[ 4 ]
Lori was getting better. Occasionally she'd fall back into a state of incurable darkness for a week, but her mother would phone me and I'd come round to stroke her hair and tell her it'd all be alright. I couldn't really do much more.
It felt sick. Her mother would call me, me the guy who killed her son, to care for her daughter. And when I'd get there her mother would greet me with compliments about how pure I was and how Lori was lucky to have such a mature man in her life.
I could feel James stood next to his mother looking at her with disdain. How could she love me when I'd killed her son? She didn't know. I felt James' eyes on me. I should be in prison for murder, and instead I was in his home eating dinner with his family in his old chair.
One day Lori refused to come out of her bedroom, and when her mother called me she was in tears. I told her mother that everything was ok and I'd be over right away. How could I say that to the mother of the child I killed? It all seemed... a toxic kind of ironic.
As soon as I got there I sprinted to Lori's bedroom and knocked quietly. I couldn't hear anything in the room so I tried to open the door, but she'd locked it.
"Lori?" I didn't know exactly what to do. "Are you in there?"
"Brady?" It was quiet and shaking, but it was her. The same voice from the cliff top that day. She hadn't told her parents about that night, and I was glad.
Lori might not have been in the right mind to ask why I was at the canyon, but her parents might.
"Can I come in?" I pushed it. The silence fell again and I leant my forehead against the door. Her mother was still in the hallway with her hand over her heart, breathing distractingly loud.
"I don't want to come out." It was a whisper and I could almost see the tears as they dripped to her hers.
"You don't have to. Lori can I come in?" I closed my eyes and hoped she'd let me in and we'd see she was just lying on her bed doing nothing stupid.
"I'm ok." She replied, louder this time. "Mom, I'm ok. I wouldn't-" She lost her breath. "I wouldn't leave you and dad alone. So you don't need to worry..."
Her mother whimpered, her eyebrows forming slopes and her eyes watering. "I know, darling. I just don't want you to be left alone..."
There was silence again. I exchanged eye contact with her mother just as the lock on the door turned. "I'm not coming out." A stubborn voice bargained with us and her mother nodded, ushering me in.
When the door opened I tried to smile but it was more of a wince. Today reminded me too much of that night. How had I persuaded her from the cliff drunk? I couldn't even cheer her up sober.
Her eyes were unbelievably red and puffy and her hair was a greasy mess. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of black pants. I kept my eyes on hers, because my teenage boy mind was very very tempted.
"Sorry." She spoke as I sat on her floor, like I'd been accepted into her own secret club. "You must hate me."
"Why?" If only she knew. The only person in here I hated was myself.
"You were going out with Caleb today, no?" She sat opposite me crossed legged, trying her best to smile, but it looked like it hurt.
"Caleb can wait."
"I didn't mean to drag you into all this." She shook her head, another tear falling. "You don't have to keep babysitting me, you know?" Was it that she felt guilty? How... interesting.
"Trust me, I had no choice." I laughed, letting it all slip for a moment. She sat static for a moment before tilting her head and waiting for me to explain. I looked up. Could this be it? Could this be the moment I confessed my crimes? The moment my little faux world fell down?
No. She was already crying. I was here to cheer her up, not make her hate me. I'd tell her... but not now.
I coughed thinking of anything that would divert the conversation. "I wouldn't be able to leave the girl I love all alone." I laughed. This was so wrong. I did love her. But it was unfair to tell her, because I knew she felt something. To torture her with the question why aren't we together? Isn't fair. Because I won't tell her. Not yet.
But it gave me an excuse for having no choice. I wasn't going to say "I killed your brother and now I have some kind of moral duty to make up for it by caring for you."
Her eyes widened, and her smudged make-up almost faded as she breathed in sharply. "You're not funny, Brady." She crossed her arms, pouting.
I laughed, it was unbelievable how she could be so sad, but so... Lori at the same time. "I wasn't kidding." I tried to keep a straight face, but she was so... cute.
"But..." She furrowed her brow and wiped an old tear from her face. She was too busy contemplating my recent confession to think about crying more. "You've never made a move or... told me or done anything."
"It's not that simple." No shit.
"Well, it is. Because I like you too."
"That just complicates it more." I sighed. She wasn't allowed to like me, I killed her brother. She was meant to hate me.
"How?" She snapped.
"It just does." I killed your brother. "Listen, Lori, we can't... I can't..."
"You don't want to be with me because I'm screwed up, right?" She stood up, throwing herself at her bed. Her voice broke on the last word.
"You're not screwed up." I followed her and sat next to her head buried into her sheets. I put my hand on her back and started stroking, hoping that it gave some sort of comfort. I remembered when I was a little boy my mother always used to rub my back when I cried. It felt protective.
She slowly sat up again and tried to nuzzle herself into my arms. Eventually I wrapped myself around her and sighed, resting my chin on her head.
"I don't understand." She whispered. I shook my head. How could she?
***
After that day, Lori tried extra hard to entice me. We' lightly flirted before, but she was relentless now. At school she joked around and sat on my lap, stroking the back of my neck, waiting for me to give in and kiss her.
She invited me round after school to watch some kind of movie, but she insisted on watching it in her underwear. Her red, lacy underwear.
"You're killing me." I pulled the bed sheets over my face, laughing with my cheeks glowing the same red as her bra. I hoped James wasn't watching now. I imagined his hatred towards me growing every day.
She never asked me again, though, why I wouldn't. I just think she assumed I didn't want to ruin our friendship, but it didn't stop her from tugging on my heart.
We went out to the cinema with Caleb and a few friends one day after school and she brought us a coke to share forgetting a second straw, though. And when there was a jump scare she'd grip my hand and I had to fight everything not to let her fingers entwine with mine. She knew that I wouldn't, and she knew it was just a joke.
But she didn't know how much I wanted to and how much it was making me question ever telling her anything. We could date, I just wouldn't have to tell her about James. We could grow up together and have kids and die together and she'd never know and we'd be happy.
But I knew that fantasy was just that, a fantasy. The guilt outweighed any kind of love any day.
"Dude. She's literally begging for it." Caleb elbowed me as we walked out the exit. "What's wrong with you?"
A lot. A lot is wrong with me.
The main thing being I shouldn't even be here. I shouldn't be enjoying life this much, I should be punished at least somehow, not rewarded by dating his god damn sister.
