Gift of a Lifetime

III

He just seemed confused, letting go of me. "What do you mean? Like metaphorically?" And when I didn't answer, "On purpose?"

When I frantically shook my head, he seemed desperate to calm me down. "Hey, hey. You're okay. It's going to be fine. You just need to specify what you're talking about, okay?"

I brought him to the back of the school, where Jayden had patched me up that one evening, and we sat down against the bricks.

• • •

"You mean," he seemed at a loss for words, "You died, and then came back . . .like this?"

When I nodded, he looked away in thought.

"I know how this sounds," I said, ready to give up, walk away and drown in the depths of darkness, but he insisted, "No, no."

He believed me?

"Just," he spoke in a low voice, "Tell me why you think you.. killed someone."

I sighed, relief taking over me, and began to search for words.

"Well," I said, unable to create eye contact, "You know . . .life doesn't come from no where, right?

"I read about this kid, my age, who just-" I made this motion with my hands that looked as if I were searching for words, then realized that maybe he got the message, "Died."

"So you're thinking, maybe, his life was taken, and given to you?"

He believed me.

"You believe me," I whispered, finally looking at him. He was most likely staring at me the whole time.

"Of course I do," He put his hand on my shoulder for old times sake, "You were my first friend since I came here. I mean, it's crazy, but anything's possible, right?"

He lowered his gaze in thought, then looked back at me. "Is that really why you look so terrible?"

No, I thought.

We looked at each other for a moment.

Should I tell him? I had to tell him. The words of my first mother echoed inside my head; You only live once.

"Yes."

• • •

The next morning, after another drastic, painful night, I had been staring into my locker when Jayden's presence next to me startled me back to reality.

He hesitated, before leaning forward and talking in a low voice, "Is it true?" He glanced to the side to see if anyone had noticed he was talking to me.

"What?" I sort of had the idea of something being off that day. As I walked into a busy hall on the way to my first class, almost all of the students snuck uneasy sideways glances towards me, whispering into each other's ears.

He leaned back to stand upright again. "You don't know?"

I looked around expectantly after he didn't answer. "No?" He sighed and grabbed my wrist, walking me to the bathroom.

As I saw the sink I was standing at earlier, right before Ryan had walked in, I'd almost stopped in my tracks, but I managed to follow him to the back wall. I walked past him before I noticed he stopped. I was almost against the wall when I saw him peering over me(he was 5'7 while I was 5'4, so it was a bit of a difference). I felt a weird twist in my stomach as I saw the way he was looking at me. His dark eyes looking directly into mine, a gentle and relaxed gaze that made me feel a bit better about what he was about to say.

"I'll just cut to the chase," He broke eye contact, lowering his gaze so he was looking where my chest was, "This kid from that extra class I took, from science, you remember? It was in the middle of class, when he leaned in and whispered, You're friends with that murderer still? And, confused as I was, I didn't say anything back because I thought he was talking to someone else. But he continued, and after I realized that it was me he was talking to and I looked at him, he kept on saying about how he heard that you . . .

He looked in my eyes again. "Did you kill someone?" His words were said so casually, so indifferent, that I, for a moment, thought he was joking. How would he even know about yesterday anyway?

"No."

"You hesita-

"No. I don't know where he got that from."

Jayden lowered his gaze to my neck-chin area. "Okay. I trust you." And, after a moment, "But do you have any idea of where it came from?"

I paused. Could Ryan really have told people? Maybe he was getting too high and it accidentally slipped out?

"I might." Looking at his eyes, dark and empty, I was met with a familiar comfort, telling me that I made a good choice.