Birthday Girl

He used to be a teenage guy, too, after all, I guess.

“There was a guy named Nick who always got people off my back,” I go on, remembering. “He was nice to me and talked to me. He didn’t leer or act immature.”

I absently rub my finger over the scar.

“One day he invites me to hang out, and he brings Cole along.” I look over at Pike, the anger from earlier suddenly gone now. “We all became friends, had a lot of fun, and I think I became closer to them than I have been to anyone. Except my sister, that is.”

He nods, looking like he’s thinking. And then he asks, “And you and Cole started dating? How did Nick take that?”

I turn my eyes back out at the pool, taking in a deep breath. “He never knew,” I say quietly.

Pike remains quiet, the tension in the air thick now. I said he never knew. Not he doesn’t know.

I clear my throat. “One night, a couple years ago, before Cole and I were seeing each other,” I tell him. “He and Nick were out together. Cole had too much to drink, and he passed out. Nick caught a ride home with someone else.”

Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and my mouth is so dry.

“The driver lost control of his truck, it rolled, and all the kids in the back of the bed went tumbling out.”

“Oh, my God,” he says under his breath, dropping his head.

I finish. “Nick was caught under. He died a couple days later.”

I squeeze my fists to try to keep from crying. He was the only person I knew who died. It wasn’t like my mom leaving. Nick didn’t want to go. He lived for video games, and his hair was always hanging over his glasses, and I miss all of his quirks.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to his little brother’s Nerf gun that we all used and all skinned our thumbs on.

“Jesus Christ,” Pike mumbles. “How did I not know about that? I faintly remember hearing something, but I didn’t know Cole was friends with anyone in that accident.”

I sit up straight and nod. “Yeah, Cole…” I pause, trying to find my words. “He had a hard time getting over it.”

Pike’s eyes narrow on me.

“He was supposed to be Nick’s ride that night,” I explain.

Realization crosses his face, and I’m sure he feels like he should know all this, but it makes sense Cole wouldn’t tell many people. He was ashamed.

“We didn’t let each other out of our sight after that,” I tell him.

I was hurting, Cole was hurting, and I was the only one who knew why he felt responsible, so I was the only one he could talk to.

And after a while, it just became habit. Us, side by side. Us, turning to each other. Us, wanting what was familiar, constant, and safe.

Us, holding onto Nick by holding onto each other. We both found ourselves desperate for one true friend. He and I hurting over Nick, but also me just getting away from my ex-boyfriend. It was so easy to dive into each other and escape. So easy.

“I’m so sorry, Jordan,” Pike says. “Are you okay?”

I peer up at him.

“Sorry.” He falters, looking away. “It’s stupid to ask that now, I guess.”

No, not stupid at all. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.

“Everything’s fine. Or it will be,” I say. “It has to be.”

He darts his gaze to me again, and I gesture to the pool.

“I sat at the bottom of a dark pool with my eyes closed until I couldn’t hold my breath anymore. It has to be okay now, right?” I ask.