(The next day)

“Pizza!” Justin threw open the box top, and stuck his face in it. “Christ…pepperoni! This is the best weekend of my life! Karen, I love you!”

Karen laughed at him. “It’s only this once…don’t get used to it. I figured you deserved a treat after you got up on that horse yesterday. Eat up,” she smiled, giving him a pat on the back.

“It’s all for me?”

“Yes,” she giggled. “It’s all for you.”

Justin smiled like he was five years old again. He breathed in the scent, and drooled hungrily.

“You gonna eat it or are you gonna smell it?”

He tore his gaze from the food. Sheridan was there. She looked nice. She was dressed up, and her make up and hair were done in a way he had never seen before. She looked like…one of those girls that would come onto him in a club…or at a party. One of those girls who he would play mind games with all night long, and only leave behind at then end of the night because he had found somebody else.

But that was before. This was his life now, this was Sheridan standing before him…

And she was amazing.

“Eat it,” he said, tearing a slice out of the pie. He looked her up and down. “What’s the occasion?,” he smiled.

“Marcy is leaving tomorrow, so we’re going out,” she told him. “Can I have a piece?”

He looked back at his pizza. “One piece,” he decided. “Because you are my friend.”

“Aww,” she cooed, taking a piece for herself. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re eating now!” Marcy burst into the room. Her outfit was wild…splashed with glittering sequins and bright neon colors. “Sheridan, you can’t eat now! If you eat…I’m gonna want to eat and then my breath will smell rank for the club!”

Justin’s playful expression faded. The club. They were going to the club. Suddenly, the smell of the pizza was making him nauseated. “What club?”

“It’s in West Hollywood,” Marcy smiled, her eyes full of excitement. “It’s called Silver. I read about it in People Magazine.

Justin had been to Silver many times before. It was Trace’s favorite club. He remembered, every time they would go, the bartender would always have bottles upon bottles of Jack Daniels lined up, just waiting for them. Trace called it the “shot bar”, just because all they would do there was drink shots, and get wasted. Now that he thought about it…that was pretty much all anybody did there. “I’ve been there,” he blurted out. “It’s not so great. Hey…I know, why don’t you guys just stay here and hang out instead? We could watch a movie or play Scrabble.”

Marcy laughed out loud. “Scrabble?”

Sheridan shot Marcy a dirty look.

Marcy stopped laughing. “Sorry,“ she mumbled.

“What’s the matter, Justin?” Sheridan asked him.

He looked away from her. The past couple of days had been stressful enough. He had already flipped out over a bottle of cologne, and admitted to Sheridan that he was both seeing and talking to his dead friend on a regular basis. He wasn’t about to shell out the rest of the story right now. This was her night…with her friend. He used to have nights like this too…with his friend. He remembered how much fun he used to have. He was so carefree then…so blind to the realities of the world.

But then that night came. That fateful night that had taken Trace’s life, and so much more. He was scared. What if Sheridan drank too much? What if she looked away from the road…even for a split second? That was all it took, to get yourself injured beyond repair. But he couldn’t tell her any of that. It wouldn’t be right to spoil her fun. “It’s nothing…I’m fine.”

“Justin,” Karen spoke up. “Are you sure?”

Justin sighed. Now Karen was curious too. “I’m fine,” he repeated. He pushed himself away from the table. “I think I just need some air.”

“But the pizza!” Marcy called out.

He looked over his shoulder. “You eat it.” He rolled away. Then he felt it. That tugging on his handlebars. He was certain it was Sheridan, and didn’t bother to look behind him. “I said I’m fine Sheridan.”

“Justin…I know you, and I know you‘re not fine” Sheridan said. “I know you’re still upset about yesterday…and I know that my going out tonight, is bothering you.”

“It’s not bothering me,” he muttered.

“Then why are you running away from me?”

“Just be careful tonight.”

“I’m not going,” she said after a moment. “I’ll stay with you, Justin.”

