Don't Fear The Reaper

{xv. it could've been great}

❝The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive.❞

-Looking for Alaska by John Green

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In a stupor, Veronica lets me into her house, proactively takes the umbrella from me and shakes it out, and leads me past the living room into to the kitchen. My eyes pass over the interior of the house, taking in every change - as few and far between as they are. Same wooden counters and white cabinets. Same old wedding picture of Veronica's parents Vernon and Sharon hanging in the hall, the latter looking as arrogant as always. While Vernon works as a much beloved special ed teacher at the elementary school, Mrs. Sharon Lourdes is the chairwoman of the Ashdown PTO, and she's been finding ways to get her daughter to the top since kindergarten. I'm relieved she's nowhere to be seen this afternoon.

Yet, no amount of minor relief about the absence of a bitchy PTO mom can alleviate the feelings I have about having to talk to Veronica.

I shouldn't be coming over to her house, I think to myself. She should be coming over to mine, begging me for forgiveness...

Okay, perhaps that's a bit much, considering it's not like she caused this whole mess on purpose. Still, I can't help but feel angry at her, even as she looks at me with juvenile confusion in her eyes.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asks. Her golden hair is tied back into a braid, and she starts to fidget with it as I stare at her.

"I... want to talk about what happened at the festival. I want us to get on the same page. Find a way to make play practice not as awkward, I guess." Veronica's shoulders sag, making the gray camisole she's wearing wrinkle against her skin. Before I can stop myself, I continue, "Talking about the crash sent me into a panic attack. To know that you'd been lying to me all this time... it made me really angry. And it hurts even more to know what you were lying about."

"That's why I didn't tell you. And I didn't mean to give you a panic attack, Lila. I didn't mean-" her voice cracks- "I didn't mean to kill Will. I'm so, so sorry. After the news of the crash came out, Braden and his friend forced me not to tell anybody. We-we could be charged with involuntary manslaughter."

I feel like I'm being cruel now, explaining my anger when she obviously feels so guilty, but if I don't let it all out now, it'll never come out. So, quickly, I say, "Braden Miller is a jackass. You could've done so much better than him. You shouldn't have tried to impress him, you shouldn't have broken the light, you, you-"

I'm interrupted. Veronica's crying like she did at the festival, falling to the floor as if all her energy has been drained. Hesitantly, I kneel down beside her. The tiles are freezing cold, just like my skin; outside, the rain is somehow heavier, now coming down in sheets that shatter against the windows.

"I hate myself so fucking much. My self-loathing could supply the whole town if they only knew," Veronica finally confesses, choking back a sob. She starts to un-clench her fists slowly, before her anger bursts again and she pounds the floor. "Some part of me wants to go to the cops and confess, to get charged with reckless manslaughter and go to prison like I should. But I can't do that to my parents, because they'd almost surely get fired, and I can't let them be responsible for my mistake. Everybody in this goddamn town is vindictive, and I understand them being vindictive towards me. But my dad is beloved by the kids at the elementary school, and I can't-"

Apparently, what she can't do is get her thoughts out rationally, because the fickle stream of tears interrupts again. Watching her weep, my anger starts to dissipate into pure bitterness.