First Chances Page 7

  As Luca’s words sank in, my stomach sank right along with them. Goddamnit, I hated to admit it, but he made a great point. Hadie was treating me this way because she expected me to always be there.

  “He’s right,” Ashton agreed with a nod. “I mean, he’s wrong about Hadie, but he’s right about the way you’re being treated. When I was too engrossed in another guy to realize what Luca meant to me, the fear of losing him was what knocked some sense into me.”

  They were both right. Their words were making complete sense. I had been there for Hadie through everything, yet she continued to push me away. Maybe it was about time I distanced myself and did my own thing. At the end of the day, I had my own shit to deal with and I couldn’t emotionally be there for a girl who didn’t want me to exist.

  Especially if she was going to open up to some other guy who barely knew her.

  I deserved her attention, not her ignorance, and it was about time I demanded it.

  Chapter Nine

  Hadie

  I didn’t want to be here with these people I didn’t know, that didn’t know me.

  My parents were completely overreacting by sending me to a support group. I had seen a counselor one-on-one right after Lincoln’s death, but this was completely different. This was me sitting in a room with strangers and talking about my feelings.

  My eyes searched the cramped, badly lit room at the curious faces staring back at me. The room had pop art style posters on the faded brick walls, the chairs were mismatched and placed in a circle, but other than that there was nothing that really stood out about the space.

  The support group was held on the first floor of a multi-purpose office building. The floor above us had some kind of dance class in session judging from the sounds of jazz music that was leaking downstairs.

  I made my way further into the room and sank into a stiff, wooden chair. The other kids were engaged in conversation with each other, and I assumed they’d been doing this for a while.

  I stood out the way a weed stood out in a garden of flowers. I was the new girl to the group. I didn’t think I would ever fit in. I really wished my parents hadn’t freaked out on me over hair. Even though my mom had demanded I dye it back to a boring brown, I’d stubbornly refused to listen to her, so it was still the color of violets.

  Well, I guess the binge drinking and smoking hadn’t helped my case either. Even my parents had a limit, and I had finally crossed it. They thought that my coming here and being around teenagers my age would help me. They were wrong.

  My eyes widened as a familiar figure walked into the room. “Eddie?” I called out, my heart leaping into my throat.

  I had never been so happy to see him. Now I wouldn’t have to go through this support group thing alone. I had no idea that he came here, but I was glad that I wasn’t surrounded by people who were foreign to me.

  At the sound of my voice, Eddie glanced in my direction, studying me for a second. Then, very quickly, he gave me a curt nod and took the seat on the opposite side of the circle to me, beside a pretty girl with blonde hair who immediately broke into a smile and began rapidly speaking to him.

  Disappointment sank into me. I knew I’d been horrible to him and disregarded the concern he’d shown me, but a pathetic part of me had hoped for more of an acknowledgement. I knew it was hypocritical of me, but his distance stung just a little. After all, Eddie had been there for me when I had been at my lowest.

  I watched him closely as he smiled and nodded at whatever the girl was saying to him. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how close they seemed. I wondered if there was anything going on between them or if they were just friends.

  Just then a tall guy walked into the room carrying a folder in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and had a pleasant look about him. Something in his face made me immediately think that he was probably a good guy.

  “Hey, guys, how was your weekend?” he asked, with a wave of his folder.

  “Pretty good,” a dark-skinned boy said, jumping to his feet and pulling up a chair for the older guy.

  “Thanks, Ben,” the guy said with a nod, sitting down and balancing his folder on his lap.

  A lull fell through the room as everyone’s conversations ceased. I was guessing this was our counselor, despite his casual attire of jeans and a blue, plaid shirt. Up closer, he looked even younger and there was something about his face that was familiar to me, though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

  His eyes fell on me, and he gave me a grin. “Hi, there! You must be our newest member, Hadassah. I’m Philip; I spoke to your parents the other day. Thanks for joining us.”

  “It’s Hadie.” I felt my cheeks flame as everyone’s eyes fell on me.

  “Ok, got it. Everyone, let’s give a warm welcome to Hadie.”

  The other kids clapped in unison, and I felt a trail of heat travel up my neck.

  Philip gave me an encouraging smile. “Hadie, why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?”

  “Um.” I fidgeted nervously with the edge of my sweater. I never knew what you were supposed to say when someone put you in a room full of strangers and asked you to introduce yourself. “Uh.”

  “Why don’t you start with your age and your favorite movie?” he suggested, that smile still on his face.

  I raised a brow. My favorite movie? That didn’t seem like the normal kind of thing to bring up in a support group. Not that I knew much about support groups. Well, I guess that was easy enough to answer.

  “I’m seventeen,” I said without pause, “and my favorite movie is Little Women.”

  Philip clapped his hands together as though I’d said something amazing. “That’s great, Hadie. We’re so glad to have you with us tonight.”

  And then he moved on. He started going around the small circle, asking everyone else how they were doing and if they wanted to share anything today. Some of the kids gave short answers; others took up ten minutes and seemed to want to talk endlessly.

  The way everyone spoke made me feel like I’d picked up a book and started reading it from the middle; I’d missed out on the beginning of everyone’s stories and had to figure it out as I went.

