Page 16 of Up In Flames

Oren

T he elevator lurched to a stop, and I held my breath as I stepped out into the parking garage.

My fist was clenched tight around my keys, and I only hesitated for a second before I turned and strode toward my parking space.

My car had sat untouched so long that a layer of dust had accumulated on it.

The urge to vomit hadn’t appeared yet, which was progress.

After the accident first happened, the thought of getting behind the wheel made me wretch.

It didn't make sense to me. I wasn’t the one driving, but after breaking out into a cold sweat every time I thought about it, I’d brought it up with my therapist and we’d done some unpacking.

The night of the accident. We’d passed the bar. We were going to celebrate. I’d offered to pick Rita and Byron up, but she said she wanted to drive. That for sure I’d never celebrate my success if I was the designated driver.

We were supposed to take a cab home. Byron and I wanted Rita to join in on the fun. I hadn’t been behind the wheel, but in my head, I’d put Rita there. In my head, I should have been the one driving. I should be dead like them. Or we should all be alive. Breathing. Living.

Loving.

Will’s smile flashed in my mind, and a knot of tension in my chest loosened. Not enough to convince me to unlock my car or get behind the wheel, but enough that I wanted to try. For him. For myself.

If I asked, Will would be here in a heartbeat. He’d offered to be there when I took my first spin around the block, but I knew there was no way I’d be able to drive so much as a foot with him in the passenger seat.

The sound of an engine starting nearby was enough to propel me forward, and I unlocked the driver’s side door. I slipped into the seat and closed the door before I could change my mind. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

My hand shook as I shoved the key into the ignition.

I yanked my hand away like the keys were on fire and clutched the steering wheel with an iron grip.

Breathing hurt. Thinking was agony. Memories assaulted me.

Rita. Byron. The smell of gasoline. Twisted metal.

Distant sirens. Tangy copper and flashing lights.

Survivor’s guilt was a hell of a thing. Sometimes I thought it would crush me, squish me until I was flat, frozen in time like a pressed flower, plucked from the bouquet and saved when all the others were left to wilt and rot. But I wasn’t a flower. I wasn’t responsible for what happened.

And that was the problem. I was supposed to have been responsible.

“I’ll drive.”

“We’re already on our way to you, Oren.” Rita’s laughter rang in my ears, and I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t mind.”

“We do. You’re always the responsible one, Oren. You deserve to celebrate, and you won’t if you drive. I promise you can go back to being the designated driver after this.”

“There’s no arguing with us,” Byron said. “It’s two against one, man.”

And now it was just one. Just me. Alone with ghosts in a car I hadn’t driven since the day of the accident.

Exhaling a shaky breath, I wiped the sweat from my brow.

I wanted to do this. So many things in my life had been made more difficult by this roadblock.

Shopping. Getting to work. Going to therapy.

Everything I wanted to do now depended on the bus schedule.

Which was fine. Not entirely convenient, but doable.

There was just one thing I couldn’t do, something that I found mattered more to me than hiding away and not facing down this lingering fear.

I wanted to pick Will up and take him on a date.

He wasn’t out, so no one would know it was a date but us.

Public transit was fine, but it was far more romantic to open the door for a date than it was to pay their bus fare.

In my head, I’d overcome this simply by wanting it enough, but it was clear to me after half an hour sitting in the car, my body cycling through hot and cold sweats, that it was something I’d need more work on.

Even if I managed to start the car and pull out of the parking space, I didn’t feel like I’d be safe behind the wheel.

Taking the keys out of the ignition made my heart rate slow. After a few deep breaths, I put the keys back into the ignition. Then took them out. Then put them in again. I repeated this until my hands stopped shaking. Until I could do it without wanting to cry or puke.

Despite my victory, I still felt hollow when I left the car without so much as starting it.

My small win didn’t feel like enough. Will dashed into burning buildings, and I couldn’t start a fucking car.

Logically, I understood that progress was progress and that a month ago I wouldn’t have even made it to the car before losing my lunch.

But now that I had a goal in mind, I despised myself for the stumbling block that stood in my way.

My mood hadn’t improved by the next day.

Will was on shift, so our texts were sparse.

He’d explained there was a lot more to firefighting than fighting fires, and often they worked just as hard when they weren’t on a call as they did when they were.

Conditioning and strength training were just the start.

I knew he had a million things to do, but knowing he was busy didn’t help my mood at all.

Hal eventually noticed, because of course he did. Nothing got by Hal. Not much anyway. He sure didn’t notice the way Simon looked at him. But that wasn’t my business.

“Come on, thunder cloud, let’s go for lunch.”

Looking up from the document I absolutely hadn’t been paying attention to, I furrowed my brow. “Thunder cloud?”

