Hold On (Book 1 of It's Not Over)

Last Kiss

A/N: There's a reference to the song above in this chapter. The title of this chapter is also the title of the song.

Trigger warning: car accident

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I pulled my hood lower over my head and turned up the volume on my phone, drowning out my dad and Patton's conversation. We'd been on the road for a good two hours and I was already dreading the rest of the trip. I was doing better today than I was yesterday, but I still was not in the mood to be up and about and pretending to be a functional human being.

It was gonna take us a little over 30 hours to get from our old house in Arizona to our new one in Florida. I had looked it up. I knew my dad chose not to fly because Patton and I were both deathly scared of flying, but I had to question his sanity when he chose to drive across country instead of just getting us sleeping pills for the much shorter plane ride. Those 30 plus hours didn't even calculate in pitstops for food, the toilet, to stretch our legs, or to sleep. Granted we really didn't need to make stops for that last one since Patton and I both had our licenses and could legally drive, but we still needed food, the toilet, breaks to stretch our legs, and to put gas in the car. This was not a sane choice that this man made. Not by any means.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Patton turning in his seat and tapping my leg. "'Sup?" I lowered my headphones and gave him my full attention.

"How're you doing back there, kiddo? If you want we can switch seats."

"You don't trust me all the way back here with the cookies, do you?"

Patton feigned offence at my accusation. "You aren't gonna eat them all though, are you?"

"Of course I'm not, Pat. Now, what did you really want to talk to me about?" I straightened up a bit (ha, that's a stretch), and leaned forward.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. You were being really quiet. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's just usually when you bring your guitar in the car with you you play. And you weren't playing."

"You and dad want me to play something?"

"It would be nice to have a family sing-a-long, Virge," our dad chimed in from the driver's seat.

"Well, in that case," I leaned back in my seat and put my headphones back on my head, curling up in the corner and closing my eyes.

"Virgil!" I could hear Patton and dad yell in unison in response to my ignoring their request. I just chuckled in response and ignored them.

It was a good forty minutes or so before I heard my name being called again. Something was different about the tone this time. My eyes shot open in time to see a semi had jack-knifed in front of us and the trailer was coming right towards our car. Unlike my dad and Patton, I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. My mind raced and I quickly grabbed the nylon belt to fasten it, but it was too late.

The screeching tires.

There was a ravine to our right and the bottom of it was coming up pretty quickly. I braced myself for impact, gasping in pain when my body hit the roof of the car.

The busting glass.

"VIRGIL!"

The painful scream that I heard last.

***

"Virge! Time to get up kiddo! Hurry up before Patton eats all of the pancakes!" My dad's voice came from the other side of my bedroom door as he knocked. I groaned in response and sat up in bed, wincing in pain.

It had been three months since our car accident and I still had pain in my ribs from them being broken when our minivan flipped and I hit the roof. Reaching over to my nightstand I grabbed a pain pill and popped it in my mouth, swallowing it with a sip of water before getting out of bed. "I'm up," I groaned, shuffling around my room and throwing on a pair of black skinny jeans, a purple long sleeve shirt, and a black hoodie. I sat on my bed, pulling my socks on when I caught a glimpse of the calendar on my wall and screamed.

"I think he saw what day it was, dad!" I heard Patton call out when I opened my door and ran down the stairs.

"First day of school already?! What?! Why?!" I slammed my hands on the table, eyes showing the dread I felt.

"Relax, Virgil. You'll be fine." How my father could be so calm was beyond me. I looked over at my brother to see if maybe I was hallucinating or if maybe he heard him too, but to my horror, he was also calm. Pale blue eyes staring happily up at me behind black hipster glasses. I seriously think I was the only one in this family with a decent sense of style to be quite honest.

"It won't be that bad, Virgil."

"Don't betray me like that, Patton. We are literally going to be the new guys in senior year at a new high school. Cliques will already have been formed. Friendship groups will be solidified."

"Since when do you care about that kind of stuff?"

"I don't. I just hate standing out."

"Standing out can be scary."

"Your face is scary."

Patton and my dad stared at me for a moment, both blinking in confusion. "You do realize," Patton began.

"We have the same face! Yes! I know! I'm stressed!"

"Maybe you should take an anxiety pill," my dad suggested, talking slowly.

"No. I'm fine. Besides, I took a pain pill when I got up. I don't need any more help falling asleep in the middle of the day." I sighed heavily and took my seat at the table and half-heartedly ate my breakfast.

Once the dishes were done Patton and I grabbed our bags and left for the bus stop. We would only be on the bus until Patton got his cast off. The wreck had broken his arm in several places and left me with really bad migraines so driving was out of the question for the both of us. For Patton until his arm healed and permanently for me. Apparently, since I already had a history of migraines and the concussion I sustained made them worse I was at an even higher risk for epilepsy. Yay.

As we approached the bus stop a couple of girls who were about our age stopped their conversation and stared at us. Patton smiled and waved at the two girls and I hid in my hoodie even more. I knew why they were staring. It was the same reason we attracted attention anywhere we went. It wasn't often you saw blue eyes and red hair on a black guy. Let alone, two black guys. Though, to be fair, Patton's hair was red, while mine was died black with purple tips. Yeah, I know. For someone who hates sticking out, I sure do an awesome job of making sure I do with my hair and my, as my dad describes it, 90s grunge-punk rock-emo-gothic-visual Kei style. And before you ask, yes I was wearing a flannel shirt tied around my waist under my hoodie and Doc Martens.

"Hey there," Patton greeted, his usual perky self.

"Uhh... hi," one of the girls, a blonde in a cheer uniform, replied, eyeing us sceptically.

"Yes, it's his real hair colour. No, we aren't wearing contacts," I said gruffly, tired of the questions that usually came with the look she was giving us.

"Virge..."

"What? I just answered the questions she was gonna ask. Saved her the trouble of asking them," I grumbled, pushing past the cheerleader and her friend when the bus arrived and getting on, taking a seat in the back.

Patton probably apologized to the girls before getting on the bus and sitting beside me in the back. A few other people on the bus stared at us, but I turned on my music, quickly skipping the first song to pop up (three months and I still couldn't listen to Last Kiss by Pearl Jam without freaking out), and ignored them.