The Death Date

chapter twenty-five

A/N: Just a reminder that I have posted two chapters today (24 & 25) so make sure you've read chapter 24 before this one!

xxx

It was only nine thirty, and I had already downed three beers and two shots of vodka. My eyes were fuzzy and so was my skin, like it was coated by a warm blanket, but my insides were what was really warming me. Fiery anger still burned in my chest and the alcohol was only adding fuel, but I liked it. I wanted the fire to grow, to spread and engulf and burn everything in its path.

Nick was hosting a "Friendsgiving." Garrett, Aquino, Grayer, a few others, and Warner were scattered around his bungalow, grazing in the kitchen and downing the food with beer and mixed drinks. As soon as I had arrived, I had cracked open a beer, hoping to drown the thoughts that had been running through my mind. My father, my mom, my death date, and everything I wouldn't get to do after. I was angry. And I found myself reaching for another beer after I had polished off the first.

Warner was keeping his distance. He had nodded to me when he arrived, but we hadn't exchanged any words, and that was okay, because I had no words to give him. Only anger. He had immersed himself with the crew, laughing and bullshitting like a person does at a party, but his gaze never lingered from me for long, and each time he crossed my line of sight, I found him watching me.

I threw back another beer.

The buzz arrived quickly, and where I had been introspective weeks before, I now found the rage urging me to engage myself, to take part in the activities happening around me. My senses were heightened; I joined conversations, played games, yelled at the top of my lungs when my favorite song came on, and danced with Nick after slamming two shots of vodka. The fire wanted control, and this was how it got it.

We were in the middle of the living room, stitched together at the hips with my arms clumsily clutching to his in order to keep balance. Back and forth we swayed in time to the upbeat tempo with Nick running his hands all over my back. I felt removed from the scene but somehow still in it, like two parts of me were fighting to be victorious over the other.

The room had started spinning before the song ended, and even though my vision blurred, I still saw Warner's face as though engraved into the side wall, all edges and stone.

I needed air.

Darting from the living room after telling Nick I needed a minute, I clambered through the front door and was immediately welcomed by the cool, night breeze. It rushed over my skin, almost enough to loosen the warm blanket of alcohol, but not quite enough to tame the fire.

Standing at the base of the porch steps, I heard the door crack, signaling my time alone had come to an end.

"Go away, Warner," I said, refusing to meet his gaze.

"No." He was beside me in an instant. The night air charged. "Did something... What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Don't play dumb. It's beneath you."

I rounded on him, furious. "Why are you even here?"

Warner's jaw clenched. "I was invited."

"No," I spat. "Here. With us. In San Diego. You made it pretty clear you wanted to forget everything the moment you left."

"I stayed in touch with Nick," he answered. "We're friends.".

"Don't bullshit me. It's beneath you."

"You know why I'm back."

"You got stationed here, yeah, I get it" – I crossed my arms – "but that's only part of the story."

Warner was contemplative, and I recognized the emotion rising to his features the second it happened. Anger. Good. The playing field was leveled.

"I needed to come back," he stated.

"Why?"

He took a step closer, but instead of retreating, I leaned forward, caught in his magnetic field. "Why are you – Do you even like Nick?"

"Don't make this about me."

"But that's what this is about, isn't it? You. Right?"

Unwrapping my arms, they hung like steel at my side.

"Why are you with him?" Warner continued. "I've watched you two together. It doesn't make sense."

"You wouldn't understand," I said.

"Is it because he was Adam's friend?" Warner asked, saying the name that both bound and drove a wedge between us. "Is that why?"

"Shut up!" I cried. "Don't talk about him. He was my boyfriend!"

"And he was my friend, my best friend and he's gone – just gone, and there's nothing I can do about it but slowly rot in this stupid city and wait for the pain to finally go away."

Hot, sticky tears wet my blazing cheeks. "I didn't kill Adam – it wasn't my fault. I was trying to save his life!" I panted, meaning it on a level Warner could never understand.

"Jesus, Delia. Stop, okay?" Warner demanded without a trace of derision.

"No," I choked. "I suffered for over a year with all your taunts and blame. Do you know what that does to a person? What it did to me? I blamed myself for so long over Adam's death. I shouldn't have made him ride home with Paul – he should have driven himself home like he planned. He only had one drink." A tear pelted my shaking arm.

"Stop! Alright, stop. Do you know why I first moved here? To San Diego my sophomore year?" He edged even closer, lifted a hand towards my arm, but quickly retracted it. "Because, when I was fifteen, my dad died in a car accident." Inhaling sharply, he continued, "I was driving – had just got my permit... we were hit by a man texting..." He paused. "And then with Adam... I've had about five therapists tell me the same thing – misdirected anger. But it didn't really hit home until my current one asked me a question: who will you blame when your grandma dies?" His hand tugged at his hair. "You know the answer to that? Me. I'll blame myself... So, do I blame you for Adam's death? No. No, I don't, Delia. How could I when it was my fault? I should have driven him home myself that night."

One more shaking step and I was right in front of Warner. "You can't blame yourself."

He forced a dry laugh. "I tried that, remember?"

Eyes closed, everything I worked hard to bury unearthed itself at once: a cacophony of memories, sound, and feelings blended together, nearly impossible to bear. From the first moment I met Adam I had feared his death date, and the night of that party I had done everything in my power to stop it from happening. I begged him not to go, begged him to stay home, but, still, he went, and I got a ride last minute with someone from school to try to intervene further. I didn't have my license yet and thought sending him home with Paul, who the only thing I knew about was that he hadn't consumed a drop of alcohol that night, would spare Adam.

If only I had been brave. If only I had let myself hear Paul's death date too, maybe it could have all been avoided. Instead, fate had its way.

They were both killed on impact by a drunk driver one mile from Adam's house. His kind face haunted me for months afterwards, as though being the owner of his death date tied me to him after passing. In one night, I had lost my boyfriend, Warner and Nick had lost their best friend, and the three of us lost all sense of each other.

"If I can't blame myself, then who, Delia? Who?" Warner rasped. "It needs to go somewhere." He then lumbered back up the porch stairs and into the house, leaving me alone with the cool breeze like I had wanted in the first place.