When We Collide by A. L. Jackson Page A

her, and she’d never let me.
    Protecting her was no longer a choice. Whatever I
had to do, I would.
    I realized my mother was whispering. Her voice was
low and directed at Blake. “…Always has been a nice girl…Did you
see she stopped by Lara’s reception…Jonathan is such a sweet little
boy…”
    Blake nodded as he ate. “Yeah, I noticed her when
she was heading out.”
    I wanted to scream as my attention darted between
them, shake them, demand to know if they saw even a hint of what
I’d recognized. My father fed Olivia small pieces of his pizza,
paying little attention to the conversation happening around
him.
    It was obvious none of them had any clue.
    Grace continued with her distinct aversion to my
presence, ducking her head to deflect my eye when I tried to search
her face, her movements jerky when she suddenly pushed away from
the table to set Olivia free. She somehow both grumbled and cooed
at her child about the mess she had made, wiped a dampened napkin
over Olivia’s face that was smeared with pizza sauce.
    Every one of them was unaware of what the child
across the room meant, how he was tied to them, bound by an unseen
connection.
    I swept my gaze back to Maggie’s table. God, part of
me wanted to hate her. Blame her.
    Tentatively she raised her head as if she felt
everything I did. She looked at me beneath her veil of hair and
risked meeting my eyes. Exposed herself and all of her
vulnerability, the agony in her face, the shame.
    I lost myself there, ended up back where we’d
begun.
    It didn't matter if I wanted to hate her. I could
only hate the choices she'd made. Maybe the choices I'd made as
well.
    Never once in all those years had I thought maybe,
just maybe, I could have changed her decision. That I could have
made a difference. I couldn't help but question it now. Had I
stayed, would things have been different?
    Troy leaned across the table and stole her
attention, and she turned away from me. Gave in to him. The same
way she always had.
    I closed my eyes. Would it be different now? Could
she see this wasn’t the life she wanted to live? Did she understand
she deserved more ? That her son deserved more ?
    "We should at least stop by and say hi," my mother
said. She grabbed the bill from the center of the table and
gathered her things to stand. “You remember Maggie, don’t you,
Will?”
    I fumbled through the thoughts in my mind to find an
acceptable answer, when Blake suddenly laughed as he sucked the
last of his soda through his straw. Ice clanked when he dropped the
cup back to the table. "I don't think William and Troy get along
much, Ma."
    Grace straightened with Olivia in her arms and
turned to smack Blake against the shoulder, her eyes narrowed in
warning.
    "What?" Blake asked in mock defense, throwing a grin
in my direction.
    After that first night at the bonfire almost six
years ago, I’d spent the entire summer watching Maggie and Troy
together. I’d sat idle for three months while my love for
her had grown and my rage toward Troy had built. At the end of the
summer, it had all erupted in a hate I couldn’t have controlled
even if I’d wanted to.
    Blake had been proud of me, I knew, again standing
up for what we both knew was right, even after he had warned me not
to get involved. But Blake had had no clue just how involved I’d
gotten over those months.
    He had no idea how important that night had been to
me or what Maggie and I had shared after. He had no idea I would
have gladly died for her. To Blake it had been nothing more than me
standing up for the same girl a second time because I believed it
was the right thing to do.
    When in reality, it had been the only thing I could
do.
    Mom looked at me, her expression piqued in question.
She'd never known about the incident. I was sure she would have
freaked out. She would have said she was scared for me, said she'd
never raised me to completely lose myself that way.
    “It was nothing,” I said to reassure her, helping
Emma