And now he was gone, buried under a pile of rubble. Tears welled as I tried to comprehend the loss. Thirty seconds was all it had taken to end his life, and now I’d never bicker with him again. I’d never instigate a knocking war on our shared wall or communicate with him through Post-it Notes. I’d never spy on his half-naked body through the sliding glass door or fantasize about those powerful arms pushing me up against the shower wall. If only I’d known how little time we had left, I would’ve treated those last minutes with more respect.
I dropped my head to my hands and cried for Chad. For me. For the sex-fueled life we’d never lead. He didn’t deserve this. No one did.
“Dani?”
My lips parted in surprise. It couldn’t be. I’d seen his car. He couldn’t possibly have survived. But when he repeated my name, there was no doubt. That raspy voice, beset with pain, belonged to Chad.
Still, my brain could not compute. “Chad?”
There was a pause before he answered with his typical bluster. “Who else would it be?”
Oh, my god. Even in this life-or-death situation, Chad was being… a dick? If that didn’t prove, beyond any reasonable doubt, that my tough-as-nails neighbor-crush had somehow survived the unsurvivable, I didn’t know what would.
“You’re alive?” I asked, confirming the obvious.
“Would I be talking to you if I were dead?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, falling right back into our comfortable mockery. “Maybe you’re a ghost.”
“No offense, Dani, but if I was a ghost, I sure as hell wouldn’t be spending eternity with you.”
“And, yet, for the last four months, I’ve been doing just that.”
I waited for Chad’s snappy reply. But he remained silent, which was not like him at all. He never missed a chance to volley. Something was wrong. No way would my surly neighbor waste a return of serve.
“Chad?”
“I’m here,” he replied, but the sound came out more like a groan.
“Are you hurt?” I questioned, knowing immediately I’d asked the obvious. Of course he was hurt. No one could survive what he’d survived without injury.
“Well, let’s put it this way. I’m not dead yet, but by the looks of it, you’ll get your wish in about ten more minutes.”
My wish? The hundreds of times I’d threatened his life had all been in jest. Those were the words of a frustrated girl with no other recourse against his force of nature.
“I don’t want you to die, Chad,” I said, maybe the first bit of honesty I’d ever spoken to him. “You know that.”
“Yeah, I know that,” he replied, with possibly the first bit of honesty he’d ever spoken to me.
“Tell me what’s happening to you,” I urged.
“Look for yourself.”
“I can’t see into your car. I don’t even know how you survived that.”
“I survived because I wasn’t in my car.”
“You weren’t? Where were you then?”
“I was coming for you, Dani.”
I let those words percolate in my brain for a second. My neighbor, the one who’d accused me of stealing, who’d stolen my parking spot, and who’d commandeered my thoughts at all hours of the day—and night—had been coming for me. Chad’s face hadn’t been a thought in my mind when I’d thought I was about to die. He’d actually been there, racing toward me, trying to save my life.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “I have my moments.”
“Wait—you can see me?”
“I’m right here.”
I scanned the barren landscape but didn’t see him.
“Look down.”
Down? I stuck my head out of the missing window and there, about three feet from my car, was Chad, covered in grime and buried up to his shoulder blades in rubble. I gasped.
“Yeah,” he said, pain etching lines across his sullen face. “That was my first reaction too.”
I wanted to say something, anything, to make the situation better for him, but there was no silver lining. Chad was in serious trouble.
“Chad…” I began, my voice steeped in sympathy.
“Don’t,” he stopped me. “I know it’s bad. I don’t need your pity.”
He was right. That wasn’t how we worked. We’d never shown each other mercy before, so why start now? Our dysfunction made us stronger, and Chad needed that strength now. If he wanted ‘normal,’ I’d give him normal—starting with an insult. “I’ve been pitying you since the day we met, dude. So why stop now?”
He attempted a chuckle, but the pain proved a worthy adversary. I watched him clench his jaw as he drew in a shaky breath.
Now there was nothing but sincerity in my reply. “I’m coming, Chad. Breathe slow and steady. I’m going to get you out of there. I promise.”
And I meant it. Taking my own deep breath, I reached for my phone only to realize it wasn’t where I’d left it in the cup holder. In fact, the cup holder wasn’t where I’d left it either. Both had, no doubt, blasted off like rockets when the beam cut my car in two. I searched the area around me for my cell with no luck. It was gone, and so was any hope of a coordinated rescue. It was up to me now.
God help us all.
“Not to dampen your optimism,” he said, before proceeding to dampen my optimism, “but, unless you have a bulldozer in your pocket, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Hey, check the doom and gloom, bud. I manage to tie thirty first graders’ shoes every day and still get them out to recess on time. I think I can dig one asshole out of a dirt hole.”
“You’re. A. Teacher?” he asked, every word punctuated with disbelief.
“Don’t sound so surprised. What did you think I did for a living?”
“Well, I’d narrowed it down to a few contenders, with the top one being agent of Satan.”
I laughed, relieved he still had the energy to insult. That meant I still had time—but how much, I wasn’t sure. Unhooking the seatbelt holding me suspended in place, I tried to ready my feet for the impact, but gravity took hold before I could steady myself, and I tumbled to the ground. I let out a cry of pain as a red raised abrasion instantly sprang up on my knee.
“Ouch. Dammit,” I pouted.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I miscalculated,” I replied, pushing myself back onto my feet with my one good arm. “I’ll live.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Enough with the negativity, Chad. Don’t make me come over there and slap you.”
“Not trying to be negative, Dani,” Chad said, puffing out the words. “I’m actually having trouble breathing. The pressure on my chest is insane.”
There was no snark left in my neighbor. His life was hanging in the balance, and he knew it. I had to get to him.
“Just focus on my voice. I’m on my way. I can’t get out the driver side door, so I need to climb over the mountain of concrete in front of my car. It’ll just take me a minute, and then I’ll start digging you out.”
He didn’t respond, his silence an ominous predictor of his decline.