Carissa

I'm furious. I can't even comprehend why I'm so mad, but I am.

   It's likely because there's no way this is a coincidence. It's not possible. So that means Jameson somehow tracked me down and befriended me, for whatever reason. That means it wasn't an accident that we met. And whatever has happened between us isn't real.

   For the rest of the week, I ignore him. He tries to sit with me Tuesday, but I don't even look at him. The next day, he goes back to his seat a few seats away. He gives me space. He doesn't know why I'm mad, but besides asking me a few times, he doesn't push it. He texts me a few times that week, but I don't reply. I avoid the bench outside my lab, too, but on Friday, he is sitting there as I leave my class, after lunch.

   He jumps up and starts walking besides me. I still ignore him.

   "It's been four days," Jameson says. "Can you at least tell me what I did wrong?"

   I don't even look over at him, I just keep walking. I'm going to keep walking until I'm in the other building. I take a deep breath but I don't want to give in. I feel like if I keep ignoring him maybe he'll forget about me.

   "Carissa, please." He reaches out and touches my arm.

   I stop walking and snap my head over to him. "Don't touch me."

   He looks shocked, and then tries to regain his composure. "Honestly, if you tell me why you're not talking to me, I'll leave you alone." His voice is so quiet. "I just... I don't know what I did."

   "I don't owe you anything," I say, without thinking. "I don't have to talk to you."

   "No, of course not. Carissa, something happened earlier this week and I just-"

   "Your brother. Andy. He..." I can't say it, but I don't have to.

   Jameson's face goes pale and he stumbles a little. I have to get to class, so I shake my head and keep walking again. Surprisingly, Jameson doesn't follow me.

*

I'm so sorry. I didn't know how to tell you. I did find you on purpose. But once I met you, I wanted to be friends, for real. Not because of Andy.

   He texts me that evening, while I'm at work.

   I stare at the text for an hour before replying. So now he knows what I stopped talking to him. He knows that I know his secret, what he was hiding from him for a month.

   That was horrible of you. I thought I made a real friend, and... you were just using me, I finally send back.

   Jameson: I wasn't. I swear. At first I was just going to tell you who I was and ask some questions. But then we got to know each other.

   Me: I don't feel like I know you at all now.

   Jameson: Carissa, im sorry.

   I go to bed that night thinking about him. I wake up thinking about him. He did find me for a reason, which is pretty creepy. But I suddenly feel like I need to know why he tracked me down. I need to give him a chance to explain. I also miss him, which is crazy.

   The next afternoon, while I'm at the store working again, I pull out my phone.

   Me: Can you meet me at Traynor Park at 6PM?

   Jameson texts back a few minutes later. Yes, of course. See you there.

   I'm so, so nervous as I leave the store, when Mr. Thomason gets there, and walk the fifteen minutes to the park. It's just past my old high school, which isn't far from my house. I'm going to at least let him explain. If in the end I can't accept it, so be it. At least I'll know.

   He's already there, sitting on a empty swing, when I cross the road and go into the park. I watch as he lifts his hand to wave at me and then look down at my feet as I make my way over. He's wearing jeans and a black hoodie.

   "Hey," he says, standing.

   "Hi."

   "Thanks for... meeting me."

   I nod and sit down into the swing beside him. He sits back down and kicks his legs a little.

   "I just thought... maybe you could tell me why you... you know... found me, " I begin.

   For a moment, he looks surprised. Maybe he wasn't expecting me to want answers. Maybe he thought I was okay with us being friends even after this. He squeezes his hands together and looks over at me.

   "I just... I really want to know more. My mom made us move to Tampa... and I wasn't ready to leave here. She wanted to try to move on. But I just... I thought maybe if I got to talk to you-"
"I've spent years having to talk about the accident," I interrupt. "In therapy, and with everyone who always brings it up."

   He runs a hand through his hair and nods. "I know. I mean, I can imagine. But you got to live. You are still here. Andy isn't."

   For whatever reason, this does something to me. It's a shock, hearing him say that. It's true, but I haven't had to talk to anyone who was related to the boys in the accident.

   "I just want to know why," Jameson goes on.

   "He was in the back seat, with his friends. There were four of them back there and they weren't wearing seat belts," I began. "I didn't know them. They were just at the party and the driver -"

   "Taylor." Jameson says this name like a robot.

   "Yeah, he's the only one I knew, sort of. He was driving all these kids home and I asked if I could get a ride. My friends had already left the party and I just wanted to go home," I go on.

   "So, you were in the front seat?"

   I nod. "Me and this guy, Mason, we were both in the passenger seat. He put the seat belt on me. We were hit from behind. Two blocks from my house. They were taking me home first."

   Jameson looks at his hands for a minute and takes in a breath. I watch him. This is the first time I've talked to someone related to any of the guys in the car. The guys who died. My parents didn't let the media or the families talk to me. It was six months after the accident before I even had any memory of that night. I only talked about this with my therapist.

   "I know it was... four years ago. I know you almost didn't make it ..." Jameson finally goes on.

   "How do you know that?" I ask quickly.

   Jameson smiles. "We moved to Tampa just before the one year anniversary of the accident. Before that... I tried to find out everything about the accident. No one would let me talk to you. I went to court when the other driver was charged with second degree murder. Drunk driving. He killed six kids."

   "Shit. My parents shielded me from a lot if that," I admit.

   "Good for them. It was horrible. "

   I look away, and swing a little with my feet barely touching the ground.

   "I'm really sorry for... stalking you. For finding you like this." He smiles but I can tell he actually feels bad for how this all went down. "I was supposed to pick up Andy that night. He called me, but I told him to get a ride with Taylor, because I was... with my girlfriend at the time. I regret literally everything about the night."

   "I'm sorry. That's horrible," I say right away. "And... It's actually okay. That you... tracked me down." The words just come out.   I was so angry with him over the last week, but I also missed him. I missed my friend. The fact that we didn't become friends by accident is just a blip. But I wonder if we can still be friends, now? "I'm sorry that I was in the car with your brother and that..."

   "Don't say that. Don't apologize for living." Jameson shakes his head.

   "Okay." I don't know what else to say, so I stand up.

   "See you on Monday?" he asks, and it's obvious he's unsure about what I'll say.

   "Yeah," I finish, before I turning and walking away.