Before You Go | A Prequel

3.4 | The Accident

THEY WERE RUNNING. Dodging and weaving through the crowds of leisurely strollers pushing in the opposite direction. Charlie was lagging behind, trying to pause to apologize to each person Nico clipped with the end of the longboard.

Nico's feet skidded to a halt as they reached the gates, he turned, eyes darting desperately until he spotted his friend in the crowd behind him.

"Come on!"  he urged as Charlie sifted through the sea of people, and he didn't wait for him once he'd emerged.

They made it to the car, Nico tugged nervously on the passenger door, only to find it locked, "Dude?"

"Okay— I'm just— hold on?" Charlie shot him an odd look as he jogged to catch up, walking to the other side of the car, "It's not like you can go anywhere until I crank up?"

Nico blinked to roll his eyes, aggravated in his soul at the latter's lack of urgency. He heard the car unlocked and he yanked the door open with a quickness, settling in and shutting it behind him. "Hey? Please, don't—,"

"What?" Nico snapped, and Charlie simply blinked at him.

"Don't... slam my doors, please? We're not all stupid rich like you."

Nico scoffed, lids fluttering as he looked away. He couldn't do this right now.

"Uh huh. Um, can you drive? Please?" he nodded at the steering wheel as he rolled the seatbelt down from the steering wheel, "I'll be sure to... pay for your all your damages?"

Charlie's expression lingered on him for a beat, and finally he sighed as he shifted his car into gear, and Nico murmured a thank you.

"Uh huh," Charlie grunted, as he rested one elbow on the passenger seat, neck crooned over his shoulder as he reversed out the spot.

-"YEAH... Yeah, yeah, I might swing back by, or I'll uh... catch you guys later? Oh yeah, he's right here. Yeah, one sec," Charlie spoke into the phone held to his ear with one hand, the other resting on the steering wheel. He stole a glance at Nico, whose hand had not stopped drumming on a jittering knee since they'd pulled out of the boardwalk parking lot, "Hey? Uh... Lydia wanted to say 'Hey', did you wanna—,"

Nico dismissed the offer to talk with a flip of his hand. He didn't want to speak to anyone, and he sure as fuck didn't want to listen to any more pitied declarations or inquiries about how he was doing or what he needed. What he needed was to get the fuck back to Heavensport Island. His eyes flicked at the time on the console. Six-sixteen PM. Nico swallowed, and his tongue felt like it was filling up his throat. The light changed, finally.

"It's green?" he snapped, "Go! Wh-why are you even talking on the phone? What are you doing?"

"I—," Charlie's eyes darted at Nico, "I see it. I also see the cars in front of me...?"

Nico scoffed. He turned away and a hand stroked his mouth. He was dead. He was so fucking dead.

"Yeah— oh no, no, no. I wasn't talking to you," Charlie continued on his call, "No, no, everything's fine. Yeah."

Nico gritted his teeth as he stared out the window. Everything was not fucking fine. Not in the slightest. A deep breath and he rolled his shoulders back. He was going to fucking die.

The drive back was proving far longer than the drive to the boardwalk, in the most agonizing of fashions, of course. When they finally made it to Bridgestreet, a traffic guard clad in a neon vest was directing all the cars to a single lane of the highway.

"No...," Nico trailed as he sat up, leaning forward to try and peer at the line of vehicles ahead of them. His eyes flicked at the clock again as he shook his head, "No, no, no... wh-what is all of this?"

Charlie shrugged, "Must be an accident. It'll pass, just... sit tight?"

The cars seemed to be backed up all the way to the island. They weren't going anywhere, any time soon.

"Okay," he said, unbuckling, and Charlie gave him a strange look, brows furrowing as he blinked, "Just uh... just let me out here. I'll... walk the rest of the way," and by walk, he meant run for his fucking life.

"What?" Charlie cringed, watching as Nico jiggled with the door handle before pulling on the lock by the window, "It... doesn't work—,"

"Why not? I-I mean, wh-who drives around in a car with broken locks? Isn't that like uh, a safety hazard?" he blinked as he sighed, "Whatever. Just... just let me out."

"What? No?"

"Charlie—,"

"Dude, you're complaining about my car being a safety hazard, yet you want me to let you out in the middle of traffic so you can get smacked by a bus?"

"Where do you see any buses?" Nico sat up and he lurched around, gesturing to both ahead and behind them, "There's no buses! What are you even talking about?"

"Okay... bus, motorcycle, minivan, that's not the point—,"

"No, that is the point? Nothing is moving? Now, let me out?"

"The point is that it's crazy and it's dangerous?"

At a loss for words, Nico wiped his face with his palm, "Charlie, let me out of the car."

"I can't just—,"

"Let me out of the fucking car!"

"I—," Charlie stopped short. And he looked at him with an expression which Nico had not yet seen before, but quickly realized he did not like. "...Okay," he began again after several seconds, "Don't... yell at me? I don't know what's going on with you, but...I didn't do anything, so don't yell at me," he shrugged, turning to face forward again, "Don't ever yell at me."

The guilt washed over Nico with a wave that carried away most of his anger, leaving behind nothing but the fear and the shame. He took in a breath and it was heavy, weighing down his lungs.

"I'm sorry." he said, "You're right. I'm sorry, I—," He'd snapped at Charlie. What the hell was he thinking? It was Charlie, for God's sake. He swallowed, apologizing again. "I'm sorry."

The other man shook his head, shrugging, "It's okay."

But it wasn't. It wasn't.

Nico brought his right fist to his mouth as he turned to look out the passenger window. All the cars, behind and in front of them, stretching for miles on end. He glanced at his watch. It was almost seven.

"Okay. What is going on with you? I mean, I have never seen you like this. Are you okay? What's so important that you have to get back to? I don't understand?"

The tightness only grew in his chest as he stared out the window, at the infinite sea and the sun sinking into it. It was around this same time, only seven days ago the fucking visit from hell— or to it. The sight of the stick swinging toward his face. The thwack at the side of his ribs that still sometimes ached when he breathed too deeply.

"Nico?" He felt a hand on top of his left, stopping his fingers from drumming at his thigh, "Can you atleast look at me?"

He shook his head. He couldn't. His teeth bit into his bottom lip to stop the trembling, ashamed as he felt the stinging at his eyes. He sucked in a breath, and with it, out spilled the confession he couldn't dare say to anyone else.

"Everyday I wake up and I wish I was dead."

Charlie didn't say anything. A single sob choked out of Nico as he still refused to turn. Warm fingers laced into his, squeezing the back of his palm. He squeezed back. Holding on to the hand of his best friend as if it were a lifeline.