Page 128 of Keep Me Never
Karma does come around and my future is the price.
And it’s confirmed several hours later when the doctor comes back into the room looking grim.
It’s late—late enough that the stars are already out, mocking me from above, like the heights I’ll never reach no matter how much I try, no matter how hard I work. I’ll always be below, under,less than.
Darkness surrounds me in every sense of the word.
I don’t even remember walking here. One minute, I was stumbling away from the hospital, and the next, I’m back on campus, climbing the old metal steps at the practice field, finding myself halfway up the home-side bleachers.
I look down when my feet start to wobble, realizing I’mstanding on a chair, and I hop to the next one, nearly fumbling forward and rolling onto my ass, but I catch myself before that can happen, glaring down at my hand, the tape half torn and my fingers red and swollen.
Probably should have used my other hand, but it’s occupied.
What’s it matter, anyway?
I don’t need them for anything. Not anymore.
Shrugging my shoulder, I take a drink.
The golden liquor burns as it goes down my throat, and I laugh, this sad, stupid sound that slips out when I remember how many hours I spent on this field the last four years.
Wasted.
Just like every other minute I have spent on this campus.
All for fuckingnothing.
I take another drink.
Across the field, the scoreboard mocks me, dead and black, just like every path forward I thought I had. A shaky breath escapes, and I tip my head back, eyes burning.
It’s not fair, not after how hard I fought, not after everything I gave.
I know I made some mistakes over the years, but I own those. I’ve apologized. I’ve been a better friend. A better brother and uncle.
I learned how to love and I’ve let go of my selfishness.
I’ve grown. I have, I swear it.
So then why?
My shoulders start to shake, and I can’t stop it. I stand suddenly, wobbly on my feet as I make my way down the bleachers. I hop the railing near the bottom and stumble, catching myself before I hit the track.
I make my way to the center, right at the fifty-yard line.
I want to call her. Paige.
I want to tell her that I love her, and I miss her, and I wish she were here.
To beg her not to fucking leave me like everything else in my life has, but what would I even say?
My name echoes faintly behind me, and my eyes clench shut.
Great, now I’m imagining things.But then I hear it again, clearer.
“Chase?”
My head snaps up, eyes narrowing…on the last person I would have expected to see here right now.
