I glanced up from the fallen tree I leaned against to see Katie standing before me in her ivory church dress. At sixteen she was still the beautiful girl I couldn’t help but stare at, only now she had grown three inches, and her curves had filled out. I shrugged and continued to dig my father’s pocketknife into the sole of my black Adidas shell top sneaker.
“You know you can talk to me, Ryder.”
“It’s the twenty-third,” I mumbled before shoving the knife harder into the shoe.
“Oh.” She sat down beside me, not worrying about ruining her dress. “Right. The twenty-third.” I glanced over at her, her hair pulled up in a bun with a few loose curls. I didn’t need to explain what I meant. Katie and I had been hanging out together ever since my father died, even more now since her mom got remarried. It had been four years since the accident, but the anniversary of that day brought me back to that moment like not a single hour had passed. He was such a great man, never did anything wrong, and one day everything about his image was shattered.
“Give me your hand.”
I eyed her suspiciously but held out my hand to her. She placed a small handmade bracelet, woven from thin black-and-blue plastic strips, over my wrist.
“That make it better?” She pressed her lips to my temple, and all the pain evaporated under her touch. “Happy birthday, Ryder.”
“Why do you have your hair up like that?” I made a face at her, and she giggled. “You know I love it when you wear it down.”
She folded her arms over her chest as she stuck her chin in the air defiantly. “To keep mean boys with dirty fingers from pulling it.”
I fought against a smirk, but I couldn’t help it. “No mean boys will ever pull your hair again, or they will have to deal with me.”
“You’re the meanest of them all,” she quipped. “What’s that?” She pointed to the torn wrapping paper on the ground beside me. I picked up the small key ring and held it in front of me. “It’s for my car.”
“You’re kidding?” She was more excited than I had been, but seeing her smile made it all worth it.
“The Barracuda my dad was restoring before he died.” My voice trailed off as my throat became thick with sadness.
“I think it’s sweet.” We fell silent as she reached up and touched one of the tiny feathers that hung from the bottom. “When do I get to see your car?”
“My mom thinks I’ll be ready to take my test soon, but the car still needs a lot of work. I never really paid attention when Dad was trying to teach me all of that car stuff.”
“You’re smart. You’ll teach yourself.” She rubbed her fingers over a light purplish spot on her arm.
“What’s that?”
“Bryce was being a jerk this morning because I took too long in the bathroom before church. I miss being an only child.” She shrugged, but I knew she hated her stepbrother.
“You want me to kick his ass?”
Her eyes lit up. She shook her head but she was fighting to hide a smile. “That won’t make anything better.”
I closed the knife and stuck it in my tin pencil box that I kept hidden in a hole of our favorite tree. Taking Katie’s hand in mine, she watched me suspiciously as I slowly raised her hand and pressed my lips against the bruise. “How about that?”
“Much better.”
“What about this,” I asked as I leaned over and pressed my lips against hers. Her fingers slid over the side of my neck as her lips parted, and my tongue swept over cherry-flavored lips.
* *
“Jesus Christ, Rellik. Stop fucking daydreaming and watch the goddamn road!” Phantom’s deep voice pulled me from my memories. I blinked away the sad faces and checked the GPS to make sure we were still making good time. My eyes met his briefly in the rearview mirror. I knew he was worried, but I had everything under control, always. I watched the road ahead, glancing from my hand on the steering wheel, still seeing the dirt-covered fingers, and back to the tiny drops of water that splattered against the windshield. It was hard to push the past away as we grew closer to where it all happened. This trip was going to test the limits of all our sanity. I wished I could rid my mind of the memories, but my whole life was a walking nightmare.
“I’m fine,” I replied, my throat feeling tight. I struggled to clear it. “Just hung over.” Reaching for the radio dial, I turned up the volume and clicked to play our CD that was already in the player. I hoped to drown out my thoughts, but the voices couldn’t be quieted. They were a part of who I was now, the memories of Katie a constant reminder of what I could never have.