It's Heatbreak Drake

"It's Heartbreak Drake," Lisa whispered to me as he walked past us. A few girls were surrounding him, followed by his usual group. I rolled my eyes. Why did someone need a posse so big?

I shrugged my shoulders, not caring. "So?"

"I've had a crush on him since I first laid eyes on him," she mumbled dreamily, lost in her fantasy.

"Does the word heartbreak not mean anything to you?" I asked her, bumping my palm to her forehead. She snapped out of her day dream.

"He doesn't break hearts the way you think he does. It means that he's so romantic and sweat and just overall perfect. His perfection breaks your heart," she explained. Again I rolled my eyes and returned to reading my book.

Lunch passed, I took my tray with Lisa over to the trashcan to dump it. My head was shoved in a book when someone ran straight in to me, almost knocking me over. Luckily, I caught myself. Lisa skitted to a stop a few feet in front of me.

"My bad, I didn't see you there," Drake said to me. He had stopped right in front of me, and his friends were already done dumping their trays. They stood about ten feet away, waiting for him. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, gathered myself, and started to walk past him towards Lisa. "Yeah, I'm fine, it happens all the time."

We went our separate ways, him with his friends back to his table, and Lisa and I went back to our table, that happened to be in the back of the cafeteria. It was always just her and I. I was too much of a nerd and loner to have any other friends, and Lisa just sort of clung to anybody she could. They had to physically remove her from her last school because she was so comfortable there.

Once we got back to the table to get our stuff and get ready to leave, she started to interrogate me. "What happened? Did you bump in to my future husband accidentally?" She questioned.

I sighed, closing my book. I would never get any reading done if she kept pestering me. "I wasn't looking where I was going, and I accidentally bumped in to him. He asked if I was okay, and I told him yeah, I'm fine, it happens all the time. Are you happy now that you've had the run down on our 10- second conversation?"

"I'm saying this with the ut-most love, but you two would look majorly hot together. If we could just get you to put your hair down, strip this nasty bright yellowish- red color, and change your clothes. You'd be perfect for each other," she suggested. Immediately, I began shaking my head no.

The bell rang and we started our trek to our classes. Fourth period I had Geometry. Drake is also in my class, I thought as I was walking down the hallway. Actually, he's in all of my classes. Weird how that worked out.

Entering class, I walked over to my seat, sat my stuff down, and began to work on the material that we would be given today. Geometry was too easy for me. I should really be in a higher class. I don't even pay attention most of the time, and I still pass class with an A.

Everyone filed in, looks of moodiness etched on their faces. They hated being here just as much as I did. The teacher entered last, and then class started.

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

After class, I made a beeline for the door, signally the end of the day. I rushed to my bike outside, hoping that no one had knocked it over or perhaps stolen it. What can I say, it's a really nice and expensive motorcycle. Lisa was already waiting for me when I got there, on her bicycle.

"I've always been jealous of you because you have this damn motorcycle while I have to ride this regular old bike. One day you are going to pay for me having to ride this thing. Why can't I just ride on the back of your bike again?" Lisa whined.

"Lisa, you know I'd let you ride on the back if there was room. But, unless you want my ass very intimately pressed against your vagina, I don't think you'll be riding with me on my bike anywhere," I chuckled.

Lisa burst out laughing, leaning over. The weight of her bag almost made her tip. "Yeah, that would be awkward. I just wish that I had a boyfriend that could drive me home in his car, or we'd take the bus together or something. I don't know. Hey, where's your backpack?" She suddenly asked me.

"Liz, I never take my bag home, 'cuz I never need to study and I never have any homework to do because I get it done in class," I replied, sitting on my bike, reciting it like a memorized line. Lisa often asked me that question, always forgetting my reply. She is one prone to forgetting things.

"But where's the book that you were reading?"

I showed her my secret hiding place in my hoodie. There was an inside pocket just as well as an outside pocket, big enough for a book as big as 700 pages. I take the expression, "Do it big," a little too seriously sometimes. Books were something I loved very much, so I naturally always had one with me. Most of the time I have more than one.

"Ah, I got you. Well, I'll text you later girly, drive safely," Lisa said to me as she began to ride away. I shouted a familiar farewell before I started my bike and headed home.

