Crashing Souls by Cynthia A. Rodriguez Read Free Book Online

to keep up, and when Tracey noticed, she slowed down, apologizing. The speakers crackled to life.
    “On this Thanksgiving Day, we would like to honor the lives that were lost tragically just a few weeks ago.”
    Tracey’s eyes widened and she pulled at me, insisting we get to the concession stand. The rest of the words were lost in the crowd. When Tracey noticed the long line for hot chocolate, she pursed her lips, thinking of something else to get me away from the field and whatever the speaker was saying. I didn’t blame her. People knew I’d come and I couldn’t sit in the bleachers, accepting the blame for the loss of those lives.
    “I’m actually, uh, not feeling so great. Can we head home?”
    Tracey nodded sympathetically. I figured Ralph would understand. At least I’d been there for half of the game.

Chapter 6
    I ’d been tinkering on my computer when I heard voices downstairs. My stomach grumbled just as Ralph pushed my bedroom door open.
    “Hey, shit head. We won. Way to ditch.” His voice was loud compared to the silence I’d just been surrounded by. When I opened my mouth to explain, he laughed. “I’m just kidding, man. Aunt Tracey filled me in.” He lay on my bed, his feet dangling from the edge. His blonde hair was wet from a recent shower, bringing out the slight redness of it.
    “Hungry?” I asked, smelling the scent of food from the now-open bedroom door.
    He rolled over to face me. “You have no idea. My parents wanted me to eat with them, but I wasn’t up for General Tso’s. I want some turkey, dang it.”
    “Food’s ready!” At the sound of Tracey’s voice, Ralph grabbed my crutches, threw my left arm over his shoulder and hoisted me up. We stepped down the stairs carefully, and Ralph helped me over to the table.
    “Those crutches are a thing of the past,” he said as he threw them on the couch.
    “Ha. Not yet, man.” I took a roll and bit into with a groan.
    “I used your mom’s recipes,” Tracey said with a smile as she set the turkey on the table. It looked perfect.
    We sat around the table and Tracey’s eyes shined with pride. She’d given me Thanksgiving. More than that, she’d given me a place at the table and the feeling that I was a part of something.
    •••
    Physical therapy was brutal the next morning. I was almost able to walk without crutches though, a feat that made me happy. I didn’t want to go to school needing them. Part of me didn’t want to go at all. Whether I looked like I’d been hit by a car or not, people would have their opinions. And while the game was all right, I worried school would be something else entirely. I wouldn’t have Tracey, and not all of my classes were with Ralph.
    I started my therapy with a psychiatrist and the sessions were short. You couldn’t do much with a person missing all of their memories. I didn’t dare speak of the Angel of Death. That would land me in the psychiatric ward. He assured me that, if I relaxed and took it day by day, I’d likely have flashbacks and memories. I nodded, treating him with the same patience that I did Aunt Tracey, knowing he was wrong.
    “Looks like you haven’t forgotten the computer crap after all,” Ralph said, throwing a miniature football in my direction. He came over after school and dropped off my homework.
    “Seems like it.” I picked up the ball and threw it back at him.
    “So, you’re still headed to that fancy school, I’m guessing.”
    I looked down at the computer keys.
    “I think so. It’s easier that way, to go through with plans already made than to back out and do something else. I feel like I was given a gift.” I looked over at him. “What about you?”
    He fell back on my bed, tossing the ball up and catching it before answering. “I was offered a football scholarship with USC. Los Angeles sounds fun. I’ll probably do that, get my bachelor’s and figure it out from there.”
    “Opposite ends of the country, huh?” I swiveled my chair to face