Never Forget

Chapter Six

    Principal Gregory sat behind his desk, his stony expression revealing no emotion. His large, brown eyes stared at me for a long time, assessing me. Dark stubble shown on his face from more than just a few days of neglect.

     "Ash, I'm sure you know why you're here."

     "Go ahead. Suspend me. Expel me for all I care."

     "I want to talk to you. I know you're upset right now. You have every right to be, and sometimes when people are upset they do rash things they'll regret later."

      "I have no regrets. Abby needs to be remembered. Were you going to give her a proper memorial?"

     "We talked about her in the morning announcements, and there are counselors here if anyone needs to talk about what happened, including you. If you would've gotten to school on time, you would've heard the announcement."

     I shook my head. "That's not good enough. That took up what—two minutes out of everyone's day? They'll forget by lunch if they haven't already."

     He sighed. "What happened to Miss Jenkins is tragic. It's okay if you want her to be remembered, but there are better ways to go about it, ones that don't cause damage to school property."

     "Why is what I did so wrong? Abby needs to be remembered. That's all she wants." Tears stung at my eyes, but I fought them back. "She died because I didn't care enough to think of her. She needs to know I'm thinking about her now."

     "Ash, you're not the reason she's gone. There's nothing you could've done."

     "That's where you're wrong. I should've been there for her. I could've stopped her. I was the jerk who broke her heart and left her to deal with everything by herself. There are plenty of things I could've done and I didn't do a damn one."

     He sighed. "Ash, I think you should speak to one of our counselors. You're vulnerable right now, and it might be good for you."

     I shook my head. "I don't need counseling. I don't need someone who is going to lie and say this wasn't my fault when it was."

     "Then, I think it would be best if you went home until after her services. When you come back, you need to see a guidance counselor. If you don't, I'll have to suspend you."

     Shoving my hands in my pockets, I stood up. "Fine. I'll leave right now."

     As I walked out, I thought I heard him say something, but I wasn't listening. My vision was blurred and my head was spinning. Luckily, everyone was in class, but I wasn't exactly alone.

     Sliding down against the wall, I buried my head in my knees. Closing my eyes, I focused on what I felt.

     What felt like a pair of arms wrapped around my body. A tear slipped down my face, and I felt something brush against my cheek, almost like a kiss.

     I choked back a sob. The ache in my chest nearly crippled me, preventing me from focusing on anything else. I just wanted to see her again, if only for a minute. I wanted to know that what I was feeling was real, that she was really holding me. I didn't want this to be my imagination.

                                                                            /

     Somehow, I managed to get home without losing it completely. My parents' black BMW sat in the driveway. Parking my car, I grabbed my bag and went inside, bracing myself for what awaited me. I was almost certain they got a phone call from the school, if not multiple ones.

     My dad sat at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. When I walked in, he peered at me from behind the paper. His bald spot seemed to have gotten larger since I last saw him, unless it was just from the light above him. What was left of his hair was black, like mine. Sometimes I wondered if that was all I inherited from his gene poole. That, and height. We were both roughly the same height, 6'0". Height and hair. I prayed the similarities stopped there.

     "Your principal just called."

     "Hello to you, too, Dad."

     He put the paper down on the table. He had it flipped to the obituaries.

     "Why did you vandalize the school?"

     I groaned. "I didn't vandalize the school. I just gave Abby a proper memorial."

     His gaze hardened, making his worry lines more prominent. Hazel eyes glared back at me.

     "I always knew that girl would be your downfall. I always knew she was going to mess up your life, but not like this."

     My blood ran cold.

     "What?"

     "You heard me, Asher."

     "Yeah, but I can't believe what I'm hearing." My dad took everything too seriously, but this went too far. Any respect I had for him vanished. "If anything, she made my life better."

     "Well, apparently she wasn't a good influence," he said. "Only weak cowards resort to suicide when life gets a little rough."

     My hands clenched into fists. "Abby wasn't a coward. If you want to accuse anyone of being a coward, it should be me, your son. You know, the one who just sat back and watched his best friend suffer and did nothing. You ought to be so proud of me, Dad. Did you know that, for whatever reason, she was in love with me?"