He looked up at her. Her expression was full of regret. He knew she wanted to go. Hell, of course she did. Aside from the day they snuck out to Hollywood together…Sheridan really hadn’t been off of the grounds at all. And if she didn’t go out tonight, he knew she wouldn’t be going out anytime in the near future. “No, Sher,” he said. “I’m not going to spoil your fun.”

“I can have fun with you,” she said, managing a smile. “I’m at school with Marcy all year long…I think I can skip out on tonight.”

“You don’t mean that,” he smiled, shaking his head. “I know you don’t.”

“It’s just a club,” Sheridan rolled her eyes. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Yeah, it’s just a club,“ he laughed. “Don’t give me that, Sheridan. They have a waiting list at that club…and I bet that you’ve been on it for about oh…six, seven months now. Tell me if I’m wrong.“

She wouldn’t look at him. “M-Marcy put our names in at the beginning of the year. I didn’t think we would actually get in.”

“Well ya did,” he said. “And you should go. It’s a really cool place. I mean, I guess when you’re in my situation you take that kind of thing for granted. But for people like you…who never get to go to those places…it’s a great experience. Shit, they have these revolving tables you can sit at and stuff. You need to go.“

She smiled. “You’re sure?”

No I take it back. Stay with me…don’t go out…don’t drink…don’t party. Don’t get yourself killed. “I’m sure,” he managed.

She pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you…so much Justin.”

He felt himself blush. “Anytime.”

“I’ll bring you something back. Like…I dunno…a coaster or something.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled, beginning to roll down the hallway. “That’ll be the shiz.”

“Bye,” he heard her say.

He turned back around. “Sheridan,” he called out to her.

She stopped in her tracks, and turned back to him. “Yeah?”

“Will you just…be home at like eleven?” he asked her. He felt stupid for asking her to be home at a certain time, but he simply couldn’t help himself. Having a time to go by, made him feel more secure inside. If she had a time limit…maybe she wouldn’t be so inspired to drink.

“Eleven?” she said.

He nodded. “I…I just…”

She held up her hand. “I know,” she interrupted him. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “Have fun.”

“I will,” she smiled. “Bye Justin.”

“Bye.” He watched her retreat down the hallway. Part of him was happy that she was going to go out, and have fine like a girl her age should. But the other part…the forever torn part of his soul was screaming at him…begging for him to chase her down and make her reconsider. She could die… It said. Then you really won’t have anything.

He put his hands on the wheels of his chair, and rolled forward a bit. “No,” he said out loud. “Don’t you bring your drama into her fun.”

“She ditched you huh?” Trace emerged from a random doorway.

“She’s goin’ out,” he informed him.

“Nah,” he chuckled, crossing his arms. “She ditched you.”

“Alright…so she did,” he sighed. “But I’m not going to let it bring me down…and you’re gonna behave yourself about it.” He rolled past him, and smiled a little. It was a step up from yesterday.

“Wanna play?”

He glanced back at Trace. He had a deck of cards, and was toying with it in his hands. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“C’mon,” he persisted. “It’ll be fun.”

“I can’t…” he began. “I…I can’t play with you.”

“Sure you can,” he said, stepping toward him. He held out the deck of cards to him. “Five card stud. Aces and Jokers are wild. You shuffle.”

It was so real. So amazingly real, that he couldn’t help himself. He reached out…

He took the cards. He gasped. They were so cold, but they were real. He didn‘t know what to think. “What the--”

“Let’s go in there,” Trace interrupted, pointing to the room he had walked out of moments before. “There’s a little table.” He walked back into the room.

Justin trembled a little. For the first time, the possibility that Trace was haunting him, scared him. But then he thought about it, and ended up laughing at himself. Why was he scared? This was Trace…his best friend…his brother. It wasn’t like he was some evil entity that was out to get him. Justin felt stupid for taking Trace’s presence for granted all this time. He knew now, that he could talk to him…laugh with him…just like before. He thought that maybe…if he let himself believe in Trace’s spirit, that he would have an easier time getting over his death. Suddenly, what Trace was or wasn’t didn’t seem to matter anymore. Trace was simply there, and for the moment…it was good enough for Justin.

