All That Time Allows
an excerpt

Chapter 1

I still remember how we just flipped over the road and into the ditch; we weren’t going any faster than usual, but we still managed to fly over the side of the off ramp. One moment, we were sitting in the car with Meredith driving, talking about whether we thought the school would find out were had ditched third period, and the next, Mere just started to scream. Rachel instinctively screamed as well and then the car veered out of control. As we were whirling about, a thousand thoughts came into my mind as I simultaneously tried to protect myself with my hands. We landed on the grassy edge with a deafening bang and then began to roll down. Meredith’s screaming stopped.

The whole incident was probably twenty seconds or so, but it seemed as though hours had gone by when I opened my eyes.

“Rachel? Meredith?” I called frantically. A cough came from the front, but I didn’t know who it was from. I tried to take in my surroundings while untangling myself. My right foot was wedged between Meredith’s seat and the middle section of the car. I pulled it out, which sent a very sharp pain searing through my leg.

“Chelsea, can you move?” Rachel asked from the passenger seat, her voice barely audible. I noticed that all the windows had shattered and that there was a clear path away from the car. I slowly unbuckled my seatbelt and heaved my body away from the seat.

“I’m going to go and find help. Rach, is Mere okay?” I asked, rubbing away some dirt from my arm. She coughed again and looked to her left. Even without looking at Mere, I knew that she was gone. Rachel took her hand and placed two fingers on Meredith’s neck, checking for a pulse. With a soft cry, she shook her head. I sniffled and wiped a tear away from my cheek, “Stay here, I’ll go find someone.”

Detangling myself from the car was not as much of a hassle for me as finding help was. I stood, exhausted, at the side of the road and shouted for assistance. The sun was blinding me and the sound that I could hear was Meredith and Rachel’s screams. Finally, a car came and the man had called for an ambulance on his cell phone. After a few moments of waiting, I felt consciousness leave me and the next thing I knew I was being transported to a hospital in a helicopter.

Meredith was pronounced dead at the scene. Rachel and I were taken to the hospital where we received news on what our injuries were. Rachel had a broken collarbone, leg, and finger, as well as a sprained wrist. I was told I had only a broken leg, a sprained ankle, and a few bumps and bruises. Even though we had survived the accident, it was not over.

I didn’t speak to Rachel at all since the actual day, fearing that it would just bring back horrible memories. It was not as if she made an effort to communicate either though, seeing as we weren’t exactly in the best position.

Meredith was dead; she was not coming back. Ever. And the fact that we had survived just made everything so much worse. My family was a bit shaken and sullen from everything that had happened. There was so much consideration and worry behind every word that said to me, as if they were afraid that I’d unexpectedly flip out if they said something about the disaster. Abigail tried to be supportive about it, just like a twin sister should be. She told me jokes and inspirational quotes, all in the hope that something she did would make everything better. And I couldn’t blame her. I was traumatized. I was different.

A few weeks passed with no improvement, except that my physical bruises were mending and I was becoming stronger. I was able to walk around the house without anyone telling me I needed rest. The first day I was allowed downstairs without supervision, I happened to catch a glimpse at the family portrait hanging just where you would happen to look while descending the stairs. The picture had been taken last summer, when we moved into our new house. Dad had taken the picture while the rest of us crowded around each other in order to fit into the shot. Mom had her arms surrounding all of us, bringing us together like always. Sophia was standing on her left, with A.J in front of her. She had her freshly manicured hand on his shoulder, while the eight year old just stood there, grinning with a nearly toothless smile. As always, the twins were together—Abby and I stood there smiling identical smiles.

So much had changed since then. Sophia had gone away to college and found Jonathon. The two were to be married next autumn. My mom and dad divorced. Dad left to live in California, taking little toothless A.J with him. The two only visited on Christmas and I barely talked to either of them. I suppose the only obvious thing that changed about Abigail and I was our appearance. Unlike our fifteen year old selves, we sought out diversity. Abby cut her hair to shoulder length and dyed it dark brown, whereas I kept my natural red locks. Everyone had changed, just not in the most obvious ways.

I walked down the final few steps, limping slightly, and saw that Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, her usual cup of coffee in her hand as she browsed that morning’s paper. Her eyes flew back and forth, every now and then resting on a picture. I cleared my throat to let her know that I was there. Her head shot up like a balloon when she heard me, but she was not mad, in fact, her eyes lit up when she saw me up and about.

“Honey! Oh, look at you!” She mused. I smiled sweetly, trying to think of something else to do. “Why don’t you go rest on the couch and I’ll get your something to drink?”

“No thanks, I can manage,” I told her while limping into the kitchen. She looked down at the paper, almost disappointed. I walked to the fridge and took out some orange juice.

“Why do not you call Jason? I’m sure he’d love to see you!” My mom was always trying to make everything better. During my third grade fieldtrip, Isaac Gin fell into the duck pond while throwing some bread into the water. My mom dove into the water and pulled him out, completely drenching her new trousers. When Isaac apologized for ruining her new pants, she simply reassured him that it was for the best seeing as they hadn’t been the most flattering pants she’d ever worn.

