The Last Tomorrow

There I am—on top of the world. Well, at least on top of the highest hill in my town. In my parents BMW, which they don’t know I’ve taken out of the garage because they’re sound asleep—dreaming dreams when they should really be worrying about me. I’m not allowed to drive this car. I’m not allowed to be out at three in the morning. But I am. And that’s all that really matters.

I turn on the high beams, and they barely let me see the bottom, where the road curves, just before hitting the stonewall the Gators erected last summer to enclose their pool. It’s very pretty too. A mixture of egg and graphite colored stone. The couple always did have impeccable taste.

I check the time, 3:18. I take my cell phone out of my jacket pocket and dial number two on my speed dial. I tap a finger on the steering wheel with each ring that passes.

Come on, pick up, pick up.

“Ari?”

I smile. Darren is the best thing that has ever happened to me. From best friend to boyfriend, we have always been one when together. Nothing can separate us. We’re always in sync.

“Where are you, babe? I’ve been waiting for almost half an hour.”

“What are you talking about…wait, are on the hill?!”

I don’t understand why he’s yelling at me. “Yeah. I told you, three o’ clock.”

“We can’t do that anymore,” he protested.

“What?” Some of the anger he portrayed seeping into my brain. “We’ve been planning this for weeks.”

I can hear him scuffling around his bedroom; probably looking for his car keys.

“How can you act like nothing’s changed?”

“Darren! You promised me that tonight would be the night.”

He can’t back out now. I’ve been waiting for this moment long before we started going out. I have been patient for too long.

“Well, I didn’t know you were pregnant when I promised.”

I ignore him, “You said you were ready.”

“You’re carrying my baby.”

I sigh, “I shouldn’t have told you this morning.”

An engine starts on his end, “Don’t move, I’ll be there in ten.”

The smile returns to my face, “So we’re doing this then?”

“No.” I feel so lost. We have never had such a communication problem. I usually know what he’s thinking, what his next move is going to be. But this time, we were on totally different networks. “I’m coming to take you home.”

I want to throw the phone against the window. “You’re pro-choice for Christ’s sake, Darren. Even if I wasn’t going to do this I’d be at that clinic getting an abortion. It’s practically the same thing.”

It’s his turn to sigh. “I don’t know, maybe you’re right. Can we at least talk about this face to face? We can make a decision tomorrow.”

“It is tomorrow. You promised me that this tomorrow would be the last one I’d have to face. The last one that we’d have to face.”

I’m crying. I have been picturing this moment for months. And in every scenario, he was holding my hand.

“You can make it through one more day, Ari.”

I take two deep breaths, “I don’t want to.”

I quickly turn off my phone before chucking it to the seat next to me. I look inside myself for the strength that Darren was supposed to give me. No matter how much I didn’t want to be separated from him, my desire to do this right now overcomes that. My heart suffocates when I think about the entire plane that is going to come between us.

I didn’t write a note for him, I didn’t think I would have to. I had left two notes on my bed—one for Mom, and one for Dad. All of my reasons and farewells on those two slips of paper. But I wasn’t supposed to leave my last words for Darren. I was going to give them in person—right here, in this car—and he was going to give me his. He screwed up the entire plan.

I grab my cell phone, turning it on as quickly as I can. 3:24. He would be here any minute. I have three new voicemails, but I dismiss them and open a new text message.

I love you. Join me soon.

But I don’t send it. I lock the phone and throw it out the window into the grass, underneath the tree we always sit under. My message will be the first thing to appear on the screen when he finds my phone. And I know that he’s going to find it.

3:26. I don’t have much time left. If I let Darren reach me he would surely find a way to talk me out of it. He’s always had that weird power over me. Most people call it love, and I guess I do too. I have loved him since we were thirteen and decided to kiss each other just so we could know what it felt like. But recently, I’ve loved him even more because he told me that I wouldn’t have to do this alone.

We’ve had this planned for a while now. We would talk about it under the covers of the bed as if it would shield us from all the yelling. In needless whispers we made up each step. We’d go to the highest place in town, and look down at how small everything else was from way up there. We would laugh—for the first time in our lives we would feel like we were bigger than everything else. And for ten minutes, we would feel like we matter. For ten minutes, we would be able to pretend that we are on top.

He would entwine his hand in mine, and we’d turn and smile at each other just before I hit the gas. And all the way down we’d scream with excitement. All the way down he’d never let go of my hand.

But it’s going down all different now.

I slowly start to lift my foot from the brake pedal, trying to let the feeling of ultimate control trump the thousands of biting fears in my stomach. And then I completely let go, replacing the brake pedal for the gas. I push it as far back as it will let me. I look at the speedometer—I have never gone over a hundred before.

The thrill is better than any roller coaster I have ever been on. And although the corners of my eyes only see blurs that I know are actually trees and bushes, the Gators' wall is like crystal. I shut my eyes right before the car leaves the road, and through the multiple notes of scraping metal, I hear Darren screaming my name.