He smiled, and dropped the cards onto his lap. “Wait up Trace.” He wheeled himself into the room, expecting Trace to be sitting at the table, his feet resting on top of it.

But he was gone.

And so were the cards.

*****************

“Omigod.”

Sheridan was thankful that Justin insisted she go out tonight. This club was fantastic. The tables really did revolve, and the walls had silver beams of light running through them. It was a chic place…full of beautiful people, and great music. She could definitely see Justin out on the dance floor…five women clawing at him for attention. He would have fit right in. She glanced at her watch. It was ten thirty. Justin asked her to be home at eleven. She rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to leave yet…she wanted to stay, have fun.

She could take an extra half hour. She wouldn’t be that late…she would be home at twelve. Justin would understand. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how easy it was to lose track of time at a place like this. This had been his lifestyle, until recently.

“Omigod,” Marcy repeated.

“What?” Sheridan chuckled, looking over at her. Her eyes were wide, and Sheridan knew that it could only mean one thing. “Who is it?”

“I think…I think that’s Lance Bass,” she whispered, pointing out to a spot on the dance floor. “Omigod…”

“You said that,” Sheridan smiled. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself?”

Marcy looked at her like she was crazy. “Yeah right!”

“Why not?” Sheridan shrugged. “Go tell him you’re a friend of Justin’s.”

“Sheridan,” Marcy gasped. “I couldn’t.”

“It’s the truth,” she nodded, giving her friend a little shove. “Go on.”

“No!”

“Oh god…fine,” Sheridan said, getting up from the comfortable planet chair she had been sitting in. “I’ll go.”

“You can’t!” she screamed. “You can’t just…walk up to Lance freakin’ Bass!”

Sheridan winked at her. “Watch and learn.”

“Omigod…”

Sheridan couldn’t help but laugh, as she made her way toward the dance floor. She thought that Marcy’s experiences with Justin would have made her immune to being star struck at the sight of people like him by now. She was wrong though…Marcy would always be this way. It was just how she was. She thought she could see the man that Marcy had pointed out, a moment later. But she wasn’t certain. After all…she wasn’t really sure what this Lance guy looked like, aside from the pictures that Marcy had of him. She pushed her way forward…

Then she felt a hand grab onto her upper arm. “Hey,” a deep southern voice said.

She whirled around. Some guy was standing before her, a smug, proud smile on his face. Sheridan was disgusted, and immediately pulled away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

“A fiesty one eh?” he snickered. “The name is Juan,” he stuck out his hand. “Let’s dance.”

She didn’t return his handshake. She gave him the once over. He was short, fair skinned, had a lot of tattoos on his arms, and was badly in need of a shave and a haircut. The backwards baseball cap he had pulled over his long mess of hair, was a turn off in her opinion. It made him look scruffier than he already was. And to top things off he smelled like that damn cologne she had bought for Justin…that Abercrombie stuff. She didn’t want to remember the fit Justin had thrown yesterday over the gift…but Juan had practically drenched himself in the cologne…there was no way around it.

Sheridan cringed at the memory. “Get lost.” She rolled her eyes.

“Aw, come on now,” he drawled. “Where’s your sense of hospitality? Can‘t a guy ask a girl to dance anymore?”

She laughed at him. “Not this girl, hick boy.”

“I…” he began, pointing at himself proudly. “Am not a hick. I…am genuine Tennessee trash.” He lifted up his sleeve and pointed at one of his many tattoos.

Sheridan leaned forward and studied his arm more closely. Inscribed there in a classy script, were the words Tennessee River Trash. She wanted to walk away from him just then, but found that she couldn’t. Something was making her stay. But she’d be damned if she could figure out what it was. “Is that supposed to impress me, hick boy?,” she asked him, smiling a little bit.

