Dark Blue

Garrett

I collapsed on my bed, my anguished screams muffled through my pillow. I felt a little better after that, but not much. I had just dropped Val off at her house, and I felt like I couldn't move a muscle. I was hurting; there was this giant crater in my chest where my heart had been. My head ached from all the over thinking and lack of sleep; I was dumbfounded, really. Behind my eyelids I could picture Val's impassive face as she limped out of my car and towards her house for the first time in weeks.

I didn't get it.

She just got out of the hospital. She was still so traumatized, bruised, broken, and fragile. And yet she had insisted on getting back into a car despite her obvious anxiety after the accident and demanded I drive her to my baby sister's, her best friend's, grave. I was no where near that intersection that night, but I could barely motivate myself to wake up in the morning and get out of bed anymore. Val had been center stage, she had seen everything, and yet, broken ribs and all, she was back in the world with a vengeance.

Sage would be proud of her. Hell, I knew I was so impressed and proud of her. I wished I could be that strong. I wished I could do something other than lie around wallowing in pain. I just didn't know how to live in a world where my beautiful, lively eighteen-year-old sister didn't anymore.

I spent most of my time these past few weeks in my bedroom. I couldn't bring myself to look at my parents; every single night at dinner Mom would look at me for a few seconds and burst into tears before excusing herself from the table. Sage and I had the same dark blue eyes, and although Mom never said anything, I knew she was crying because of my eyes; because of me.

My dad threw himself into work, and the only time I even heard him in the house was at dinner. Half of the time, I couldn't tell you where he was or any small detail about what he looked like when he left the house. After dinner, he would head back to the office without a word. By the time I woke up in the morning, he was gone. It was almost like he didn't live here anymore.

And Trey...oh Trey. He barely came over anymore, but every Friday night at family dinner, he showed up. I think he knew just as well as I did that Mom and Dad were having a hard enough time coping with just one empty chair. On those nights though, he was usually buzzed or half-way to wasted. It was the only way he could deal with Sage being gone; by being drunk all the time. A part of me wished I could handle it like that, too. But I knew if I started drinking now, I probably wouldn't be able to stop. And I knew Sage would hate that.

I didn't want to know what we looked like to the outside world. Every day since the accident, family, friends, and neighbors had stopped by to check in on us, each staying long enough to help clean up or to deliver some sort of casserole. Their hearts were in the right place, and honestly, without them the house probably would've been in shambles and we would've been starved.

Mr. and Mrs. Jackson had been by almost daily, dropping off groceries, feeding the pets, and helping out however we needed, whether it was a leaky faucet, laundry, or a shoulder for Mom to cry on. With Val in still in the hospital, they were going insane trying to think of ways to distract themselves. Deep down, I think they felt guilty, too. Their daughter was alive, well on the road to full recovery. Valentine got to come home; Sage would never come barging through our front door again.

A shrill ring broke me from my thoughts and sorrows, and I scrambled to find my phone. I had tossed it on the end table when I came in, or at least tried to. It had ended up under my dresser, and I cursed as I searched for it. Once I finally got it, I was in an even more miserable mood. I didn't even know that was possible.

"Hello?" I asked a little harshly, not bothering to check who was even calling. Most of the people who called me understood, though, not like it was any excuse.

"Sorry man, bad time?" Tim asked, his voice apologetic. I sighed, rubbing my eyes with my free hand.

"It's always a bad time lately, don't worry about it," I mumbled, pacing around my room. I could hear him start to form another condolence, but cut him off. "What did you need, Tim?"
"I needed to talk to you about something," he started lamely.

"About what? Are we breaking up or something?" I joked darkly, but only half my heart was in it. I couldn't bring myself to make jokes or laugh anymore. That part of my brain was lost with Sage.

"Well, there's been this opportunity that arose, but if it's not okay with you, all the other guys agreed it wouldn't happen. I mean, the timing is awful, but the label wanted me to at least mention it to you..."

"Tim, stop your rambling. Get to the point," I prodded impatiently. My temper had been much shorter than I or anyone else was used to. If Tim noticed though, he never let on.

"There's been an offer for you guys to go on another North American tour. I mean, we got the offer the night of the accident, and we meant to tell you but it didn't seem like a good time. It could start as soon as next week, and last possibly up until next spring, but if you want, we could always cut it shorter than that, or-"

"Let's do it," I said suddenly, with more conviction than I'd had in weeks. I don't know what was pushing me, but I hadn't even had to think about it.

"The whole tour?" Tim asked, astounded.

"Yeah, the whole damn thing. Tell the label we will. Tell the guys I'll be there. I want to do this," I stated with certainty, not even giving it a second thought.

"If you're sure..." Tim murmured, not quite sounding so convinced.

"I'm positive."

"Alright, then. I'll let them know."

"Good."

"Okay. I'll keep you posted," he assured me.

"Thanks Tim. Talk to you soon, then."

"Okay, I'll call you after everything's all set up."