Tell Me Why Page 2

  Caleb grabbed my upper arms and shook me. “Don’t ever talk like that again! Do you hear me? None of this was your fault. I don’t care if you did miss something. Jessi was a big girl, capable of making her own choices. She chose to kill herself,” his voice trembled as he continued, “and even if we did miss something, it was still her choice. All the blame for that rests on her. Do you understand? She could’ve come to anyone of us for help . . . me, you, my mom—your parents, even. Instead, she ended it. Her fault, not yours. Stop trying to take the blame.”

  “Anna? Caleb?” My mom’s voice called, interrupting us before I could reply. “Is everything okay?”

  Turning, I saw her coming down the path toward us.

  “We’re fine, Mom. I just had a bit of a panic attack in the church and needed to get some fresh air.”

  Her eyes drifted to where Caleb still roughly held me in his grasp. Releasing me and stepping away, the red marks where his fingers had been fading away quickly. “Sorry,” he apologized immediately. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Shaking my head, I replied, “You didn’t hurt me. Thanks for listening to me, though.”

  “And you’ll remember what I said?” he asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

  “I’ll try.”

  He sighed in exasperation.

  “I’ll try harder.” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Sorry, but that’s the best I can give you right now.”

  “You’d better get inside, Caleb,” my mom spoke up. “They’re singing the closing hymn. I’m sure your mom will need you. I doubt Hank will stick around any longer than necessary.”

  “I’m sure you’re right about that. Talk to you lovely ladies later.” He winked at me before hurrying back inside.

  Mom and I watched him go.

  “It’s amazing to me how that kid came from Hank, unless Hank gave him every single good characteristic he had and didn’t keep any for himself. Caleb is so kind and considerate of everyone and Hank is . . . well, Hank. I’ve never seen two people more unalike.”

  “Caleb has a heart of gold.” I agreed, slipping an arm around her waist as we began strolling back toward the church together.

  She hugged me around my shoulders. “Kind of like you, huh?”

  I gave a short snort in reply. “Hardly.”

  “Are you going to be all right, sweetie? Your dad and I have been really worried about you for the last few days.” Concern was written all over her face, her furrowed brow mixing with the sorrow in her eyes.

  “I don’t know how to go on without Jessi,” I admitted, sharing the ache inside me.

  She squeezed me lightly. “You don’t have to. Keep her alive in your heart and, for now, focus on living one day at a time. That’s all any of us can do.”

  Chapter Two

  Caleb-

  Listening to the arguing downstairs made me want to throw my clothes into my bag and head back across the harbor to the loft I shared with the guys downtown. Guilt kept me from actually doing it. There was no way I could abandon Danica right now and leave her alone with my dad.

  Fighting was one of the primary reasons I’d hightailed it out of this place as soon as I was able. I couldn’t take the constant bickering. Living with my old man was pure hell, plain and simple. Bitter and angry had been his key attitudes since my mom left us, when I was little. How he even managed to find someone to marry him again, I would never know. Maybe Danica had been hoping to find someone to be a father to Jessi, but if that were the case then she’d struck out big time. My dad wasn’t even a good father to me, his own flesh and blood, let alone Jessi.

  Images from the night he beat up Danica flashed through my mind. I could still hear her protests ringing in my ears as I dialed 911. She didn’t want to make my dad even angrier. I didn’t care. He needed to pay for what he’d done. He served a year in prison, but she didn’t leave him. She stayed and was a good mom to Jessi and me. That year was one of the happiest I remembered. Dad was released and never hit her again, that I knew of, but he was still violent. Yelling and throwing things across the room if things didn’t go just the way he wanted them to, became the norm. I wondered if she would stay with him, now.

  Even though I came back often, to make sure she and Jessi were doing okay, it was never a place I wanted to be. Glancing around at the shelves holding memorabilia from my high school days, I realized that other than taking my guitar and music, I’d left most of my previous life here in my room—abandoned. Now that Jessi was gone, I didn’t think I wanted to ever be in this house again. There wasn’t anywhere I could look and not see her presence.