Juan shrugged, and smiled mischievously. “It’s always worked in the past.” He held out his hand to her. “Come on, one song…then I’ll stop bothering you, okay?”

“I…I have a boyfriend,” she said pathetically. One look into his eyes told her that he wasn’t buying it though. She frowned. He wasn’t a stupid guy. She could already tell.

“Well…maybe you do. But if that‘s the case he couldn‘t be that special if he‘s not with you right now,” he smiled. He didn’t hesitate to grab her hand this time. “Come on girl, stop bein’ shy and dance with me.”

Sheridan didn’t pull away from him this time. Soon, she found herself out on the dance floor, in the middle of the massive crowd of partiers.

“There’s not a whole lotta room,” Juan yelled over the music. “C’mere.” He pulled her close to him, and smiled. “That’s better.”

Sheridan caught herself in a wide smile, and quickly let it fade. She was surprised at herself for letting him con her into dancing with him. He was far from the type of guy she found attractive. Juan’s cocky attitude, and scruffy appearance normally would have caused her to run and hide. But something…that thing she hadn’t been able to figure out about him moments before, was still nagging at her. Something, she realized, was different about this young man. She decided Juan was cute. Not a Justin of course…but he was still cute. He had that boyish aura about him…one of those faces and personalities that you could fall in love with if given the chance.

A new song began to play. It wasn’t slow…but it wasn’t fast either. It was a mellow song…practically a ballad in a high paced club like this. The dance floor cleared a little, and Sheridan was thankful. She pulled back from Juan slightly. It wasn’t so stuffy now, and she began to relax.

“You never told me your name,” he said to her.

“It’s Sheridan.“ She felt his hands relocate themselves around her waist. She knew where they were headed, and she didn’t know if she liked it or not. “Is Juan your real name?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “My father is Mexican-American…his name is Juan too. Is Sheridan your real name?” he chuckled.

She blushed. “Yes.”

He flashed her a playful smile. “Your father’s name right?”

She threw her head back and laughed out loud, barely acknowledging that his hands had traveled downwards, and were now resting on her rear. Well…she did notice…but she didn’t care. “No!”

“My mistake,” he winked. “So Sheridan, you live around here?”

“Yeah…” She looked back at the table she and Marcy had been occupying. But, Marcy wasn’t there anymore. Her eyes scanned the club quickly, before spotting her at the bar…talking to some random guy. She had to smile. At least Marcy hadn’t been left behind while she danced with Juan the Hick Boy. “My mom and I live about an hour from here…but I’m actually home for summer break at the moment. I live in New York most of the year.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “I see…so you go to school then?”

“I do.”

“Whereabouts?”

“NYU,” she told him.

His eyes widened a little. “NYU…wow…that’s supposed to be a really good school.”

“It is,” she gloated. Getting into such a prestigious school was one of the only things in her life Sheridan felt proud of, and when people made a big deal about it…like Juan was…she couldn’t help but get a big head about it. “I’m majoring in medicine. My mom is a doctor, so it kind of runs in the family.”

“I have to commend you,” he told her. “I didn’t even graduate high school.”

“You dropped out?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” he said, sighing a little. “My buddy needed my help with a few things, so I kinda put school on hold.”

Sheridan was confused “You put your future on hold for a friend?”

He looked at her. His eyes were intense, as if he were completely surprised that she had dared to question him about it. “He‘s my best friend.”

“Nobody is worth throwing away your education for,” Sheridan giggled. “Not even somebody that close to you.”

Juan shrugged. “If you understood the situation, you would understand why I did it.”

Sheridan was confused as to why he was being so serious about all of this. It seemed to mean a great deal to him…that he had done what he did. She didn’t want to spoil the night, or upset this guy she had only just met, so she decided to just leave the subject alone. “Listen…let’s just, change the subject. I don’t know you well enough to question you about all of this anyway.”