The drive home was unique, like it is everyday. The wind blew in my hair, my headphones blared my favorite music, and the sun was high in the sky. It's a beautiful day to go swimming, or perhaps take a nice walk. The outdoors have always relaxed me to a near state of unconsciousness. It's very...natural.

I got home, and wasn't surprised to see that my parents' cars were not in the driveway. Lucky them, they'd won the lottery a few years back, so they quit their jobs and decided to travel around the world. Every year, they were home for Christmas. But it's not like it mattered. As soon as they get home, all they do is spend time at their friends' house. Most of the time it was like I didn't even exist.

I pulled up to the house and parked next to the other vehicles, then headed inside. No doubt, as soon as Lisa got home she would text me. I rather be comfortable when she does than be in the middle of doing something. So, with that, I entered the house and went downstairs to my room. I plopped down in a bean bag chair and pulled out the book I'd been reading earlier. Hopefully, Lisa isn't in the 'let's gossip and talk like we have diarrhea at the mouth' mode and lets me get this book finished. I only have about 267 pages left.

As if on cue, Lisa text me just as I opened the book.

wat's ^ girly? i bet i knw wat ur doin!

Lisa has a thing about typing full words. She says that it takes up too much space, and that abbreviating words is much easier. Frankly, I could text either way, but I'm afraid that if I don't text full words that I might forget how to spell them. The world is getting consumed by technology. Did anyone besides myself even think that the movie Terminator was just a prediction of the future?

I'm not going to bite, Lisa, because I know that you know what I'm doing. I'm not an idiot.

Lisa didn't answer right away, so I started to read my book. It's called The Historian. The facts in the book are true to life, and that's what I love about it, even though I hate history. I love romance, science fiction, and supernatural. Pretty much anything that can't happen in real life, I'll read. Reading about an entirely different world intrigues me to no end.

Almost ten minutes later Lisa answered me back.

U can b so rude. guess wat? i jst got us invtd 2 hrtbrk drake party!!!!!! u r sooo goin wit me!!

No, no, no. No way in hell am I going to a 'Heartbreak Drake' party. There is always so much drama. And I bet that there will be a fight, and the drinks will be spiked, oh, and don't forget that the music would be loud. Definitely loud.

There is no way in hell that I am going to a Heartbreak Drake party. You can't make me go.

Lisa answered right away this time. I'm gonna force u 2 go n/e way, so jst go willnly. it'll b easier!

It didn't matter what Lisa said to me, I wasn't going to go. Not only did I not want to go, but I had alot of reading to catch up on. And besides, Lisa was going to act all weird because she finally got invited to one of Heartbreak Drake's parties. Personally, I can't see what's so appealing about him. He just blends in with all the other guys in the school for me.

My doorbell rang, and my suspicions raised. Who was ringing my doorbell? My parents hadn't alerted me that they were sending anything, nor did I order anything. Lisa wouldn't send me something that she could just give to me. No one else rang in my head.

The doorbell rang twice more, and I raced upstairs to hurry up and answer it before the person standing at the door had to ring it again. It ringed two more times, before I got to it. Could they not wait until they got to the door? Impatience was so much more common in people these days than it was before.

Jake Ryan, Drake's brother, was standing at my door with two packages in his hands. I knew that Drake's brother was a delivery boy, but I would never expect him to deliver anything to my house. He mostly only worked during the summer, and never delivered to my neighborhood. Another guy, Shawn, delivered to my area. He was always nice to me, and I often had something to give him in thanks for doing such a good job delivering.

"Uh, what can I do for you?" I asked him, leaning against the door. In my haste, I'd shoved the book in my hidden pocket. It probably looked like I was hiding a small hand gun.

"Um, I don't usually deliver here, but my brother wanted me to deliver this box to you." Jake handed me two boxes, both the size of shoe boxes. I noticed only one of them was from him. "Have a nice day, Alex," he said, smiling. A few seconds ago he was more shy. What had changed in the span of a few seconds?

"Thanks Jake, and my names not Alex, it's Andy." I rolled my eyes at him and shut the door. He stared at me with a blank expression. A few moments after I shut the door, he turned around and left, cursing. Jake and I had known each other on a first name basis in the 8th grade. I'd had to tutor him in History, Science, and Math. That was only two years ago. Was I that insignificant that he'd forgotten my name?