“Jason and I haven’t spoken since the day before…” I trailed off. I hadn’t been able to talk about Meredith or the accident yet. It just seemed that if I talked about it, then everything would be final, and I was not ready for that.

“Well, even better! You two can catch up,” She suggested. It was obvious that she really wanted me to get back to my normal, pre-accident self and wasn’t going to stop until I complied. I gave her a small, fake smile and limped my way over to the telephone on the back wall. I picked it up and dialed Jason Whit’s number. The phone rang for a few seconds, and then a small voice answered, “Hello?”

“Hi, is Jason there?” I asked. The voice hesitated for a moment.

“Jason senior or Jason junior?” It asked in a vaguely polite sort of way. I knew that it was Haley, Jason’s five year old sister. I smiled at her lack of r’s and replied with junior.

Jason Whit and I had been friends since eighth grade when he told me that my backpack was open. It actually sounded like he was trying to flirt with me at the time, so I gave him a smile and thanked him, which only made him confused.

“You’re welcome,” He had replied, plainly. I had giggled like a loser and zipped my bag up. “Are you in special Ed?” Ouch.

“No!” I had yelled, which incited a grimace from him. I’m not sure how it happened after that, but we eventually just started to hang out. When high school came, I suppose we drifted a bit away from each other, but we’d always been there for each other—except for now, after the accident.

The phone was handed from person to person and I could hear several different voices in the background. Then I heard a soft bang and a voice ask who was on the phone. It’d been a long time since I’d heard that voice. Eventually Jason answered.

“Jay, it’s me.” I said softly. I could hear him breathing on the other end.

“Four minutes,” He told me. I said bye to him and then clicked off the phone. I grabbed my crutch from behind my mom and a jacket.

“Going to meet Jay?” My mom asked. I nodded and pulled my jacket over my shoulders. I must have looked odd, walking with a crutch in pink pajama bottoms and a navy blue jacket down my street. I made it to the park with I would guess a minute to spare and sat down on my favorite swing. In freshman year, Jay and I had made it a tradition to come down to the park whenever we had something to talk about. Eventually, we didn’t even need words to tell each other when to be there. The summer after, I had fallen off a swing, stupidly, and gotten so bloodied up that I started to cry. It’s been my favorite swing since.

“Long time, no see,” Jay said as he sat on the baby swing on my left. He pushed off the sand and tried to get going. I nodded solemnly and pushed off the sand as well. We just sat on the swings for a while, not really saying anything except the occasional awkward question.

“So how’s Abby?” He asked. I smiled softly.

“She’s doing better than she was a few days ago. The...um…thing has been hard on everyone,” I told him. He nodded and then turned towards me.

“I’m really sorry about Mere-“ He began, but I interrupted him.

“Don’t, I’m not ready for that yet.”

And we remained in silence once more. The sun started to set and I realized how late it was. With all my stress and recovery lately, my sleeping habits were getting a bit out of control—going to bed at four in the morning and waking up at one in the afternoon.

“How’s Sophia?” And we continued, asking about others and not each other. The subject changed every now and then as we repeated old inside jokes that didn’t seem that funny anymore and Jay told me of his sister’s pranks. Eventually we resigned to call it a day, but he was determined to help me out and walk me to my door, which in hindsight was unnecessary.

We stopped in front of my door and just stood there, like a two kids who just ended their first date and were debating over a kiss or not. I leaned on my good leg and gave him a big hug, which he returned. “I’ve missed you Jay.”

“I’ve missed you too, Chels,” He ruffled my hair and then turned to leave. I watched him go, thinking about how lucky I was to have a best friend who cared so much. If only the other ones that I thought to be mine would be as concerned.

I woke up the first morning I had to go back and groaned. It was a horrible feeling to realize how much your life had changed. It was indeed horrible to wish that your situation and relationships could go back to how they used to be.

I got dressed in boot cut jeans and a baggy tee shirt, feeling no need to get all dolled up. I threw my hair back behind my ears after brushing it and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth. Eventually, I had to go, but I was going to do as many tedious tasks beforehand as I possibly could. After catching me cleaning my sneakers with a toothbrush I had found, my mom ordered me out of the house.

I didn’t have any self pity whatsoever—it was Abby I was truly worried about. She was so kind and helpful with me, but when we arrived at school and the questions started to be asked, she got nasty. I didn’t listen to most of the people talking to me, considering most of them were unfamiliar. I was looking for Rachel. I hadn’t seen or talked to her since the accident and I was eager to just give her a hug. It was a hope at healing to me. If Rachel and I could rekindle our friendship and put this whole incident behind us, I would receive closure.

But, alas, Rachel Bernard was nowhere to be found.

“Chelsea Anne Rose, you realize that you went a whole period without saying hello to me?” Cassie whispered as Mr. Capwell continued his seemingly pointless lecture about the Trojan War. Cassie looked at me expectantly, waiting for the exclusive I guessed. Cassie Thuspon was what most would call a gossip queen—she had to know everything first, and when she didn’t, she made it up.