“Yeah. You’re sitting there like a gloomy little storm cloud. Let’s go for a nice long lunch.” Hal tucked his hands into his pockets. “Come on. Simon already gave us the afternoon.”

Flipping my document shut, I shoved it back in the file and dropped it into my desk drawer. “Oh, he did, did he?”

It wasn’t a big surprise. Simon was a good guy, the kind of boss who cared about his employees. He always made sure I had time off for my therapy appointments. Sometimes I attended them from the office via a video call, but if we were doing a deeper dive, I generally went in to see her.

“Come on. We’ll walk down the block and grab a table at the pub. We don’t have to drink, but they have the best burgers.”

“I swear you’ve never met a burger you didn’t like.” I patted my pockets to make sure I had my phone. I could come back after lunch and get my laptop and stuff. Simon had given us the afternoon, but that didn’t mean I had to take it. Not necessarily.

“Burgers are life.” Hal patted his stomach. He was slightly round. The kind of physique one got from having a desk job. Hal was me in fifteen years. I hoped Will liked a bit of squish around the middle.

And there I was, marrying us off when neither one of us were out, and I was a fucking head case.

After my encounter with Will, my life-changing, universe-shattering, toe-curling, best-sex-ever encounter, I’d done a bit of soul searching.

I was definitely not straight. I wasn’t gay either.

Bisexual seemed the most likely candidate.

I liked women who were shorter than me, who had great legs and infectious laughter.

Hair color mattered less than personality, but I loved a brunette.

Apparently for men, I liked firefighters who were a little taller than I was and strong enough to lift me and fuck me against a wall and—I had to stop thinking about that before I popped a boner.

Hal didn’t talk until we were sitting in the pub. Both of us ordered sodas and bacon cheese burgers with fries. Mayo for him, gravy for me.

“So what’s got you in such a mood today? We haven’t seen you this gloomy since you first started. Everything okay?”

“Did Simon tell you about the accident I was in?”

His eyebrows rose up and met his hairline. “No. When was this? Are you okay?”

“Sorry, I should’ve been more clear. It was months ago. Before I started working for Simon.”

Over lunch, I filled Hal in on the details of the accident. The night out. The drinks. The crash. And Will.

“We started hanging out. First at that fundraiser, but pretty often after that too.”

“I’m glad you made a friend. No offense, but you could use a few more.”

Instead of arguing with him, I dunked one of my fries into the gravy. “And if I wanted him to be more than a friend?”

Hal leaned closer. “Then you want him to be more than a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that. Is that why you’re so upset? Because you’re attracted to him or because you worry what people might think?”

“Neither, actually. I mean… I’ve never been attracted to another guy before, so it’s kind of thrown me to find out that I’m bisexual.” The confession took a weight off my chest. I took a deep breath and said it again, more for my benefit than Hal’s. “I’m bisexual. Wow, that’s…”

“It’s okay is what it is. So you’re all gloomy because you’re having an identity crisis?”

“Well, no, actually. I’m gloomy because I want to drive places, but I can’t. Like, physically can’t. I can barely get the keys in the ignition. I can’t even start the car, let alone take it anywhere.”

Telling Hal that I wanted to take Will out on a date would out Will. But my motivation didn’t matter to Hal. Only the end result.

“So you want to drive again, but you’re having some kind of mental block?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what if I could take you somewhere that you could drive without worrying about shit like traffic?”

“You think that would help?”

“I think that if you’re worried about driving after being in an accident, that it’s not driving that scares you, it’s getting in another accident.

And I think that if you got behind the wheel where there was virtually no way to get in an accident, it might give you the confidence boost you need to get behind the wheel in other scenarios. ”

“And where is this mystical land with no traffic?”

“My cousin owns a farm outside of town. We can get you behind the wheel of one of his flatbeds, and we can drive around the property. There’s a million roads to go down, and the only traffic you might run into are some cows.”

“That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” But I smiled anyway. I didn’t hate the idea.

“I can call him up and let him know we’re on our way if you want.”

“Oh, you meant today?”

Hal grinned at me. “No time like the present. Simon already gave us the afternoon. You’re already having a bad day. It’s the perfect time to go because your bad day will either improve, or it was already shit to begin with. So what’s a little more?”

“Your logic astounds me.”

He grinned at me. “You’re welcome.”

“Call your cousin. What have I got to lose?”

“That’s the spirit.” Hal looked happier than I’d ever seen him as he made the call to his cousin. It was like he’d tied his personal happiness to me in some twisted way. Like I’d made his day just by letting him help me.

It was an hour before I realized he had done exactly that, because I was his friend and he was grateful and relieved that I let him help me.

Hal was my friend. Liam was my friend. Will was my friend.

It might only be three, but it felt like three more than I deserved. Three more than I felt like I’d had that morning when I’d woken up in a bleak mood, feeling sorry for myself. Three suddenly felt like a fortune.