Lisa text me again, saying that she was coming over and she was going to force me to come. I shrugged my shoulders and headed back down to my room, eager to open the boxes. I sat down in the middle of my floor, a pair of scissors in my hand. First, I opened Drake's box to get it out of the way. Drake and I had never spoken to each other, or even acknowledged the others existence before today. Even when I would come over his house to tutor Jake, he'd always look past me and only focus on what was in the room.

Lisa had flipped out when I'd went over to his house. Actually, she'd ride her bike over to his house to come walk me home as an excuse to see Drake up close in person. Yeah, Lisa had spoken to Drake, probably more than another other girl in school, but they were only acquaintances. As much as she talked his ear off, they should be best friends.

Inside the box was a book, and on top of the book was an all access pass to his party tonight, along with a pair of $50 gift card to Borders, a local bookstore. Why was he sending me this? On the side of the box was a card. I opened it and stared at it with wonder.



So, Drake Ryan had sent me a book, an all access pass to his party tonight, and a $50 gift card to Borders, all because he bumped in to me at lunch on accident. I didn't even see my falling as his fault! I'd been the one not paying attention to where I was going, and ran right in to him. I should be the one sending him apology gifts, not the other way around.

Four quick, quipy knocks had Lisa's name written all over it. Hurriedly, I shoved took the book out and shoved it on the book shelf, along with the gift card. I threw the box under the bed and stuffed the pass in my pocket. How'd she get over here so fast?

Lisa jumped in the air and raced in to my room as I opened the door, the entire time screaming, "I knew all my stalking would pay off!"

Shaking my head, I followed her to where she was currently stationed. At my closet.

"Girly, we need to find you something to wear. Wearing what you have on now would make Drake think that we don't appreciate him inviting us." What was wrong with wearing sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt with a hoodie? It's what I wear most of the time. "Look, you have all of these tight jeans and shirts, but you never wear them. Tonight, these clothes are going to get worn!"

I sat down on the bed and completely ignored her yelling, and pulled out my book and began reading. Did she honestly think that just because we'd gotten invited to a Heartbreak Drake party that we were going to wear the tightest thing that we owned? I certainly wasn't going to wear anything different, and if Lisa wore anything tighter, she'd wear it like a main skin. I still don't understand how she fits in to such tight clothes.

The fact that Drake sent his brother over here to deliver an apology package was a shock. But what had me puzzled was the fact that he'd hand written a letter, saying sorry about knocking me over. As far as I knew, Drake had never sent anyone a package for accidentally doing anything to them. So why had he sent one to me?

I realized that I'd skimmed six whole pages of my book without noticing. My thoughts had distracted me and had gotten the better of me.

Some of Lisa's chatter broke through my ignore bubble that I'd wrapped around my ears. "How does this look? It's not too flashy and it's not too slutty. What do you think?" Lisa picked out a pair of jeans, boots, a cami, and bangles.

Every month, Lisa would force us to go on a shopping spree. I'd buy clothes that I liked but would never wear, and put them in my closet. Lisa would make me promise her that I'd wear the clothes the next day when school started, but I never did. Why would I wear something that might make me feel uncomfortable when I had something to wear that made me feel perfectly fine?

"Lisa, the weather around here is bi- polar. It could be hot one minute and cold the next. I'm wearing what I'm wearing to the party and that's final," I stated, tracing the spine of the book in my hands. Why did she always try to force so many things on me?

She rolled her eyes and plopped herself down on the bed next to me. "Whatever, your loss if guys don't double take. What's in the box in the middle of the floor?" Oh, that's right. Jake had handed me two packages. I nodded for her to go get it, along with the scissors, and she jumped up and brought it back. Lisa could get extremely excited over small, trivial tasks, like washing clothes, or taking out the trash.

Just like Drake's package, I cut the tape on it with the scissors. Skeptically, I pulled out its contents. Inside, was a few letters, hand drawn pictures, preserved flowers, and a bunch of pictures taken from a digital camera. "Chris," I whispered, picking up one of the flowers.

Lisa didn't say anything. Instead, she motioned to see the flower I'd been holding. I handed them to her and picked up one of the letters. They smelled just like Chris, flowers and honey. I traced the outside of the letter with my fingers, and savored the smell, even though I knew it wouldn't fade. I just liked inhaling the smell that it contained.

"Chris still sends you this stuff? It's been a long time since you guys broke up," Lisa commented, diving in the box to look at the other flowers.