  As I listened, I let my eyes dart to Eddie from time to time. I studied the tattoos on his forearms and the interesting piercings in his ears. For some reason, I wanted him to look at me. I wanted him to acknowledge me. But he didn’t. He simply studied each person as they spoke, a look of polite interest on his face.

  “Eddie, would you like to share anything?” Philip asked.

  I straightened up, wondering what Eddie could possibly want to share. I hadn’t even begun to think up the possibilities of why he was here. Who had he lost? What was going on in the always calm and composed boy’s life that no one knew about?

  Eddie got to his feet and maintained eye contact with Philip as he began to speak. “We were cleaning out the attic the other day and found old pictures of our dad. Hailie started asking about him and where he was.” He paused, his face pinching as though he was in pain.

  I stared at him wide-eyed, surprised by how nervous he seemed to be. What was the deal with Eddie’s dad? From what little I knew, he had been deployed to some faraway country. Had something happened to him during his absence?

  “Go on, Eddie,” Philip said with an encouraging smile.

  Eddie cleared his throat and glanced off to the side. “I froze. I didn’t know what to say to her. Do I lie and make her believe that there was a chance he would come back, or do I tell her the truth and make her lose hope?”

  A heavy silence descended upon the room. Eddie’s words hung in the air. Everyone’s attention was on him. He had a way with words; he had a way of speaking that was easy to relate to.

  The girl beside him was staring up at him in admiration, and once again jealousy stirred in my chest. I tried to push it away, but it stayed there along with a bad taste in my mouth.

  “That’s a
difficult question,” Philip said, his eyes sympathetic, “but I think we always have to have hope even when it seems like there is nothing left to lose.”

  “That’s what I said,” Eddie responded with a wry smile. His eyes flickered over to me, and I immediately looked away.

  The girl sitting beside him—her name was Fiona—stood up and began speaking in an animated tone. I didn’t pay much attention to her, or the kids who spoke after her. I was too focused on Eddie as I tried to read him and figure out what was going on with his dad.

  “Hadie?”

  I jerked upright at my name. Glancing up, I saw that Philip was studying me.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Is there anything you would like to share with us today?”

  “Uh.” I glanced around the circle of strangers. My thoughts were rushing through my head. There was so much I could say, so much on my mind that constantly bothered me, but I didn’t want to talk to these people about any of those things. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Philip asked kindly.

  I nodded, feeling uncomfortable. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Philip didn’t push me to share. Instead, he began talking about his own struggles in trying to overcome the passing of his mother five years ago and how it had affected him mentally and emotionally. He continued by saying that the best way to cope was to deal with it in our own way, but to always surround yourself with people who loved you.

  “Loss isn’t about losing yourself,” he said, his eyes serious as he looked around at us. “It’s about being at your lowest and finding yourself again.”

  And we were done. As I stood up and headed out the door, I didn’t feel like Philip had tried to pry anything out of me. In fact, I felt like I had been allowed to do things at my own pace. That didn’t mean I’d liked being here; it just meant it had been a little different to what I’d expected.

  The cold rushed to meet me when I stepped outside. I hugged myself as I searched the parking lot for my parents’ car. No sign of them yet. I sat down on the bottom step of the front steps and watched the other kids leave.

  Just across the road and downhill, I could see a covered bridge, illuminated by the closest streetlamp. Snow had fallen on the bridge, making it seem magical from this distance. A part of me longed to go there, so I decided to walk over there and take a closer look.

  Just as I rose to my feet, the front door shut and footsteps fell on the front steps.

  “Maybe we could do dinner and a movie?” a girl’s eager voice reached my ears.

  “Okay, sounds good,” came a familiar male’s voice.

  “Perfect! I’ll message you. Good night.”

  “Good night, Fiona.”

  I didn’t bother to turn around. I already knew the voices belonged to Fiona and Eddie.

  A twisting started up in my chest at their conversation, and I increased my pace as I crossed the street and made the short walk downhill to the covered bridge. There were soft steps in the snow behind me, and without turning around I knew Eddie had followed me.

  As I reached the bridge, I leaned over the railing just by the entrance and looked over down at the frozen creek below. My eyes fell on a garden just off to the side of the creek that was lit up by hanging lamps. There were three benches placed around the edge, and I imagined the garden was a beautiful place during the spring and summer, filled with flowers and lots of color.

  Now it was just dead. Devoid of life. The dead garden.

  Eddie was also leaning on the railing beside me, his eyes also focused on the dead garden. It was like I didn’t exist. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just stayed where I was, hoping my parents showed up soon to save me from this awkwardness.

  Minutes passed by and Eddie still didn’t say anything. Just when I thought I couldn’t take the silence anymore, I noticed my parents’ car pull into the parking lot across the street.

  Relief shot through me, and I hurried back across the road to where they’d pulled up. As I pulled open the door and climbed in, my mom was staring at something in the darkness behind me.

  “Isn’t that Eddie?” she asked.

  I took a deep breath and finally glanced over my shoulder. Eddie had followed me back up the street and was now approaching the car, only a few feet away from me. I still couldn’t believe he hadn’t spoken to me. What was up with that?