He nodded, his playful smile reappearing automatically. “Sure. It’s cool.”

A new song started to play. It was upbeat this time. Sheridan smiled. This time she wasn’t hesitant to dance with him. “C’mon Juan,” she giggled. “Thrill me.”

He smiled, and pulled her close to him again. “You’re a down girl. Can I call you sometime?”

She almost said yes. But then…she thought about Justin, sitting at home, trying to amuse himself. He liked her…he was waiting around for her. And Sheridan knew she had feelings for him. But Juan…he was one of the only guys she had ever come across that was different than the pasty, dull guys she dated back in New York. She was curious about him now…she wanted to get to know him a little more. But Justin…she was sure he meant more to her right now than Juan ever could. “Call me?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “You know…on the telephone.”

“I…” she began. “Look, I would say yes…but I’m just caught up in some things right now.” She searched his eyes for a response. He didn’t seem disappointed, and she was thankful.

“Hell, I know that feelin’,” he nodded. “Look…how about I just give you my number, and you call me when you get your business taken care of. I live in LA, but I go out of town a lot…so I’ll just give you my cell phone number. Maybe you can even call me when you go back to school, if everything’s cool with you by then. I get out to New York a lot, so we could hit up the clubs out there some night. It doesn‘t have to be all romantic and shit though. We could just chill ya know?”

Sheridan smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good,“ he smiled. He gave her butt a firm squeeze, and she didn’t protest. “Now lets cut the crap and really dance.”

They danced through at least a dozen songs. Some fast, some mellow…it didn’t matter. Sheridan was having fun, listening to him crack jokes…feeling his hands on her body. She felt alive…for the first time in a long time. Juan was so fun…so carefree. He reminded her of Justin, only he was at a higher level. Then it hit her…

That was why she liked him so much. This guy was acting exactly like Justin would have, if he were normal…if he weren’t confined to that wheelchair.

Justin was the one she really wanted. Justin…

Justin was waiting for her right now. She had promised him she would be home…she was beyond being late. She gasped, and looked at Juan. He was smiling. He seemed to know something was on her mind…and he seemed to be enjoying it too. It was scaring her.

“It’s getting late, don’t you think?” Juan whispered in her ear.

“What time is it?”

Juan’s smile didn’t fade as he glanced at the cell phone clipped to his jeans. “It’s almost one thirty. “

“Oh shit!” she whimpered, pulling away from him.

“Here.” Juan dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Just take my number before you lose your mind, okay?”

“I…I have to get home,” she said, taking the paper from him.

“I know,” he nodded, seeming to know exactly what her problem was.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Sheridan turned around. Marcy was standing there. “We gotta go,” she told her.

Marcy didn‘t hear her. “Omigod…so it wasn’t Lance after all. But I met the guy and he was so hot and we so made out in the corner!,” she squealed. “Sheridan…this has been the best night!”

“We really have to go,” Sheridan persisted. “I told Justin we would be home at eleven.”

“Oh come on,” Marcy rolled her eyes. “He’ll be okay.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “I know him Marcy. He’s probably worried.”

“Fine, fine.” Marcy huffed. “Lets go then.”

“Let me just say bye,” Sheridan told her.

Marcy shot her a confused look. “Bye?”

She pointed over her shoulder. “This is Juan.”

“Umm…Sher,” Marcy said, laughing a little. “Who are you pointing at?”

“Stop being a shit,” Sheridan grumbled. “I know you must have seen me dancing with him.” She turned around to acknowledge him once more. He was gone. “Oh…I guess he must have left.”

“Sheridan,” Marcy said, coming closer to her. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“What are you talking about?” she said, scanning the crowd for Juan. “I haven’t been drinking.”

“I mean…I saw you dancing and all,” Marcy giggled, looping her arm through Sheridan’s. “But you weren’t dancing with anybody.”