Chris Peters is my ex-boyfriend. Like silly little kids, we'd tried to date at a young age, 11. Surprisingly, we'd lasted until my 8th year. Even though it has only been two years since he'd left, I still missed him. He had been accepted to a very good school in Russia, a school that he had looked over before. Parents being parents, they sent in his request anyway, and he just so happen to be accepted. I hadn't shed any tears when he left, and I hadn't been depressed after wards. Keeping it all bottled up inside was how I liked to be, pretending that everything was okay.

Chris's hobby was preserving flowers and photography. When he first got there, he'd sent me pictures of how'd his parents had set up the place. Just for his hobby, they'd built a a large green house. And Chris loved to take pictures, no matter where he was. A conversation we'd once had replayed itself in my head, and for once, instead of ignoring the memory and pushing it away, I welcomed it with open arms.

"Do you ever think that technology will advance so far that scientists or whatever develop a moving picture like in Harry Potter?" Chris asked me. I shrugged my shoulders and continued reading the book, not really paying much attention to the conversation we were having. He noticed I was still reading and sort of ignoring him, and he put his hand over the book. Damn, and I'd been really in to that book too.

Chris had given me full rein of his family's library, and I'd taken advantage of it. I'd taken at least 100 books from there, and I still had about twice as much piled up in the corner of my room. The one I was reading was almost finished. Only about a hundred pages left.

I sighed and leaned more on him, my back covering his entire chest. "Yeah, pictures like that could be made if the circumstances are right. You'd have millions of moving pictures in photo books than. Where would you keep them all?" Stacks and stacks of pictures and photo albums lined Chris's room. It wasn't even like a room, more like a gallery.

Chis sighed, and removed his hand, intertwining it with one of mine. I welcomed it, and rested it in my lap. "What if I was the one to make that? Would you love me more if I was any smarter?" Chris was the smartest person in our class, besides me. My best friend, Lisa, came longer down the line, about 13th. She wasn't the brightest crayon in the box at times, but I did love her like a sister.

I thought about his question and answered as truthfully as I could. "No. I'd probably be proud of your dream being accomplished. We'd pose and make memories like we usually do. Why does it matter?" Sometimes Chris asked questions that were completely out of the blue. Maybe he did it to stump me, surprise me, but all it did was make me think about stuff that I normally wouldn't think about.

Would I love him more if he was any smarter? Would I still even look at him if he had a giant cist on his cheek? Would I still talk to him if he lisped every sentence? Questions like that got me thinking about the person I really was. I mean, would I be picky or prissy if I stopped talking or even noticing Chris if he had a lisp, or a large cist on his cheek? I judge people on how they act, what they say, and their personality. Someones character can speak a thousand words. It can even be more truthful than the person themselves.

Again, Chris shrugged his shoulders. Instead of answering my question, he posed another question. "Why do you call it making memories?"

"Aren't pictures frozen memories?" I questioned him. We'd had this discussion, many times. He just nodded his head in agreement, probably thinking over his argument again. Making memories was fun, and Chris is really in to that. Chris tries to take at least 20-50 pictures a week. He says that he wants something to look at when he gets old.

"Don't underestimate the power of pictures, dude, because they will help you when you start to forget everything you know," I joked, breaking the silent tension in the air. Chris laughed and tightened his hold on my hand. He closed my book, dog earring the page, and threw it across the room. I began to object, but Chris changed our positions, making it so I was laying between his legs. We were positioned right in front of the TV.

He chuckled, and only squeezed his legs tighter to keep me in place as I tried to get up. "No, Sanctuary is about to come on. I hope you didn't forget that." Instantly, at the mention of one of my favorite SyFy shows, I settled down. Chris turned the TV on right as the theme song was being played in the beginning.

Out of no where, Chris brought out a camera and snapped a picture of us. I rolled my eyes and settled back. "Making memories will seem pointless if technology gets as good as you predict it will be," I murmured as the show started. All Chris did was nod, and turn his attention to watching the show with me.

The memory ended just as Lisa began waving her hand in front of my dazed face. I shook my head and turned my attention towards her.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go! You can look at his gifts when we get back," Lisa said, pulling me with her. She dragged me upstairs and in to the garage, where for once, she let me take my time. She knew good and well that if she rushed me on picking out a car that that would determine if we were going or not. I sighed. What did I feel like driving?