  Biting away the feeling of rejection that washed over me, I pulled the door shut. “Yeah, I guess it,” I responded simply, refusing to look back at him.

  Mom rolled down my window and called out to him. “Hi, Eddie! How are you?”

  “I’m good, Mrs. Swinton. And you?” he responded.

  “Great, Eddie,” Mom said, a smile in her voice. Why couldn’t she be this nice to Three? “Do you need a ride home?”

  “No thanks, Mrs. Swinton. I’m waiting for my cousin.”

  “Okay, dear, it was good seeing you,” Mom said, sounding disappointed.

  Dear? Dear? Had my mom just called Eddie “dear”? Holy crap. Hell would have to freeze over before she called Three “dear”.

  “You too, Mrs. Swinton. Good night.”

  I still refused to look at him as Mom pulled away from the curb and drove out of the parking lot. I wondered if she had noticed our iciness towards each other. If she had, she didn’t say anything about it, and I was glad for it.

  There was nothing to say about what had transpired between us, because it had in fact been nothing. Wasn’t that what I had wanted this entire time? For Eddie to leave me alone? Then why did I feel sick thinking about it?

  Chapter Ten

  Eddie

  Even though I knew Hadie was going to be here tonight it didn’t make it any easier being around her.

  I’d recommended the support group to Hadie’s parents weeks ago, but it was only a few days ago that Mrs. Swinton had called me, worried and stressed out of her mind, to find out the exact details about it. I had a feeling Hadie’s purple hair was what had pushed her parents to finally send her to the support group.

  Mrs. Swinton had told me she wouldn’t tell Hadie that I’d suggested this particular support group, considering Hadie was so against going and didn’t need another reason to stay away from me.

  Yet, Hadie had seemed surprised—upset even—that I hadn’t spoken to her tonight, even though I was simply giving her what she wanted. It was both easy and hard at the same time. Easy because I could stop trying so hard, but hard because despite everything, I still cared about her.

  I could do this. I could stay away from her. Even though Lincoln had wanted me not to give up on her, I didn’t think he had expected Hadie to become a completely different person after his death. He couldn’t expect me to help someone who refused it.

  In a way, I was mad at him. I was mad that he had ruined Hadie for other guys. Lincoln was a great person and it was hard to live up to that. How could I ever mean something to her the way he had?

  “Are you ready to leave?” Philip asked from behind me.

  I turned to find him standing beside me, staring out across the parking lot that was dotted with a few remaining cars. The jazz dance class would be over soon and the parking lot would be desolate.

  “Yeah, let’s go,” I said, trying to appear unaffected by all the thoughts raging in my head.

  We hurried through the engulfing cold to Philip’s car and got in. He started the engine and turned the heat on to full blast before pulling out of his spot.

  Reaching over, I turned on the radio for background noise—otherwise my thoughts would eat me up alive.

  Philip was my mom’s sister’s son, and probably my favorite cousin. Even though he was about six years older than me, we were pretty close, and he’d been there for me after my dad had walked out on us. I’d started going to his support group when he’d first started it up a year ago, and I felt as though I was starting to grow into a stronger person.

  That was why I’d recommended it to Hadie’s parents after Lincoln’s death—bec
ause talking to people about your problems really did help. And Hadie definitely needed help.

  A clear warning sign of serious inner turmoil was when someone made a drastic change to their appearance. They thought that by changing their exterior, it would helped them feel better internally, but that was never really the case. You couldn’t exorcise your demons without facing them first.

  I could tell Hadie’s demons were taking over, and I really hoped this would help her in some way. A lot of the people in the group had experienced loss and were trying to heal. I knew if Hadie continued counseling, she could learn a lot from us.

  “You look like you have a lot on your mind,” Philip said quietly.

  My cousin knew me too well, and he could see right through the feelings I had for Hadie. He was great at what he did, and the best part was he was able to make you talk without making you feel uncomfortable.

  “I’m just glad Hadie finally showed up,” I said, releasing a long breath. “She needs to open up to people again. I think she’s starting to lose sight of the person she used to be.”

  I knew what that was like. When Dad had bailed on us, I’d felt like an alien for many months. It had taken me a while to feel normal again and to do things like a normal teenager would.

  “Hmm.” Philip murmured. “Just make sure you don’t lose yourself trying to find her.”

  I turned to him in surprise. His words were unexpected. What exactly did he mean by them?

  As though sensing my confusion, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. They were the same shade of hazel-green as mine. “Sometimes it’s easier for us to focus on other people’s problems rather than focus on our own. What matters is that you try to be the best version of yourself for you.”

  I nodded in understanding, knowing he was right. It was easier for me to worry about Hadie because it distracted me from my own loss. It distracted me from losing my own father. Sometimes I had a hard time coming to terms with that.

  One of the reasons why I still went to the support group was because even after a year, the problems still never really went away. There wasn’t a time limit on how long it took a person to move past a terrible event in their life. We moved on when it didn’t hurt as much anymore; when the pain turned into a scar that you could explain with a shrug of your shoulder.