Little Do We Know(74)

Tyler sighed. “Fine,” he said as he pulled into the intersection.

Just as I leaned down to stuff my phone into my backpack, a message appeared on the screen.

Luke: There are five things you need to know

In the background, I could hear Tyler rapping something from Hamilton, but I was only half listening. I was too busy reading the texts as they rolled in.

Luke: 1. Hannah and I are just friends.

Luke: 2. I’m a complete asshole.

Luke: 3. I am so sorry for everything.

Luke: 4. I should have told you, not her.

Luke: I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.

Luke: See #2.

Luke: 5. I miss you so much.

Luke: I feel horrible about opening night.

Luke: I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

Luke: Okay, I guess that was eight things.

Luke: Are you there? Please answer me.

Luke: Em?

I tucked the phone under my leg.

Tyler finished his penalty song and jumped right back into the game. “Which celebrity do people say you resemble?” he asked as he took a left on my street.

“Charlize Theron,” Charlotte said.

“Emma Stone,” I said.

“Chris Pratt,” Tyler said.

I laughed. “Yeah, you wish.”

I waited for him to ask another question, but he didn’t speak. And then he finally said, “Your turn, Emory.”

I looked at him. “For what?”

“No commentary. Sing, Kern.”

“Oh, look. We’re here.” Tyler stopped in front of my house. I tried to open the door, but every time I did, he’d hit the master switch and lock it again. “Stop it!”

“I’m not letting you out of the car until you sing,” he said.

I looked to Charlotte to back me up, but I could tell by her expression that she wasn’t on my side. “Come on,” she said. “Tyler did it.”

“Fine.” I leaned on the console, right in his personal space. And then I sang the first song that popped into my head. “Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear.” It sounded off-key and horrible, but Tyler clearly didn’t care. “Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. How do you measure, measure a year?

“Can I go now?” I asked.

Charlotte leaned in between the seats. “In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.” She was even more off-key than I was.

“In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife,” Tyler sang. He actually sounded good.

“Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes,” the two of them sang together. I just stared at them. “How do you measure a year in the life?”

The lyrics reminded me of the 300 days of Luke-isms I’d captured so far, and the 137 blank spaces I still had left to fill. If Luke wasn’t ready to stop counting, I wasn’t either.

I took the next line. This time, I belted it out. “Measure in…love…”



Luke answered on the first ring.

“Em?” He sounded surprised.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Wait. Hold on.” I could hear him shuffling around. A door opened, and then closed. “I’m heading back to my room.” I wanted to ask where he was, but I bit my tongue. “Okay, I’m alone now.”

I assumed that meant he’d been with Hannah.

“I got your texts,” I said.

He sighed. “I meant it. I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry.”

I bit down hard on my lip. “I’m sorry, too.” We were both quiet for a long time. “I saw you today. You were good.”

“Thanks.”

I thought back to what he’d said during the interview. I remembered how his words had caused something to shift in me. It was the moment I realized I was no longer angry at Hannah for being there for him, and angry at myself because I hadn’t been.

“You said you felt like you couldn’t talk to anyone. That everyone wanted you to go back to normal. Clearly, you were talking about me, and I just wanted you to know that I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” My voice hitched.

“It’s okay, Em.”

“No,” I whispered. “It’s not okay.” He was quiet, so I kept going. “Will you talk to me now? Please? I’ll listen, I promise.”

And then I stayed silent. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and I fought the urge to speak. I waited and waited.

“I’m obsessed with death,” he finally said. “Death. Near-death experiences. Everything that has to do with death.” I heard him pull in a breath. “You keep asking me what I’m doing alone in my room all the time…I’m watching videos of all these other people who have experienced death.” Once he started talking, he couldn’t seem to stop. I tried not to breathe too loudly for fear of interrupting him. “There are thousands of stories out there, and I swear, I think I’ve watched every one of them. In that week after the accident, I barely slept at all. I stayed up all night, reading articles, watching videos, and listening to all these supposed ‘experts’ talk about life after death, desperately trying to figure out what happened to me. That’s why I made the video with Hannah. And it helped. Talking about it, even to a camera, helped. It didn’t wipe it out completely, but that night, I slept, and I had normal dreams, and I didn’t wake up thinking that I was dying all over again like I had every other night. And since then, it’s been gradually getting better. I’m not afraid to go to sleep, not like I was at first.”