Kent didn't know why the hell he kept coming back here when even just standing where he stood when he saw her lying there makes him feel like he's going to crumble to the ground with pain. But, like clockwork, he'd hop on his bike and go riding around. Maybe he wouldn't go so often if it hadn't happened in his own backyard, at his own party, where he could look out the window and still see her crumpled form lying unmoving in the middle of the road.
He stood where she had stood just a moment before running out after Juliet, pushing her out of the way and getting hit instead. Kent wished he could've missed that part, but he arrived just in time to see the whole horrible thing. He wondered if she knew what she was doing, how it must have felt to stand there and know that in a moment, everything would smash to a close. Or maybe she had no idea, maybe all she could think about was saving Juliet. He loved her for that.
Was she alone? Was she scared? Everyone is alone in the end, Kent learned that when his Dad died. Kent kicked a rock into the road and watched a car tire run over it. It was raining, like it had the night she died, but harder. The rain seemed to be pounding bruises into his skin, but Kent didn't care. Every time he let his mind wander, even for a second, it always came back to that night. He couldn't piece it together in his mind, how one event connected to the other. He couldn't explain it.
He could see it, though. He could feel her standing next to him, alive, vibrant, glowing, almost. She seemed happy, so happy that she couldn't have known it was her last night. But then he remembers her telling him that they didn't have much time and it all comes circling back to nothing. He was Samantha Kingston's first kiss, and then he ended up being her last. Go figure.
She flickered in and out of his daily life now. He'd be walking down the hall and he'd see her turn around and face him, tell him she had a secret to tell him later, and then he'd watch her walk away. He'd see a flower and think of the rose she gave him, the note that he still had in his wallet. He'd sit in bed and remember kissing her right in front of it. Inexplicably, he'd have a memory that never happened, holding her hand as she lay on his bed, telling her he wished they could stay like that forever.
He could picture it. Standing at the door, the last time she touched him. She sighed, looked over her shoulder at where Juliet was running - he realized that now. When he asked her if she was in trouble - the way she closed her eyes, the brief look of fear, and then the kiss she gave him - their last kiss, the only one he'd ever get. He should have known then. If Sam did know, then she must have been so, so afraid.
He remembered how she was before that day, though. The rose he sent her didn't seem to fit in with how she acted towards him, he didn't really know what had changed her mind about it. She always seemed to be hiding, like she was afraid she'd get caught for being kind. He closed his eyes, still hearing the sound of her body hitting the truck, and then he got on his bike and rode away. He had somewhere to be.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Kent let his bike clatter to the ground as he pulled up in front of Anna Cartullo's house. He'd gone there once to work on a project for chem. They rarely talked in school, though he rarely talked to anyone anymore. But that wasn't important. It was 11:30 on a school night, but Kent didn't think twice about that as knocked on her door, hoping she could hear over the rain.
After a moment, it swung open and there was Anna Cartullo, clad in cotton pajamas, looking entirely confused to see a sopping wet Kent McFuller at her door. "Kent?" She looked behind her and shut the door. "What are you doing here?"
"You talked to Sam that day, right?" He didn't have to specify which day he was talking about.
Anna sighed, looking like she understood. "Yeah, she, uh, she gave me a book."
"She gave you a book?"
"Yeah."
Kent shook his head. "Why?"
"I don't know, Kent."
"But she's never spoken to you before, why would she give you a book? How would she even know what book to give you?"
"I don't know. It's like you said, I didn't really know her."
"But she gave you a book, a random book, and she spoke to you for the first time and then she spoke to me for the first time in two years and then she kissed me and-" His voice broke, and his eyes started to fill with tears and he really hoped she couldn't tell in the rain. But it looked like she could tell, because she started to look at him with such pity, the same way his parents look at him. Kent didn't want pity. He wanted answers, so he took a few deep breaths and tried to recover. "I'm just trying to figure it out."
"Kent, figuring it out isn't going to bring her back," she said, gently. Kent had to take a few moments after how hard this hit him. He knew that, of course. But maybe that was why he kept coming back to that spot. Because maybe if he found out something about her that he didn't know before, it would almost feel like she was alive again. But she stayed dead no matter what. Trying to relive that day, the only day with her he was ever going to get, didn't make her come back. But Kent just shook his head. "You should go home, it's freezing, you'll get a cold."
"I don't care," he said.
"Go home, Kent," she said.
"I don't… I'm just gonna ride around for a little while, see if Lindsay's up." He turned away from her, started making his way towards his bike when she said something to stop him in his tracks.
"Kent, Sam wouldn't want this."
"Stop," he said, without facing her. "Just stop. You don't know what she would've wanted." He looked back at her. "You said it yourself, you didn't know her." And then he turned away finally hearing the door shut behind him.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
He was biking hard, without any real destination in mind. It seemed so long ago, and yet like yesterday that she showed up at his house. For once in her life, she looked out of place at a party. She kissed him so fiercely, and then slipped away. He couldn't hold on to her any longer. Of course, he followed her, and the thing was, she still looked so glad to see him. He never got to tell her that he loved her too.
Finally, without even meaning to, Kent made his way back to the spot she died, just like always. She was only seventeen years old. He remembered sometimes how mean she could be. But she was seventeen, a kid. She was supposed to have years and years to figure that out, to grow. She never even got the chance to graduate. In the end, though, Sam was nothing but sweetness. At least, to him.
The truth was, Anna didn't know what she would've wanted. But neither did Kent. No one would ever know what she wanted because Sam wasn't around to ask anymore. He could find every single missing piece he was looking for, and he still wouldn't know. He ditched his bike, threw it to the ground and then let himself crumple up and cry, really cry for the first time since after the funeral.
He'd never get to see him her hair against the snow, making snow angels like they used to. He'd never get to see her eyes shine when she looked up at the stars, or when she looked at him. He'd never get to see her hug Izzy, play with her little fingers. He'd never get to stand two rows behind her at graduation and watch her walk up and get her diploma, shining so brightly that it poured out of her. He'd never get to hear how she sounded when she whispered, hear how she laughed, see how she changed in a couple of years, if she looked different, if she had a haircut.
He'd never see her again. It was the most unfair thing Kent could have imagined.
