeah, I guess but I’ve never liked school.”

Tommy shakes his head, dropping the towel, using his rough hands to push me towards the door. “That doesn’t matter. You’re used to going to school, so maybe going back will start to make everything go back to the way it was.”

I want to laugh. How can Tommy possibly think anything could go back to the way it was? Once something big happens it’s like ripping a page. You can tape it, but it’ll never be the same again. No matter what you do.

“Fine,” I mutter grabbing my heavy backpack off the ground as I slide into my shoes.

Tommy hits my across the shoulder. “Good boy.” He opens the front door, the blinding sun shining in my eyes. “Now get.”

I’m shoved out the door before I can even turn around to grab a lunch. That’s so Tommy, wanting the house alone to himself so he can invite a girl over. He gets Fridays off from work, and I know what he uses them for.

I walk slowly down the side walk. Dragging my feet along with me as my backpack hangs from one shoulder.

What am I going to say? I just hope no one notices that I was gone for a couple weeks. I don’t have many friends, if any at all. Which is a personal choice, if I wanted friends I’d have them.

I watch my feet as I force them to keep going. It’s so cold out here, even with Dad’s jacket around my shoulders.

“Davian?” Maisie asks, walking down her driveway. I didn’t know she lived here. I scan the house behind her, I’ll remember that, the white one story house with the black door and old bench on the porch.

“Hey,” I say as she comes to my side. “What’s up?”

Maisie brushes her hair out of her eyes as she turns to look at me. “I’m just trying to get through the day without breaking.”

Same. Although I think I’ve already broken. “If you do . . .” I pause, my eyes bouncing off Maisie’s as we walk. “I’ll be there to put you back together.”

Maisie smiles sweetly. “I’m glad.”

. . .

The rest of the day is a blur. No one asked about my absence which for some reason hurt. It’s what I wanted, so I should be jumping with joy not wanting to go lay in bed and cry my eyes out.

“Bad day?” Maisie questions as she meets up with me in the hall.

“Was,” I tell her. “It’s not anymore.”

Maisie bumps me with her shoulder, laughing. “Do you mean to be so . . .” She pauses blushing as she looks away.

“Charming?” I finish her sentance, the whole terrible day flooding out of my memory. “Is that what you were going to say?”

Maisie shakes her head. “No . . . Well maybe.” She laughs meeting my eyes. “Does that make you feel better?”

I put a hand on my chest, above my heart. “No. You didn’t mean it . . . You just wanted me to feel better.” I do my best to look hurt and broken. Which surprisingly isn’t very hard.

Maisie gives me a small smile as we push open the glass doors into the real world. Not that school isn’t real but . . . This place is just different. It’s where most of my life happens.

We walk in silence for a while, listening to the world around us. The sweet chrip of the birds, the rustling sound of the leaves on the branches of trees above us. It’s all so peaceful, so perfect.

“Is it wrong?” Maisie asks, like I’m reading her mind. I’d actually like that, it would be fun and then the world might actually make sense.

“What?” I look down at Maisie to see tears building in her eyes.

“To . . .” Maisie licks her lips as a tear slips down her cheek. “To want to go to sleep and hope that you fall asleep before you fall apart?”

I guess it kind of depends. I do that all the time, except crying usually keeps me up so I’ll break way before I close my eyes.

“No,” I stop as we get in front of her house. “I do it . . . I think it’s just our way of hiding pain. Ignoring it, fighting it off.”

Maisie nods, so softly that I can barely tell she moved her head. “I want it.” Maisie mutters. “I want to fall asleep before I fall apart.”

More tears stream down Maisie’s face. I like how she can be her real self if front of me. Not that crying is her true self, but she’s not afraid to hide her feelings. I like that . . . A lot.

I reach out using my thumb to wipe Maisie’s wet cheek. “I know.” I murmur as she stares into my eyes.

Everything seems to freeze, the trees stop dancing with the wind. The clouds stop drifting and the world seems to stop revolving around the sun.

“Thank you,” Maisie whispers as she brings her hand up to mine. Brushing my fingers gently with hers.

I grab onto her hand, squeezing it tight before letting it go. “I’m here.” I say as Maisie swipes at her cheeks. “I’ll always be here.”

Maisie nods but I don’t get the feeling that she actually believes that. Something in her is telling her I’m not always going to be here. But that’s a lie, I’ll never leave this girl. Not if I can help it.

“I hope that’s true,” Maisie chokes out softly as tears stain her face.

I don’t know what to do. So I do the first thing that cross my mind. I drop my back pack, letting it smack the side walk as I wrap my arms around Maisie.

It feels different. Not like a normal hug. I feel a burst of light, a warming fire that’s spreading though my whole body.

Maisie brings her cold hands to my neck, burying her face into my shoulder. I shut my eyes, tears pricking in my eyes as I listen to Maisie’s quiet sobs.

I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I did this to her. I hurt her. How can I live with that?

“Don’t let go just yet,” Maisie whispers into my ear, her breath warm against my neck.

“I wasn’t going to.” I mumble, pulling her closer as guilt boils through my veins.