  Reaching for the notebook I wrote my lyric ideas in, I flipped to where I’d been working on my latest song, and froze. My hands trembled when I saw the folded piece of paper with my name on it stuck between the pages. I recognized the handwriting immediately. Opening it carefully, the first few words gave me pause.

  “Caleb, please forgive me for what I’m about to do . . .”

  It was a suicide note. Jessi had left one, right where I’d find it. She knew me so well.

  Devouring the words on the paper, I thought my heart would explode as I read them; she was so upset, conflicted, and lost—trapped and confused with no way out. Tears fell down my cheeks, some dropping onto the handwritten letter, slightly blurring the words. It didn’t matter though, the damage had already been done, her message delivered.

  Whatever possible reasons I’d invented in my mind for her death were all wrong—every last one. It was all my fault. Her suicide was on my hands, the same as if I’d pulled the trigger and shot her. Crushing agony flowed through me—every word ripping me to shreds. Crumbling the paper into a ball, I held it tightly as I dropped to my knees and wept.

  “Jessi, forgive me, please.” I gasped, the ache inside tearing through my soul. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know!”

  ***

  “Dude. I think you’ve had enough.” Riley grabbed the bottle of Jack from me, emptying the small remainder down the sink. I was too drunk to even protest. Scrubbing my face with my hands, I let out a deep sigh and leaned over the island bar. “I’m surprised you can even stay on that stool with the way you’ve been drinking the last three days.” He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he stared at me. “And when was the last time you took a shower?”

  Glancing down at my wife beater tank and baggy athletic shorts, I couldn’t even remember when I put them on. “I dunno,” I slurred.

  “Come on. Let’s get you in the shower. That’ll help you feel better.” Riley came around the counter and grabbed my arm.

  “Nah, I don’t wanna,” I replied, shoving him away. “Just l-l-leave me alone.”

  “Stix, give me a hand, would ya?” Riley said, looking past me to where Stix was sprawled on the faux leather sofa watching television.

  “If he wants to get drunk off his ass, then let him. It’s fine by me,” Stix said nonchalantly.

  “He’s been drunk off his ass for days now, and if he keeps this up, he’ll be dead from alcohol poisoning before long. You might want to consider what that’ll mean for you when we no longer have a lead guitarist, not to mention the guy who writes our songs.” Riley growled as he pulled me up, staggering when I leaned heavily on him. “I’ve already had to cancel our gig for this weekend. It won’t look good if we have to do it again.”

  “You don’t need to c-c-cancel the gig,” I sputtered. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Really?” Riley asked, not amused. “Sing something for me.”

  My mind was like sludge. I couldn’t think of one song.

  “Exactly what I thought. Stix!” Riley shouted and I winced.

  Stix came to my other side, supporting me as we made our way toward the bathroom. “I wasn’t saying I didn’t care about him, Riley. All I meant was everyone grieves differently. If Caleb needs to be drunk to do his grieving, then we should let him do it.”

  “I’m f-f-fine,” I protested. “N-n-not drunk.”

  They both snorted. />
  “There’ll be hell to pay if Anna shows up and sees you like this. You know she doesn’t like it when you get wasted,” Stix said.

  Anna. Just hearing her name was sobering. I hadn’t seen her since the funeral—hadn’t even bothered to check on her. I’d been so lost in my own world of agony, I forgot she was suffering too. I’d failed Jessi; and now I was failing Anna. I sucked. Everything about me sucked. I made the world suck.

  Riley and Stix shoved me fully clothed under a stream of hot water, sitting me down on the built in tile bench.

  “Here. Wash.” Riley ordered, shoving a bar of soap into my hand. “Don’t come out until you’re clean or sober . . . or both.”

  Barely registering the sound of the door closing behind them, I leaned my head against the wall and let a choked sob escape me.

