Expelled(59)

But I realize that I do.

You gotta keep yourself between the ditches, son, my dad said when he was teaching me to drive. Sometimes you gotta pay attention to where you don’t want to be.

Sometimes when I think about my dad, I can’t help wondering if there was one final millisecond, as the bullet tore through his brain, when he regretted his choice.

For his sake, I hope not. A person can make amends for a vast array of fuckups. But he can’t do it from inside a coffin.

I take a deep breath. I’m alive. Sasha’s alive.

We’re just going to have to take it from here.





56


I turn down the gravel road to the Property. The wild sweet peas are fading a little, but the daisies have begun to bloom, and the field’s a riot of pink and white.

As I come around the bend, I see Sasha’s car parked by the rhododendrons—not hidden this time. And then I see Sasha herself, sitting on the edge of the deck, waiting for me. I guess she knew I’d come here, the way I knew she’d be here, too.

She stands as I approach and brushes the shiny hair away from her pale face. She’s not crying. Her eyes are clear and fierce. She says, “You can’t do that to me, Theo. I won’t stand for it.”

I take her into my arms and pull her to my chest. I feel her sharp shoulder blades, her fast-beating heart. How could anyone ever hurt her?

“I know,” I say, my throat constricting in pain. “I’m sorry for how I acted. And I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I didn’t know what to do or what to think, and I freaked out. So I ran. I know, it was terrible of me.” I take a step back and meet her gaze. “But I’m here now, and I’m going to help you,” I say.

“How?” she asks. There’s no challenge to her voice. It’s almost like she’s hopeful.

And I realize I don’t know the right answer to that question. What do I do? Do I confront her father? Do I call the police? Do I put her in the car and drive us both away, hoping that Officer Tucker doesn’t catch me this time?

There’s only one thing I’m sure of right now. “What I said in the boat—I still mean it,” I say. I take her hands in mine.

“Do you really, though?” Sasha asks. “Didn’t you just realize that you barely even know me? How can you love someone with so many secrets?”

“I don’t know,” I cry. “I’m not doing it on purpose!”

Sasha gives a small, desperate laugh. “Love’s just an accident, huh? That makes perfect sense to me. Well, I guess neither of us knows what the hell we’re doing, or why the hell we’re doing it. It’s like we’re both just sitting on top of moving trains, and the world’s rushing past us, and we don’t know how to make it stop.”

“The difference is that I don’t want to stop,” I say. “I love you, Sasha Ellis, and I like it that way. But you—your train is a different goddamn story.”

Then I let go of her hands and I start walking toward the shed. This talk of moving trains has given me an idea. Admittedly, a crazy one.

“Have you seen any YouTube stunt videos lately?” I call over my shoulder.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Life advice,” I say cryptically. “Having to do with objects in motion.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not supposed to yet,” I say. I wheel the ancient dirt bike out of its dusty shed. My mom had insisted I take it back to the Property since it wasn’t road safe. “What you need is a demonstration.”

I straddle the bike. Choke on, carburetor throttle open. Clutch in. I slam down on the kick start, and the bike rumbles to life.

“What are you doing?” Sasha calls over the sound of the motor.

I lurch forward, then shift into second. I don’t want to be going too fast, but too slow won’t do either.

In case anyone is wondering, barging into the assembly wasn’t my most insane idea ever—this is.

The bike bumps over the grass. I pick up speed and the motor whines in protest. Then I hit a tree root that nearly unseats me. I grip the handlebars harder. My heart is pounding.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

I’m trying to save Sasha, but I might destroy myself.

Oh, well.

I lean forward. I lift myself off the saddle a little. My legs are tense, knees bent, and my grip is tight. I’m heading straight for the woods, where there is no path. Where there’s nothing but trees.

“Theo!” Sasha yells.

I cut between two saplings, spin around a lilac. And then a giant blue spruce looms in front of me. I bear down on it. I pull the throttle back just a bit more. Three seconds to impact.

At the very last moment, right before the tree and I meet, I thrust my legs up and over the bike. I’m suspended in the air…

And then I come crashing down. I hit the ground hard, the wind slammed right out of me. I go fetal, gasping, as the world goes blurry and then pops back into focus.

The bike keeps on going, careening into the low, sweeping branches of the tree and then hitting the trunk itself. There’s the sound of crunching metal. The bike tips over and crashes to the ground. The motor dies. And then there’s silence.