     "There was help available for her, but she refused, according to Carla. She had wanted her to go to counseling. She refused. She couldn't be forced. It wasn't your problem that she killed herself or that she was in love with you."

     "She wanted me to help her," I said. "It was my problem. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten this way if I had been there for her."

     Shaking his head, he put the paper down. "Ash, you dodged a bullet by distancing yourself from her."

     I took a step back, eyes narrowed. "Why? Was she not good enough for me?"

     "I never said that."

      "No, but I know you were thinking it." I headed for the stairs.

     "Ash, you're lucky I convinced them not to suspend you," he said, stopping me. "You could've been thrown off the team."

     I bit my lip. "Did I forget to mention? As of this morning, I quit football."

     I took off up the stairs, wanting to find Mom before his head exploded. Not that I could really blame him. Mike and I in particular were fighting for scholarships. I could've had a full ride, but I didn't have the heart to keep playing. Based on the dreams I had been having, I knew Abby used to go to my games. She probably went to all of them and I never even realized it. Knowing that now, my heart wouldn't have been in it if I continued playing.

     Upstairs, my parents' room was across from mine. Peeking inside, I found Mom taking clothes out of the closet. Black attire. I swallowed, realizing what they were for.

     She turned around, blue eyes mirroring my own, studying my face.

     "Ash, honey, come here," she said.

      I walked inside. "Hey, Mom. How is Aunt Rita?"

      "Better," she said. "She's slowly getting used to the crutches."

     Aunt Rita was like a stereotypical crazy cat lady, minus the cats as she was allergic. She never had kids, so when she fell and broke a few bones last week, my parents went to stay with her a few days in New Jersey to help her.

      "What about you?" She placed a hand on my shoulder. "I know how hard this must be on you."

     I shook my head. "I don't think I can get over this."

     "I think Carla can help you with that more than anyone," she said. "She went through this with David, only his wasn't a surprise."

     "He didn't kill himself," I said. "And he died knowing his wife and daughter loved him. Abby was in love with me, and she died thinking I didn't care about her at all. And now my own father thinks she wouldn't have been good enough for me."

     She dropped her hand. "Ash, he's just upset. We know this is going to affect you for sometime, and he's mad that she did it with you watching."

     I nodded, refusing to let the memory resurface. "I need to be alone for a little while."

     "Okay, just let me know if you need anything."

     I headed for my room, closing my door behind me. Sitting on my bed, I extended my hand.    "Abby, if you're here, can you take my hand?"

    What felt like a hand placed itself in mine. I brushed my thumb over where I thought her knuckles would've been. Then, I looked to my left where I sensed she would've been. "Abby, if I ever made you feel like you weren't good enough for me, I'm sorry."

     Something rested against my shoulder, too large to be a hand. I figured it was her head.

     "Maybe I did feel that way. I never even considered you. You were my best friend, and I loved you as that, but I never thought we could have been more."

     She removed her hand and her head lifted from my shoulder.

     "Abby, please don't go. You need to hear what I have to say." Even though she wasn't touching me, I could still sense her. "There comes a point in time when everyone who doesn't matter disappears, and all that's left in front of you is the person you can't live without. Your dad told me that once. I didn't really know what he was talking about at the time, but now I understand. My moment came in the parking lot, after you ran out of the school. All I saw was you, and all I could think about was getting to your house and taking your pain away."

     Her hand returned to mine. I caressed it with my thumb again. "Abby, I know you might not believe me, but I love you. I'm sorry that it took me so long to realize how perfect you are for me. I wish I realized it when you did. We would've spent the last three years kissing instead of ignoring each other. Then, maybe you wouldn't have been so depressed. And if you were, I would've taken care of you."

     Dropping my hand, I stood up. "I wish you had opened your window. We would be having this conversation and I could actually see you right now. It wouldn't be so one-sided." I turned around, my voice shaking as tears I fought all morning started pouring down my face. "We might have had a future together, but now we'll never know. It's all my fault. I was supposed to stop you. Why wouldn't you let me?"

     She didn't touch me. In fact, I could no longer feel her in the room at all. Did I upset her?

     Sitting back on the bed, I hung my head, letting the tears continue to fall. For the first time since her death, I felt completely alone.