“If only he’d gone down that path,” he lamented sadly. “If only we both had.”
“And why didn’t you?”
Erik put down his fork. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, as if warding away a headache.
“Because my parents were assholes,” he said. “They were never around, always working. When they weren’t doing that they were constantly fighting. And eventually, screwing around on each other.”
“That’s shitty,” I commiserated.
“Yeah. Neither of them had time for little league or soccer practice or whatever Hayden and I asked for. Instead we were cut totally loose. Left to do our own thing.”
“It’s a lonely way to grow up,” I nodded. “It sucks.”
“For a while, yeah,” he agreed. “But we had each other. And the freedom… well, we grew to enjoy that part. Especially as we got older. It was fun for a while, playing the grown-up. Doing whatever you wanted, without repercussions.” He looked away, his mind calling up some faded memory. “Although let’s be honest; freedom is the last thing you want to give a pair of rowdy teenagers.”
Erik downed some more of his coffee and went right back to pushing pancakes around his plate. I noticed he’d slowed down now. He seemed lost in thought.
“It wasn’t long before Hayden fell in with the wrong crowd,” he said. “Bad people. Really bad. It’s almost like they got off competing against each other, to see who could do the most terrible things.”
His voice trailed off angrily, without expanding on this part. I certainly didn’t ask. I knew all about it.
“I looked up to him of course,” said Erik. “I thought my older brother was cool as hell. Slicker than shit. He always had money, pretty girls, even cars too. When he stopped going to school, my parents didn’t even notice.” He set his fork down and pushed his plate away before looking up at me. “It only made me want to quit also.”
“But you didn’t?” I guessed.
“Almost,” he admitted. “I was already cutting class. Skipping days sometimes, too. And I had a new crowd, by then. My own little group of asshole friends who thought it would be cool to ditch tests and sneak away. To hang out anywhere else, but at school, and then—”
I saw his eyes go totally and abruptly blank. Erik’s body language changed entirely, in all the time it took to blink. His shoulders were slumped, as he stared down at the floor.
“Hayden was out joyriding when he flipped a stolen car,” he said. “Broke his neck. Happened instantly, at the point of impact.”
I sunk my head into my hands. I had no words.
“Honey, I’m sorr—”
“He didn’t even feel it,” Erik went on. “Or at least that’s what the paramedics told my mother and father. When you work that kind of job I guess you have to say stuff like that. You make up harmless little lies to help alleviate some of the pain.”
Silence reigned. I sat back and let it rule for a while.
“Anyway, something good came out of it,” said Erik finally. “My brother’s funeral woke me up. Got me away from the dirtbags I’d been calling my friends. I pushed everyone away for a while, even my parents. Especially my parents actually, because I put a big part of the blame on them.”
I hopped my chair closer, and slid my arm around him. “They did deserve it,” I agreed, sadly. “I won’t tell you any different.”
“Yes, but—”
“I mean, they should’ve been there,” I went on indignantly. “They should’ve stepped in and put an end to all that bullsh—.”
“But a huge chunk of the blame is on me, too.”
I stopped suddenly, my mouth open in shock and surprise. My arm, squeezing him tightly.
“Erik, no. You can’t possibly think that.”
“It’s my fault,” he went on, “because I could’ve prevented it. I could’ve stopped Hayden from being in the car that day, because he’d called me beforehand.” His voice was choked tight now, his eyes glassy. “Right before he died, my brother asked me if I’d wanted to hang out.”
I held him tight as he drew a long, shuddering breath. He let it out by clearing his throat.
“I blew him off, Savannah. I didn’t answer the call, so he left a message. He said he wanted us to do something together. Anything. See a movie, maybe. Just… just…”