Before I Fall

I dont hate you. I dont know you. But Id like to change that. Start over. Im almost screaming now. Im not sure if she can still hear me.

She says something I dont hear. Another car goes flashing by, a silver bullet.

What?

Juliet turns her head a fraction of an inch and says, louder, Youre right. You dont know me.

Another car. Laughter rings out as it passes. Someone throws a beer bottle into the woods and it shatters. Then Im sure I hear someone calling my name, though I cant tell exactly which direction it comes from. The wind shrieks, and I suddenly realize that Juliets only a half inch from the road, teetering on the thin line where the pavement begins, like shes balancing on a tightrope.

Maybe you should come away from the road, I say, but all the time in the back of my head, theres an idea growing and swelling, a horrible, sickening realization, massing up and taking shape like clouds on the horizon. Someone calls my name again. And then, still in the distance, I hear the throaty wail of Splinter by Fallacy pumping from someones car.

Sam! Sam! I recognize it as Kents voice now.

Last night for the last timeyou said you would be mine again

Juliet turns to face me then. Shes smiling, but its the saddest smile Ive ever seen.

Maybe next time, she says. But probably not.

Juliet, I try to say, but the name catches in my throat. I feel like fear has turned me to stone. I want to say something, to move, to reach out and grab her, but time goes so quickly, and then the realization bursts and explodes as the music from the speakers gets louder and a silver Range Rover rockets out of the darkness. Like a bird or an angellike shes throwing herself off a cliffJuliet lifts her arms and hurtles onto the road, and theres a scream piercing the air and a sickening crunch, and its not until Juliets body flies sideways off the hood of Lindsays car and lands crumpled facedown in the road, and the Range Rover sails into the woods and crashes, splintering, crumpling against a tree, and long ribbons of smoke and flame begin licking the air, that I realize Im the one screaming.

BEFORE I WAKE

Kent catches up to me then. Sam, he says breathlessly, eyes searching my face. Are you okay?

Lindsay, I whisper. Its the only thing that I can think to say. Lindsay and Elody and Ally are in that car.

He turns to the road. Black pillars of smoke are rising out of the woods. From where were standing we can just see the battered metal bumper, rising like a finger over the dip of the earth.

Wait here, he says. Its a miracle, but he sounds calm. He runs into the road, whipping his phone out, and I hear him yelling directions to someone on the other end. Theres been an accident. Fire. Route nine, just past Devon Drive. He kneels by Juliets body. At least one person hurt.

Other cars are squealing to a halt now. People climb out of their cars uncertainly, everyone suddenly sober, everyone speaking in whispers, staring at the tiny crumpled body in the road, at the smoke and fire licking up from the woods. Emma McElroy pulls over and gets out with her hands cupped over her mouth, eyes bugging out of her head, leaving the door to her Mini hanging open and the radio blasting. Jay-Zs 99 Problems booms through the night, and the normalcy of it is the most horrible thing of all. Someone shrieks, For Gods sake, Emma, shut that off. Emma scrambles back to her car, and then theres silence except for the pounding of the rain, and the sounds of someone sobbing loudly.

I feel like Im in a dream. I keep trying to move, but I cant. I dont even feel the rain anymore. I dont feel my body.

Theres only one thought revolving around and around and around in my head: the flash of white just before we pin-wheeled into the yawning mouth of the woods, Lindsay yelling something I couldnt quite make out.

Not sit or shit or sight.

Sykes.

Then a long, piercing wail comes from the other side of the woods, and Lindsay stumbles up to the road, her mouth open and tears streaming down her face. Kent is there, supporting Ally, whos limping and coughing but looks okay.

Lindsays screaming, Help! Help! Elodys still in there! Somebody help her! Please! Shes so hysterical her words swell together, transforming into an animal howl. She sinks down on the pavement and sobs, her head in her hands. Then another wailing joins in: sirens in the distance.

Nobody moves. Everything starts happening in short, choppy burstsat least, thats what it seems like to melike Im watching a movie while a strobe light goes on and off. More and more students massing in the rain, standing as still and silent as statues. The police sirens turning, lighting the scene up red, then white, then red, then white. Figures in uniforman ambulancea stretchertwo stretchers. Juliets body laid out neatly, tiny and fragile, just like the bird all those years ago. Lindsay throwing up as the second stretcher bears a body up from the totaled car, and Kent rubbing her back. Ally sobbing with her mouth open, which is weird, because I dont hear a sound. At some point I lift my eyes to the sky and see that the rain has transformed into snowfat, white flakes swirling out of the darkness as if by magic. I have no idea how long Ive been standing there. Im surprised to see that when I look back at the road theres hardly anyone left there at all, just a few stragglers and a solitary police car and Kent, jumping up and down to keep warm, talking to an officer. The ambulances are gone. Lindsays gone. Allys gone.