Not a motorcycle, because we both couldn't fit on it. The lambo? Maybe. Lisa often asked too many questions about the car. Well, Lisa asked too many questions about everything. Still, driving the lambo would probably be the best idea if Lisa wanted to get out of the car without ripping any of the clothes she had on.

I walked over to the car of my choice and got in, Lisa not too far behind.

"I was hoping that you would pick this car. You know how I like to arrive: in style."

Our laughter filled the car as we drove to Drake's party. Today would either end in victory or disaster.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Drake's entire block was packed. Literally, there was no where to park. And I refused to park on a totally different block. So, for the past 10 minutes I've watched people come in and out, waiting for one of them to leave so I could get a close space.

Sadly, no one left that had a close space. I'd been reduced to parking on the street behind his house, right in front of the house that was directly behind his. It angered me a bit, but I quickly let it go. There's no reason of getting angry over spilled milk.

Even if this was the safest neighborhood, I didn't trust that my car would be safe. Plus, there were intoxicated people around, and there's no telling what they'll do in their drunken stupor. I took Drake's all access pass out of my pocket and handed it to Lisa. She looked at me with a questioning gaze.

"Drake sent his brother Jake with an apology package and this came with it. Sorry I can't come in with you, but there are too many drunken idiots around to quench the idea that my car will have no damage when we come out. Go in, have a good time, and tomorrow I'll show you what he sent me, deal?"

Lisa looked at me with the idea of thrashing me for not telling her that "Heartbreak Drake," had sent me a package. But, being her normal self, she quickly shrugged it off and began smiling. "Okay, deal. I'll text you when I'm ready to go, okay? And if you see me stumbling outside, drunk, come and get me. I don't want to make a mistake that I'll regret for the rest of my life."

I chuckled at her and nodded. She reached over, hugged me, and proceeded to get out of the car and walk across the lawn to Drake's house. From where I was sitting, I could clearly see that the guard at the door was surprised that she had that type of pass. I'd driven Lisa to one of these party's before, and she'd always try to crash the party. No matter what though, she could never get it. I saw her face swell with pride as the guard let her in.

"Be careful, Lisa," I whispered. From the glove compartment I grabbed a book and began reading. In every car I had some books to read, something to keep my mind occupied. No doubt, I'd be out here for a good while before Lisa text me saying that she was ready to leave. Hopefully, she wouldn't text me asking for help. Certainly, I expected that Lisa could take care of herself in any given situation. But not while drinking, and certainly not while there was a stronger male in the mix trying to make her do something that she was refusing to do.

Maybe I should have gone in with her. After all, I can always get any damages from the car repaired, but I can't take away any bad memories that happen to Lisa. She'd have to live with them for the rest of her life, and I'd have to live with the fact that I'd cared about the safety of my car more than the safety of my best friend. How self centered.

I debated about going in, and decided that as soon as I felt an uneasy feeling that I would call her and make sure she was okay. If she didn't answer, I'd go inside and make sure she was okay. If anything happens to Lisa tonight, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.

Exhaling, I opened my book and dove right in.

*************************************************************
By the time I had finished all the books in my car, it was 11:47 pm. Lisa hadn't text me, and I was beginning to get worried. We'd arrived here half past 8, which was about three and a half hours ago. Why hadn't she text me since then?

A knock on my window scared the hell out of me, but I didn't let it show. Instead, I calmly turned, to see Drake standing there, hands shoved in his pockets. I grabbed my keys and cellphone from the seat beside me and exited the car, locking the doors.

"Why didn't you come inside?" He asked me. His body was relaxed, and his breath smelled faintly of alcohol, but he wasn't drunk, or even tipsy. If anything, Drake looked a little disappointed.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Lisa wouldn't have been able to get to do all the things I would have been able to do with an all access pass, and she wanted to go more than I did," I explained. It was so cold outside that I could see my breath in front of my face. Had Lisa been wearing a jacket? She should have as cold as it is outside. If she stayed outside at all at the party, she probably already had a cold. "Oh, and thank you for the apology package. Even though it was unnecessary."

Drake shook his head in response. "I should have been watching where I was going, and instead I was paying attention to my friends. I hope you liked what was in the package."

As he was speaking, I couldn't help but see what color his eyes were: a deep brown, mixed with red. Was it possible for someone to have red in their eyes? Well, maybe. I had purple eyes. People asked me all the time if I wore contacts, but I don't. The purple eyes are from my fathers side, and my blackish red hair from my mothers side. And my body, well, that was from farther down the line. Neither of my parents were as built as me, as curvy as me, as smart as me, or as tall as me.

