I hadn’t noticed that my father wasn’t around, but am sort of thankful that he’s not glaring at me right now. Eden sits down next to me and sighs. I can’t imagine she likes being here much either.
“You can probably go with Bianca when she takes Paige to the hotel.”
“My mum already said I should. Do you think Peyton would be mad?”
“Not at all, Eden. She’ll understand.”
Paige and Eden continue to pick at their food, while I stare at mine. I thought I was hungry, but now that I have a pile of slices stacked onto my plate, my stomach is telling me otherwise.
As I look around, everyone is here except for Harrison. My mom and Jenna are huddled by Katelyn, and Jimmy is on the phone, likely handling band business or possibly setting up the press conference.
“I’m looking for Mr. and Mrs. James.”
The voice comes from one of the three police officers standing at the end of the waiting area.
“It’s Powell-James,” Katelyn says, correcting the officer in regards to her last name. “Is this about my daughter?”
“Yes, ma’am. We have the information you and your husband requested.” This time she doesn’t correct him regarding her marital status, although I think by law they?
?re considered married. I never understood, but always respected why she and Harrison never got married.
Harrison comes around the corner in time to hear what the policeman said. He extends his hand and shakes each one of theirs. “You have news about the accident?”
“Yes, would you like to go someplace and discuss?”
“No, we’re all family,” Harrison says.
“Very well. We’ve spoken with Mr. Zimmerman. He states that he met your daughter earlier before his game and asked her to dinner, which is why she was in his car.”
“She had a date,” Katelyn cries out, covering her mouth before burying her face into Harrison’s chest.
“Zimmerman?” I say out loud. All eyes turn on me, but I’m focused on the police officer. “Son of a bitch,” I say as I stand abruptly, causing my pizza to go flying. “Is that bastard in the hospital now?”
11
Peyton
My dad stares down at my body. I stand there next to him, looking at myself. Nothing has changed, except maybe my hair because Jenna brushed it, but everything else looks the same.
“Before you go,” Dad says to Jenna. “What’s the tape for on her eyes?”
Jenna rushes back to me and removes the tape. I touch my eyes, waiting for the sting that always follows when you pull a bandage or something sticky off your body, but it never comes. “It was placed there during surgery. There’s no need for it now.”
“Thank you,” he says. Jenna pauses and smiles at him.
“In my head, she’s this amazing young woman with a bright future.”
“You’re right. She is.”
“She’s very lucky to have you.”
Dad shakes his head. “I’m the lucky one.”
Jenna doesn’t say anything else. She exits the room, leaving the two of us alone. He reaches out and touches my foot. The still me doesn’t move, but I pretend that I can feel him and wiggle my toes. I don’t like to think that I will never see my parents again or my sister and Quinn or any of my other family members. I don’t want to know a place where they don’t exist. Where I’m whatever this is now, watching them go on with their lives.
How long does it take until you forget someone? I barely remember my father. Being five when he died, the memories faded rather quickly, except for the stuff I’ve made up about him in my mind. At what point do your loved ones become only a date that you remember? When do you start talking about them in past tense? Telling stories to make others remember?
Dying isn’t what I want. I want to live. I want to work on television and commentate one of Noah’s games. I’d be impartial and not afraid to tell the viewers when he’s done something bad. It’s what he’d expect from me.