“Nice try,” Sheridan smiled. “But I’m not falling for one of your practical jokes this evening. He gave me his number.” She handed the slip of paper to Marcy. “See?”

Marcy studied the slip of paper for a moment. “I guess he did,” she admitted. “Hell, maybe I’m in such a daze right now I missed him. Was he cute?”

“Yeah,” Sheridan nodded. “In a kinda weird…scruffy way.”

“Scruffy,” Marcy giggled. “Okay…now I really think you’ve been drinking. It‘s probably better if we leave. I don‘t want you to get any more alcohol in your system…you‘ll probably end up getting on a table and stripping for everyone in here.”

Sheridan didn’t laugh. The only thing on her mind at the moment, was Justin. She knew how upset he could get over simplest things going wrong. She knew by this time he was probably worried about her. He was probably thinking that something awful had happened to her. He was so fragile…Sheridan knew he was going to be a wreck by the time she and Marcy walked through the door.

And just like everything else in her life…it was entirely her fault.

****************

Justin flipped through the channels on the television frantically, searching for any news on a car accident…a club that had caught on fire…anything. Where was she? Where the hell was Sheridan? She said…no…she had promised him she would be home by eleven. But she wasn’t home, and she hadn’t called. A million twisted voices ran through his mind. They were whispering to him…telling him all different kinds of sick things. She’s dead someplace…she’s been raped and murdered…that friend of hers has gotten her into a load of trouble…

She drank too much…There’s been an accident…

“The accident took place…”

Justin flipped back one channel. “Oh Christ,” he gasped. It was an accident…a bad one. There was an overturned tractor trailer behind the news anchor. There were ambulances…squad cars…the works. He turned the volume up, listening for names of victims, or anything else that might have told him whether Sheridan was involved. “Get to the point, dammit!” he yelled, when the news anchor failed to tell him what he wanted to know.

“Are you still up, Justin?”

He jumped a little. Karen was standing in the room now. He hadn’t even heard her come in. The last he knew…she had gone to bed. “I…yes.”

Karen smiled, and walked over to the couch he was laid out on. She reverted her gaze to the television. “Why in the world are you watching this?” she chuckled, taking the remote from him. She flicked the television off. “It’s late.”

He didn’t meet her gaze. “Sheridan isn’t home yet,” he whispered.

“Oh Justin,” Karen sighed. “She’s just fine. She was probably having so much fun, she simply lost track of time. I‘m sure she‘ll be home within the hour,” she reassured him. “Come on…I’ll help you into bed.”

“No!” he yelled. “I won’t. I’m waiting for her. She…she said she’d be home by eleven. I-I can’t sleep until she’s home, and I know she’s okay.”

“Justin,” Karen said in a worried tone. “Please don‘t put yourself through this right now.” She reached out and tried to take his hand.

He didn’t let her get another word out. He swatted her hand away, and wrapped his arms around himself protectively. “No Karen!”

Karen raised her hands up in the air and backed away from him. “Okay, Justin. If you want to stay up…that’s your choice. Just please…calm down.”

He didn’t respond, and sunk lower into the sofa. A moment later, he heard Karen retreat from the living room. He let out a long sigh, and ran his hand through his hair.

“Come on.”

Justin looked around. He was sure he had heard Trace’s voice, but he was no where to be seen. Not that it was anything new to him. Trace had done this before. “Where are you?”

“I’m up here.”

Justin looked up at the ceiling. “Up where?”

“Close your eyes and I’ll show you.”

He almost did, but then thought twice about it. He wasn’t about to be fooled again…like he had been earlier with the cards. “No,” he pouted. “I’m not playing your little game right now, Trace. I got too much on my mind”

“Look,” he laughed. “I’m sorry about before okay?”

“That was a shitty thing to do to me, you know that?” Justin grumbled. “There I was…all set to kick it with you, and you just disappeared on me. What kind of a friend does that?”