I was the person with all the good qualities and traits combined.

"Yeah, the book I'll definitely read, and the gift card I will definitely use, however unnecessary the gifts were," I said to him. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark. "I feel as if I should give them back they're so unnecessary," I added.

Drake shook his head and began to speak, but I cut him off. "I mean, hey, if everyone gave me apology gifts for bumping in to me, it'd be Christmas year round." We both laughed, and I realized why people were so affected by him, or at least partly anyway.

He was just a regular nice guy. Sure, Drake was very good looking, but his looks weren't the only good thing about him. In the conversations Lisa had recounted with him, it seemed as if he had a good head on his shoulders, and wasn't the type of guy who just used girls and threw them away, which had been my assumption before.

A scream interrupted Drake's next sentence. I glanced up at his house and a terrible realization came to mind. That scream sounded familiar, it sounded like....Lisa.

Drake started to turn around and walk, but I was in panic mode. I took off running, and as soon as I got inside I began pushing people aside. When it started to get took thick, I jumped over furniture, and even people lying down on the ground. What had been going on in here? The music had receded to a low beat as everyone stood around and continued to listen to the screams echoing from above. Were they just going to stand there and do nothing? Idiots!!

I hit the landing upstairs and raced to the room at the end of the hallway, where the screaming was originating from. The knob was locked. Faintly, I could hear steps coming from behind me, but I ignored them. My foot slammed in to the door, and the hinges snapped off the wall. The door fell on the floor and I entered.

"Andy! ANDY!" Lisa screamed. Michael Hawkins had her backed in to a corner. He was buck naked, everything on him was hanging out. I could smell the alcohol from where I was standing. Lisa's shirt was ripped, along with her pants hanging half way off her ass.

Lisa's eyes lit up when she saw me. Michael turned towards me and looked at me in surprise. That surprise quickly turned to anger.

"Get the hell out!" He roared, charging me. Mistake number three pal. Number one had been getting drunk. Number two had been taking Lisa upstairs and trying to rape her. And, well, number three had been running at me at full speed, all 6 foot seven inches of him. Behind me, I heard Drake stop at the door.

He couldn't move fast enough to stop Michael from charging at me. In return, I ran at him just as fast. He reached to touch me, but I swiveled to the side and ended up behind him. I bent my knees and jumped up, my leg shooting out, my foot colliding with his head. A loud smack echoed through the room.

A crowed had gathered at the front door, Drake being in the front, just standing, watching with glazed eyes.

Michael got up and came at me again, angrier than he was before. I tripped him, but as he was falling he grabbed my wrist, making me land on top. Oh, he was done for. I pinned him to the floor, and my fists lashed out, striking him repeatedly. When I was finished with him, he wouldn't be recognizable.

My fists just kept hitting and hitting, like a steady beat in a club. Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, bam. Lisa's voice broke through the rhythm. "Andy! Stop!"

Momentarily distracted, Lisa was pulling on my shirt, trying to get me off of Michael. Dazed, I got off him, standing him. His breathing was labored and his eyes were half shut, his entire face already swelling up. I looked over at Lisa, who was balling her eyes out. How long had I been hitting him? Lisa tried pulling me to the door, but not before I took off my hoodie and gave it to her to wear, it flowing a little lower than mid- thigh on her.

Lisa and I bobbed and weaved through the crowd we had acquired. Was Michael going to be okay? As soon as my mind had registered that Lisa had been in trouble, I had jumped straight to attack mode. Was that action really necessary? Could I have stopped Michael any other way?

No, no, no. I'm not going to beat myself up over my decisions when it involves Lisa's safety. If only I would have called her, or went in to check on her, none of this would have happened.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to prevent this," I whispered to her in the night air. She shook her head.

"No, you taught me to judge character better. It's my fault that Mi-"

Quickly, I interrupted her. "Lisa, just drop it, okay? There's no way in hell that this is your fault, okay?" I stopped our progression to the car and turned her to face me. "I should have texted you to see if you were okay. If you hadn't answered, I should have called, or came in. There are a million ways I could have prevented what just happened." I mumbled the last part. A state of depression overcame me. Shoulda, coulda, woulda.