my hint of frustration, that might not continue being the case.
“Tell me you’ll forgive me first,” he smiles.
Not again. “Seriously? You do realize that making me do that is not at all fair, right? Because you could say something terrible like you’re an ax murder or drug embezzler or something.”
“If I were either of those things, would you not forgive me?” Ran stares at me straight through his goggles. I think he’s actually a little bit serious.
I shake my head. “Really?” He nods. “I don’t know—I guess if you were truly sorry then I would forgive you. I guess.” I waver. “I don’t know. That’s just crazy.”
Ran shifts his weight and the whole chair swings back and forth with his sudden movement. I instantly feel like I’m on some rickety ride at the state fair that creaks and groans like it’s one screw from coming completely unhinged.
“Say you forgive me,” he says again. “Please, Maggie.”
I try to marshal the quiver in my voice and once I’m convinced he won’t detect it, I say, “I forgive you, Ran.”
The surrounding air hits my skin in small beads of moisture and it’s hard to see past my hand. I’m not sure how much longer we have until we reach the top, but pretty soon I probably won’t even be able to see his face through the veil of white around us.
“I’m the reason for your accident,” he says in an unnervingly monotone voice.
“What?” The thickness of the air already made it hard to breathe, but his words feel just as heavy on my chest, like a binding corset. “What?” I say again.
“The night of your accident. I’m to blame for it, Maggie.”
“Ran, I don’t know how that’s possible.” I try not to pull away from him, but I can’t help but draw back in question. This makes absolutely no sense.
“I’ve wanted to tell you,” he starts, and I recall the cryptic times he’d mentioned something about feeling guilty or something weird of that nature, but it never developed from there.
“I was hit by a drunk driver.”
He nods and looks in the distance like he’s recalling that night. But all that is in front of him is a bleached stretch of cascading snow. “I know.”
“So how does that make it your fault?”
“Because I sorta wished for it.” His voice is still so clear, so steady, like there’s no emotion held in it whatsoever. Or maybe it’s been drained of the emotion it once embodied, having thought it over and over again, to the point where it is just a recitation rather than a testimony.
“I seriously doubt you wished for me to get plowed into by a drunk driver.” I pull down on the unintentional lift in my voice, hoping not to come across accusatory, because that’s not how I feel, even if my voice indicates otherwise. When will this lift ever get to the top?
“I wanted to rescue you, Maggie.” Ran yanks his beanie off his head and wrings it angrily through his fingers. “It’s a sick game Trav and I play when it’s slow. You know—we point out girls that we’d like to get in the back of our ambulance.” I look down at his lap and am pretty sure that his hat will never be its original shape again.
“And I was one of those girls?” I reiterate.
“Yes.” The twisting continues. “We were stopped at the light just to the right when I caught a glimpse of you through your windshield. God, you were so cute tapping your fingers on your steering wheel nervously. I pointed you out and Trav agreed and I told him I claimed you first and that’s when it happened.” Ran drags his gloved hand down the length of his face. “It was out of nowhere, Maggie. He just barreled into the intersection from the lane next to us.” Ran’s eyes are vacant; his stare is void of any discernable emotion. “Your car flipped and rolled twice. I thought you were dead. There was so much blood.”
We’ve made it to the top of the hill and Ran slinks off the lift like he’s on autopilot. Thankfully, I don’t slip or fall, but glide with him to the side where he drops down and sits directly in the snow with his arms tightened around his knees and his board dug into the powder. I mimic his movements and position myself the same way, right beside him.
“There were three other cars involved, but all I could think about was you. I’ve