  Jessi. Even the sound of her name in my head hurt me. Her image swam before my eyes—long, white blonde hair, dyed black underneath, innocent bright blue eyes surrounded by way too much black eyeliner, perfect figure honed from years as a cheerleader. Too many guys stared at her, followed her with longing expressions. I knew what they wanted; and I wanted to smash in their faces. It wouldn’t be a problem anymore, though. Because of me, she’d killed herself. “Jessi,” I whispered, the water running down my face. “As long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  ***

  The needle of the tattoo artist buzzed loudly, biting into the flesh of my inner forearm. I welcomed the pain, watching bits of blood welling to the surface. It mixed with the ink as the black and red bleeding heart, surrounded by a faded rose, began to take shape.

  “Where’d you find this design?” Tattoo Terry, as he called himself, asked.

  “It’s something my sister drew once,” I replied. “She liked it, so she put it in a frame in her bedroom.”

  “Well, she’s a great artist. How old is she?”

  I knew he was trying to make friendly conversation, but I wasn’t ready for small talk about Jessi. The wounds were still too fresh. “Seventeen. She died last week.”

  “Oh, hey, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. So, you’re getting this in her memory then, I’m guessing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you like her name or any dates tattooed into the heart?” he asked.

  “No. It’s perfect just like it is. I’ll know what it means.”

  The bell on the door rang and I glanced up to see Anna enter the shop.

  “What’re you doing here?” I asked in surprise. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

  “We had early release today. I came to find where you’ve disappeared to. You’ve been gone for days and you haven’t replied to any of my texts. Rick told me you were here getting a tattoo. What’s the deal?” She looked upset, not that I blamed her.

  “Sorry. I turned my phone off after I came back from the funeral. I haven’t turned it on since.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her gaze scrutinizing me carefully.

  No, I thought. I’ll never be okay again. “Come see my tattoo,” I said, instead of answering her question. I didn’t want to lie to her.

  She let out a small gasp and locked gazes with me, her eyes watering. “It’s Jessi’s heart.”

  “Yeah.” Jessi’s bleeding heart—the one I caused to bleed to death. Wearing this tattoo was my penance—a constant reminder of how I’d failed her. I’d never forget, ever.

  “That’s beautiful, Caleb. It would mean so much to her.”

  Clearly, Anna had a different idea of what this represented to me. Ironically, she was one of the closest people to me; yet, she was the one I could never tell my secret to. No one could know what Jessi had told me—it would make taking her life completely in vain. Her last wish was for me to not tell a soul. I’d take that wish to my grave.

  Anna waited patiently while the tattoo artist finished. I paid and tipped him and we headed out the door together.

  “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” she asked, as we made our way down the sidewalk.

  I shook my head. “No. The bar gave me the week off, and Riley cancelled our gig for this weekend.”

  “Yeah, he texted me.” She was quiet.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, not realizing until this moment how much I’d missed the sound of her voice and her soothing presence. She seemed so sad, merely a shadow of the happy girl I knew her to be.

  She shrugged. “It’ll sound dumb.”

  “You could never sound dumb. You know you can tell me anything.” Wrapping an arm loosely around her shoulders, I hugged her to me, attempting to comfort her with the closeness I needed myself.

  Bursting into tears, she looked away from me. “I’m lonely,” she choked out. “I don’t know what to do anymore. Jessi was my best friend and now she’s gone. You’re the next closest thing to a best friend I have, and you’ve disappeared, too. I feel lost, like I’m floating along in some alternate universe or something.” She dragged the back of her hand across her eyes, smearing what little mascara she was wearing, today.

  Flicking my head, I tossed my long bangs away from my eyes as I stared past the pier across the Sound. She was right. I’d completely abandoned her and I felt like a complete ass about it.

  “Tell you what,” I replied, looking at her. “Tonight, I’m all yours. We can do whatever you want.”

  “I just want to be with you. Can we please go back to your loft?” She stared at me with a hopeful expression.

  “Sure. What do you want to do there?”