“I just…I forgot about something I had to do,” Trace explained. “Just close your eyes, and I’ll make it up to you…I swear.”

“Since when do dead people have agendas?” he asked.

“Ah, see there it is,” Trace grunted. “I’m dead…and its still all about you.”

“Aw ya know…fuck this,” he said. “I don’t need the third degree from you.”

Trace appeared before him, cigarette in hand. “What good is it gonna do you to be negative right now?” He took a drag, and blew the smoke out of his nose. “I’m here…and you know, I told you I was sorry about before. Come on man, you never held a grudge against me any other time…”

He cut him off. “You weren’t dead before,” he seethed. Then he felt it…tears rolling down his face. He was crying. “Damn,” he whispered, holding back a sob. “See what you’re making me do? You‘re making me a mess all over again.”

“You’re gonna be a mess regardless if I leave you alone or not,” Trace decided. “So I’ll just hang around. Hell, I got nothing better to do. Hey,” he mused. “It’s almost like before…when I was really around. I hung around with you…because I was convinced that I couldn’t do anything better with my life.”

“Shut the hell up!” he yelled. “That’s not what it was about…you know that! You know it wasn’t just about me…it was about us…we were a team! You and me til the end,” he sobbed. “That’s what we said.”

“But it is the end Justin,” Trace said softly. “I know that, our friends know that Our families know that. Hell, ‘lisha knows that too. You’re the one who just can’t seem to let go.”

“How can I?” he cried. “Look at what happened. It’s my damn fault!”

“Why don’t you stop feeling sorry for yourself?” Trace took another drag from his cigarette. “It’s getting old, and I’m tired of hearing about it. So is everybody else.”

“Then don’t!” he screamed. “Don’t fucking hear it! I-I don’t want you around anyway. You drive me crazy…that’s all you’re fuckin’ good for.” He paused for a moment. He heart was racing…he was sweating. “That’s…that’s all you’ve ever been good for! Fuckin’ freeloading piece of shit!”

The door flew open.

“Lord! That was the best!” Marcy darted through the doorway, a huge grin on her face. “Hi Justin! We didn‘t think you‘d be up!”

“And it’s fat ass by a nose!” Trace smiled, obviously not phased by Justin’s harsh comments toward him. He took another drag from his cigarette, and threw it on the floor. He stepped on it, and it disappeared into the carpet, as if it had never been there in the first place.

“Get out!” Justin screamed at him. “Just get the hell out of here!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Trace rolled his eyes. “I’ll see ya soon.”

He vanished.

“I…I’m sorry,” Marcy whispered, the light in her eyes disappearing.

He barely heard her. “I hate you!” he screamed. “Never come back…never!”

Marcy began to sob, and quickly fled the room.

He didn’t care what she thought of him right now. He knew who he had been talking to…and it was all that mattered at the moment. He didn’t need her stupid fanatical self grinning and squealing over him right now anyway. He just wanted to forget everything…Trace…the accident…his disability. He closed his eyes, hoping it would help.

It didn’t. Trace’s face was there, smiling at him. “See?,” he smiled. “Told you I’d be back.”

“No!” he yelled. He opened his eyes. Sheridan was standing over him now. She was okay. The voices had been wrong. But at the same time he was angry with her. He was angry at her for making him worry. She knew what went on inside his head…she knew how even the simplest things could tear him apart. Why had she chosen to stay out late? Why had she neglected his request? He was only trying to protect her. “Where were you!” he yelled. “You said…you said you would come home!”

“Justin,” she said, with a shaky voice. “I’m right here okay?” she grabbed onto his hand. “We lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you know what can happen to you!” he yelled. “You can crash, and die…or end up like this!” he pointed to his legs. “What were you thinking about?”

“Justin…shh,” She sat down on the sofa and pulled his head into her chest. “Shh.”

