Drift [ON HOLD]

Drift

I'm not incredibly confident about this one, but I have a lot more written that I haven't posted yet. I thought I'd wait to add more until I know whether or not anyone's even interested in this particular story. So, please, if you enjoy it and would like to read more, tell me and I'll continue with it. Thanks!

"Alex, come on." I say. I want to leave. I need to go home.

"What's the matter with you, Liz?" He says, giving me that weird look he gets when he's thinking about how totally un-cool I am. For once in my life, that look doesn't bother me. This time, I just want to go home, and he has the car keys.

"You know what the matter is, nimrod." I bite back.

He shrugs and turns to go. I grab his arm. "Wait! Alex, please! Just give me the keys! I'll have Mom or Dad pick you up afterward. Please?" I'm on the verge of full-on begging.

He sighs. "Liz, you're sixteen years old. Grow up. Move on. So he breaks your heart, who cares? Just let it roll off your back. Or, even better, use it to increase your strength and stability."

He flings an arm across my shoulder and looks up at the bright lights of the boardwalk. I used to love the boardwalk. Its sounds: screaming from the roller coasters and the excited giggles of small children, with the soft lull of the ocean waves out by the beach. But tonight, it feels empty, dull. That cool ocean breeze that's coming in off the sea is a little melancholy this time.

I pull my dark hair out from under Alex's arm. It's French-braided tonight. Kendra did it in the car on the way here. I sigh. I suppose I should be really, really grateful to Alex for letting me tag along with him and his soon-to-be-seniors buddies, but I'm not.

Alex starts steering me down the boardwalk toward Kendra, Megan, and Derek, who are laughing at some guy who's just gotten off a roller coaster puking.

"Alex, stop." I say, ducking out from underneath his arm.

He swivels around and grabs my shoulders. "What the hell is with you tonight?" He says. "What's it gonna take for you to get past this funk you're always in, now? You used to be cool, Liz, but I dunno anymore."

I pull the thin flannel shirt I'm wearing tighter around my body. It's one of Alex's. I decided to wear it over my light gray, tight, long-sleeved shirt. It gets cold at the boardwalk at night.

"Alex, gimme a break!" I say, not wanting to cause a scene.

"A break?" He scoffs. "A break! You've had nothing but breaks from everybody in this town for the past eight weeks! You've been bitchy and antisocial and obnoxious for nearly two months! Grow up and get on with your life, man! I mean-" he stops mid-sentence. He's probably seen the look on my face.

I'm shocked, and now more than a little angry. "What? You mean what?" I reach out and shove him. "Go on, big guy! Say it!"

"You're pathetic!" He shouts, right in front of everybody on the boardwalk. Kendra, Megan, and Derek recognize Alex's voice and stop laughing. Megan rushes over.

"What's going on, you guys?" She asks in her soft, future-librarian voice.

"You make me sick sometimes!" Alex continues, ignoring Meg. "You're so closed off! You're depressing to be around! Sometimes I wish you'd just gone ahead and fulfilled the purpose of that fucking note!"

People have stopped to watch the feud, but now there's no more to show. I'm struck dumb by what he's just said. Fulfilled the purpose of the note? I know what that means, but why would he want me to do it? I'd wanted to at the time, crushed and broken as I was over Blake, but I'd known, even at the time, that I didn't have the strength or the willpower to do something like that.

I shrink away from him, a horrified expression on my face. Without a word, I duck around him and head for the boardwalk exit. I'll walk home if I have to.

Behind me, I hear Derek say, "Hey, come on, man! What the hell was that? Do you usually talk that way to your little sister?"

Outside the boardwalk, I collapse into sobs. All my life, I've wanted to be Alex's friend, to be the sister he wanted. And tonight, I thought I might have the chance. So much for that.

I sit on the sidewalk and cry it out. But the tears keep coming. Some are for Blake, some for my wounded, scarred self, but most of them are for the meager relationship that I once had with my brother, now ripped to shreds.

The tears don't stop and I decide to start walking home whether or not I can see. I know it's a stupid idea, but, at the moment, I don't care. I find the crosswalk near the major entrance to the boardwalk and prepare to cross Beach Street.

My vision fuzzy, I misread the "Walk/Don't Walk" sign and I step out at the wrong time.

All I see of the silver Honda is its blinding headlights, and then the impact sends me toppling head-over-heels into darkness. Way to go, Elizabeth.