  “Let’s make dinner together,” she suggested. “Maybe after, we could watch a movie or something. I don’t care. I just wanna be out of my own head for a bit.”

  “We better go to the market, then. I haven’t shopped for groceries in a while.”

  “Okay. What shall we make?” She slipped her arm around my waist. “You can pick.”

  “Let’s make Jessi’s favorite food then.”

  Anna laughed. “Seriously? I thought you didn’t care for Mac-n-Cheese.”

  “I don’t, but it seems appropriate under the circumstances.”

  She nodded. “I agree. Mac-n-Cheese it is.”

  Chapter Three

  Caleb-

  I sat on a barstool, ripping lettuce into a bowl for a small salad to go with our meal. Anna and I were the only ones eating here tonight; Rick and Riley were having dinner on Bainbridge Island with their parents and Stix had the late shift serving at the Italian restaurant where he worked.

  My eyes never left Anna for very long, watching her as she stirred the pot of Mac-n-Cheese. She’d also boiled the chicken breasts she’d insisted on getting. I knew she was trying to give me something else to eat that I would like better than the cheesy pasta. She was always so considerate.

  Looking so natural cooking in my house, it seemed as if she should live here too. She and Jessi had spent most of their free time here, something that both pleased and annoyed me. I knew Anna was part of the band and wanted to be included in everything we did, but we’d had some rowdy parties on occasion. I always suggested they go chill in my room together. It drove me insane to see the way other guys would ogle them, like I wasn’t sitting right there, watching. Panic and I had become close friends once I realized it was my responsibility to keep these girls safe. They were way too young to be hanging with that crowd, but I couldn’t deny them the right to be there either. Jessi was escaping her home life as much as possible, the same as me, and Anna belonged here as part of our group. It made sense, but it was difficult nevertheless.

  Remembering back to the day Jessi convinced me to let Anna audition for the lead singer of Fringe, I smiled slightly. We’d started out with another guy who’d suddenly moved away with his girlfriend, leaving us in a lurch. We performed regularly for different events, getting paid for them too; so we needed to find a replacement fast. Unable to fill the spot with someone we all could agree on, we let Anna audition. I did it mostly to humor Jessi, so she’d leave me alone. There was no way w
e were going to allow some high school chick into the band—even if she was Jessi’s best friend and a girl I’d known almost all my life.

  Then Anna opened her mouth and blew us all away. From high soprano to low alto, her range was incredible; but it was the emotion in her crystal clear voice that sold us all. She made the music real in a way that stabbed our listeners right in the heart. Anyone who heard her walked away carrying pieces of her in their soul. It was unanimous—she was in.

  Adjusting songs, as needed, to fit her range, we began playing again, and drawing even bigger crowds. This year, we’d landed a permanent gig at Subculture, a local bar that fit with our techno grungy emotional sound. There was only one problem—Anna was only eighteen.

  Stix managed to get a fake ID made and we gave it to Billy, the owner of the club. I knew he didn’t believe for a minute that Anna was twenty-one, but the ID was good enough to cover his butt legally; so he looked the other way. He wanted her in there too—she was packing the house every night we played. Of course, this meant I had to work even harder to keep guys away from her, but it was worth it. She was amazing.

  Staring at her now, I realized she’d become such a huge part of my life. I couldn’t imagine her not being around.

  “What are your plans after you graduate?” I asked, suddenly fearing that we might lose her—that I might lose her.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me, before turning back to stir the pot. “I thought I might register for a few classes at UW. I want to stay close by so I can still sing with you.”

  Relief flooded through me. “That sounds awesome. What are you going to major in?”

  She chuckled. “Music. You should know that.”

  I shrugged. “I figured as much; but I didn’t know if you harbored some secret passion I didn’t know about.”

  “If you don’t know it, then it’s not worth knowing,” she replied; which, for some reason, made me feel strangely pleased. “I tell you pretty much everything. How are things going with Jen?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “We broke up,” I responded flatly, remembering the insane argument we’d had the night before Jessi died.