“No,” he sobbed. He pushed her away roughly, and Sheridan fell backwards onto the floor. She stared back at him, an expression of both confusion and shock on her face. He didn’t care. He just didn’t care. He was in too much pain to care. “I don’t want you to die,” he said softly, after a moment. “Please don’t die Sheridan. Please don’t leave me like…like he did.”

“What’s happening!” Karen raced into the room. She glanced at Sheridan, and then to him. “Justin? Are you okay?”

Sheridan slowly got off of the floor. “Justin,” she said, her bottom lip quivering. “It’s okay.” She sat down on the couch again. “I’m not going to die. I‘m not going anywhere. I‘m staying here with you.”

“Please don’t die Sheridan,” he repeated. Finally, he allowed her to pull him close to her. She began to rock him back and forth, while soothingly running her hand up and down his back. “I don’t want you to be like him…I don’t want that.”

“He needs to be put to bed,” Karen spoke up after a minute.

“Just leave him, mom,” Sheridan whispered, not letting go of him. “It’s my fault. I’ll do it.”

“This is out of your hands,” Karen told her. “Get up, Sheridan.”

Justin felt her begin to pull away from him. She was leaving him. She said she wouldn’t leave him. “No!” he cried. “Don’t leave me! Don‘t!”

“I can’t do this, mom!” Sheridan exclaimed. “He’s already upset enough.”

“Well then help me get him up…”

He looked up into Sheridan’s eyes. She stared back at him. She wasn’t going to leave. He tightened his embrace around her.

“Justin.” He heard Sheridan say. “We have to go to your room now, grumpy bear.”

He smiled like a child would. “Okay Sheridan.” He hugged her lovingly. “Then after…can we have ice cream?”

“Sure,” she replied. “But first you have to get in bed.”

He barely noticed the transition from the couch to the wheelchair. He was too busy keeping his gaze focused only on Sheridan, afraid that if he looked away even for a moment, she would be gone. Just like Trace.

“Give him this,” he heard Karen say. “Then make sure he goes right to sleep.”

“Yes,” Sheridan replied, taking something in her hand. “I will.”

In a matter of moments, he was back in the confines of his room. He watched Sheridan push the door closed. They were safe now. Safe from all the dangers of the outside world.

“Are you alright?” she asked him, her voice full of worry. She crouched down in front of him, and handed him a small pill. “Jesus Justin…I’m so worried about you.”

He smiled. “What’s this? Candy? You’re sweet.”

She grasped his hand. She seemed so scared. Justin didn’t understand. “Yes,” she told him. “Karen said we were out of ice cream. So I got you this.”

“Yay!”

“But you don’t chew it,” she told him. “You just swallow it.”

He was confused. “What kinda candy is that?”

She smiled. “A special kind.”

He shrugged, and popped the thing into his mouth. He swallowed it. “That wasn’t good,” he frowned.

“No?”

He shook his head.

“Well…I’ll just have to get you something better tomorrow,” she nodded. She wheeled him over to his bed. “Come on, it’s late anyway.”

A moment later, he was in bed. He looked around for Sheridan. He finally found her, over by his bedpost, fumbling with his catheter. But she was so fuzzy…so blurred. Actually, the whole room was that way. The situation was familiar. The hospital…he had been this way in the hospital. But why did he feel like this now? “Sheridan,” he whined, reaching out for her. “What’s wrong with me? I-it‘s hard to see.”

She grabbed onto his hand. “You’re okay,” she told him. “Just relax. I’m right here with you.”

He felt her next to him. She was in the bed. He let out a sigh of relief, as he felt her hand running through his hair…down his face. “I’m sorry, Sher,” he whispered. He felt his eyes begin to droop.

“Don’t be.” He felt her lips on his forehead. “It’s not your fault.”

He smiled a little. “Sheridan,“ he managed to say. “I’m so tired.”

“Shh…it’s late. Just relax now, Justin.“ He felt her fingers slip through his. “Just relax.”

It was the last thing he heard before he drifted off to sleep.