Then Kents standing in front of me though I didnt see him move. How did you do that? I try to say, but nothing comes out.

Sam. Kents speaking to me, and I get the feeling hes said my name more than once. I feel a squeezing sensation and it takes me a second to realize he has his hands on my arms. It takes me a second to realize I still have arms, and in that moment its like I slam back into my body, and the force of everything Ive seen hits me and my legs buckle and I slump forward. Kent catches me, holds me up.

What happened? I whisper, dazed. Is Elody? Is Juliet?

Shhh. His lips are close to my ear. Youre freezing.

I have to go find Lindsay.

Youve been out here for over an hour. Your hands are like ice. He shrugs out of the heavy sweater hes wearing and drapes it over me. There are white snowflakes caught in his lashes. He places his hands gently under my elbows and steers me back toward the driveway. Come on. Lets get you warm.

I dont have the strength to argue. I let him lead me to the house. His hands never leave me, and even though hes barely grazing my back, I feel like without him I would fall.

It seems like were back at Kents house without even moving. Then were in the kitchen, and hes pulling out a chair and putting me in it. His lips are moving and his tone is comforting, but I cant understand what hes saying. Then theres a thick blanket over my shoulders and a shooting pain in my fingers and toes as the feeling comes back to them, as though someones sticking hot, sharp needles in me. Still, I cant stop shivering. My teeth are clacking together with a noise like dice rattling in a cup.

The kegs are still in the corner, and there are half-empty cups everywhere, and cigarette butts swimming in them, but the musics off and the house feels totally different without any people in it. My mind is focusing on a bunch of tiny details, ricocheting from one to the other like a Ping-Pong ball: the embroidered sign above the sink that says MARTHA STEWART DOES NOT LIVE HERE; the snapshots posted on the refrigerator, of Kent and his family on the beach somewhere, of relatives I dont know, of old postcards from Paris, Morocco, San Francisco; rows of mugs displayed behind the glass cabinets, with slogans on them like CAFFEINE OR BUST and ITS TEA TIME.

One marshmallow or two? Kent is saying.

What? My voice comes out croaky and weird. All my other senses come online in a rush: I hear the hissing of milk heating in a pot; Kents face comes into focus, sweet and concerned, bits of snow melting out of his shaggy brown hair. The blanket around my shoulders smells like lavender.

Ill just put in a couple, Kent says, turning back to the stove. In a minute theres an oversized mug (This one says HOME IS WHERE THE CHOCOLATE IS) steaming in front of me, filled with foamy hot chocolatethe real kind, not the kind you get from a packageand big, bobbing marshmallows. I dont know whether Ive asked for this out loud or whether hes just read my mind.

Kent sits across from me at the table and watches me take a sip. Its delicious, just sweet enough and full of cinnamon and something else I cant identify, and I put the mug down with slightly steadier hands.

Wheres Lindsay? I say as the scene comes back to me: Lindsay on her knees in front of everyone, throwing up. She must have been out of her mindLindsay would never do something like that in public. Is she okay?

Kent nods, his eyes fixed on my face. Lindsays fine. She had to go to the hospital to be checked out for shock and stuff. But shes going to be okay.

SheJuliet came so fast. I close my eyes, envisioning the white blur, and when I open them, Kent looks like his insides are getting torn out. Is sheI mean, is Juliet?

He shakes his head once. There was nothing they could do, he says, so quietly if I didnt know what he was going to say I would never have heard him.

I saw her I start to speak and find I cant. I could have grabbed her. She was so close.

It was an accident. Kent looks down. Im not sure whether he really believes it.

No, it wasnt, I want to say. I think of her strange half smile as she said, Maybe next time, but probably not, and close my eyes, willing the memory away.

What about Ally? Is she okay?

Allys fine. Not even a scratch. Kents voice gets stronger, but theres a pleading sound to it, and I understand hes trying to get me to stop talkinghe doesnt want me to ask what Im about to ask.

Elody? My voice comes out in a whisper.

Kent looks away. A muscle works in his jaw.

She was sitting in the front seat, he says finally, as though each and every word hurts, and I think of Elody leaning forward and whining, Why does Sam always get shotgun? The passenger side took most of the impact.

I wonder if thats how they would have explained it to my parents at the hospitalcollision, passenger side, impact. Is she? I cant say the word.

He looks at me like hes about to cry. He looks older than Ive ever seen him, his eyes dark and full and sad. Im so sorry, Sam, he says quietly.