Instead of You(72)

That meant we talked about Hayes.

I told my mom everything. Everything. From the beginning. Starting at fourteen when Hayes was my best friend’s cute older brother, to our first kiss at Cory’s party, to where we stood that day, and everything in between. The best part was my mom listened, understood, and didn’t pass judgment. I didn’t get a lecture on getting involved with someone so soon after Cory’s death, and I didn’t even get a lecture about it being his brother. She just listened and then comforted me in her mom way.

“I was worried you wouldn’t accept a relationship between Hayes and me,” I’d said, sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room.

“Why, sweetie?”

“Ever since I could remember, you and Mrs. Wallace had been pretty clear you wanted Cory and me together. Being with Hayes seemed like it would be off-limits.”

“McKenzie, Chelsea and I had the same dream every woman has with her best friend—that their kids will grow up and fall in love. But if you hadn’t been with Cory, it wouldn’t have mattered. What matters most, to Chelsea and to me, is that our kids are happy. If Hayes makes you happy, then I’ll love him like I would have loved anyone who treated you right.”

I let out a sigh, my head falling back to rest against the chair. “I hope Mrs. Wallace feels the same way.”

“McKenzie, Chelsea loves you. She loved you with Cory, and she’ll love you with Hayes. It might shock her, she might be surprised, but I really think she’ll be grateful you’ll still be a part of her life.”

Later, when we’d gone home, she’d baked me cookies, fed me ice cream, and watched a Twilight marathon with me.

Saturday and Sunday passed with only one-word texts from Hayes, and I tried desperately to understand his situation, to think about how he must have been feeling and what he was dealing with. But every text I got from him that said, “Good,” or “Fine,” made me more nervous. He wasn’t good or fine. I knew he wasn’t. It wasn’t possible.

Mrs. Wallace had texted my mom Saturday afternoon saying she’d been released from the hospital, but that she and Hayes needed a bit to settle in before they got visitors.

I was a mess. Hayes pushing me away had me feeling insecure and useless. But my mom was handling the situation like a pro, constantly telling me that they needed their space to heal—especially Mrs. Wallace—and that’s what got me through until Monday.

I’d been on pins and needles all day, knowing that when last period came around, I’d get to see him. I wouldn’t get to talk to him, to hold him, or kiss him, but I’d be able to look him over and gauge how broken he was. I’d get to use my eyes on him for a whole period, and at that point, I’d take whatever I could get.

The day dragged on and every class felt as though it took twice as long as normal. When it finally came time for the last period, I was practically sprinting.

I walked into the room and didn’t see him, but that wasn’t unusual so I took my seat and waited. And waited. When the bell finally rang and Hayes was nowhere in sight, I panicked as Mr. White walked to the front of the class.

“Due to unfortunate circumstances, Mr. Wallace will no longer be able to finish out the term here with us. We wish him the best and I know he’ll succeed with whatever endeavors he pursues in the future. Now,” he said, turning back to his desk, “Please open your text books to page 411, and we’ll pick up where Mr. Wallace left off.”

Never had words turned me cold like those. Never had I suddenly felt as though stones lined my stomach, as if I were tied to my desk and unable to move. My lungs were heavy, making it hard to breathe, and my heart was pounding as though I’d just run a marathon.

Hayes wasn’t here.

Hayes wasn’t coming back.

Then, suddenly, the weight lifted and I ran. If Hayes wasn’t there, then I wasn’t supposed to be there either. At least, that was the logic that had me sprinting out of my last period class, leaving everything behind.

I ran all the way home, stopping for nothing. The adrenaline pumping through my system was enough stamina to keep me going, even when the rain set in halfway there. I came up on my house, but I still didn’t stop. I kept running until I saw Hayes’s house, and when I turned that final corner, my eyes landed on Hayes himself.

Loading boxes.

Into a moving van.

That image alone stopped me in my tracks.

He didn’t see me right away and continued to load a few more boxes. I was standing just down the street in front of his neighbor’s house, watching. Finally, he came out of the truck, down the ramp, turned to walk into his garage, and spotted me. We stood there for a few heavy seconds, staring at each other through the rain, before he started toward me.

“Kenz,” he said as he neared me. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been meaning to call you.”

I wanted to tell him I’d had my phone in my hands for three days waiting to hear from him, to tell him that he should have called, that I’d been worried sick about him, but I didn’t. “How’s your mom?”

“They released her Saturday, and we’re just trying to move forward. She’ll be fine, eventually.”

We were both quiet for a moment, neither one of us seeming to notice the rain falling heavily down on us. Finally, I had to speak. “What’s with the moving van?”