“Sorry,” I muttered under my breath, scribbling a few notes down on my paper.

“So, have you talked to Rachel yet? How’s she doing?” Cassie popped her bubblegum, totally unaware that Mr. C was giving her a glare and writing a classroom removal slip. I smirked when she took it and left, mumbling about how it was her duty to report on the latest news and how removing her from class was unconstitutional.

“Back to what I was saying,” Mr. C continued. I looked around, not listening to a single word the teacher was saying. It was odd how I could just tune everything out and go into my own little world. A world where my ankle was fine and I didn’t need to walk on a crutch. A world where Rachel and I were still speaking. A world where Meredith was still alive.

I thought back to last spring, when Meredith’s older sister, Liz, was graduating from Badgley. She had invited us to her after party. I was most definitely not a party person, but something about the thrill of sneaking out after my parents had gone to bed and meeting Rach at the corner seemed so exciting and in the now, I just couldn’t resist. It wasn’t until I had actually gotten to the aforementioned party that my doubts and fears kicked in. The smell going around was disgusting and everywhere I looked there were at least twenty beer bottles and cans.

“Rachel, can you drive me home?” I had whined to her, but she was too drunk to understand the simplest words. Her strawberry blonde hair had fallen out of its bun, just enough so that she had tiny little tendrils framing her face.

“Chelsea, Belsea, relax! Just…er…chill!” She exclaimed while reaching for a beer. I looked at her disgusted and took her keys from the plastic fold out table while she wasn’t paying attention. After all, a good friend doesn’t let another friend drink and drive. Dodging all the drunks and druggies, I made it outside. The air had felt crisp and bitter, like it was angry at the world. I had found the car and gotten in. I remember looking back and debating over whether or not to go back, after all Rachel had no means of transportation. But a part of me just couldn’t move. It had been so existential, in only a few seconds, like I’d been deciding my fate—go back and become a partier, or leave and become the prude. Needless to say, the latter was less appealing, but I ended up choosing it anyway.

Rachel wouldn’t talk to me for three weeks after that, letting other tell me that she had been embarrassed and wronged, but the reasons why were never specified. That’s how it always was with her. I suppose we had tested our friendship on more than one occasion, and it always ended with me apologizing. But I wasn’t going to let it happen again. I decided right then and there, after we had reconciled that I wouldn’t apologize first in our next fight—foolish and juvenile, but I was only 14.

“Honey!” My mother welcomed me back inside after returning from the park. She exclaimed every now and then how excited she was to see me going here and there and how she was so happy I was still with them. At that point in time though, I don’t think I was exactly happy to be around. To be with these people. There was always a part of me that wished I had died, just to see what there was after death. Was there a heaven? A hell? Or was there just a big black space, and that’s your home for the next billion years or so? “I found the most terrific opportunity!”

Opportunities, to my mother, were ways to get her children out of the house so she could watch her soap operas until four o’clock. Usually they were dance classes or just little groups, nothing totally life changing.

“I can’t wait to hear about it, Mum, but I’m really tired. I think I am going to head in early,” I told her while giving a fake yawn, which conceived a real yawn two seconds later. My mum’s eyes widened.

“But are you sure, dear, it’s only five thirty?” She looked a bit put out by the idea, like it would mean that she had failed at something. I nodded in response, not feeling up to the idea of explaining myself. “Well, since the opportunity would start tomorrow at ten, I’ll tell you now!”

I yawned again, another fake one, and waited for her to continue, which she did in lightning speed.

“Okay, well I was talking to Marge down by the old Chinese food place, and she told me of this one counselor, Meghan Garcia. She apparently works with those who have lost ones whom they love—specifically teens. Anyway, she told me that Meghan is starting a group for teens above fifteen, and I thought that you might be interested?” My mother never ceased to amaze me. As usual when the pitch for the opportunity was presented, I would think about it sincerely, kind of decline as politely as possible, but in the long run end up doing whatever she had asked. It was no different this time. Before I knew exactly what I had signed up for, I was heading upstairs for a long sleep.

As I lay in bed that night, I looked solemnly up at my ceiling, trying to count all the little dots, but failing every time to catch the exact number. Thoughts ran through my mind—what would Meghan be like? Would I know anyone there? Would I be ridiculed if I say something personal? Is Rachel going to be there? I doubted it, considering Rachel’s mother was not one to publicize the family’s faults.

As I pondered all those questions, I fell asleep. In the morning, I awoke to find that Lobster, my cat, had jumped up onto my bed and slept on my pillow, just above my head. What a little goof ball. I looked at the clock and saw that it was 9:45. Great, just in time to do absolutely nothing with my appearance and get to group! (Note sarcastic tone). My mum called from down the stairs and informed me of my known lateness. I scrambled out of bed and quickly brushed my teeth while applying some face wash with my other hand. Rinsing that off and spitting out the excess toothpaste-contaminated spit, I flew out of the bathroom and hopped into a pair of black jeans along with a dark red hoodie sweatshirt. Oh the joys of fashion…not.