John Walked Away

Every thing in this story is true. I remember that weekend like it was five minutes ago. I see that night in my head. I see John walking away, driving away. I see it all on constant replay in my head.
Nothing in this story has been exaggerated for dramatic effect. Even the dialogue. That's exactly how it happened. Every word.
Is it ironic? Yes.
Is it painful? More than I could have ever imagined.

I will never forget August 25, 2006.

At 6:40 pm on Friday, August 25, a fairly short, dark-headed, sixteen year old boy walked into a cozy little coffee shop where we worked with a large Taco Bell bag in hand. He walked as if he owned the world and smiled like sarcastic remarks and witty comments were building up inside his mouth, waiting impatiently to be set free.

"John! You didn’t bring me anything to eat. I might starve!" I teased with a pathetically pouty-looking face. Just one year his senior, I stood almost two inches over John.

John quickly responded, "I’ll go back and get you something. I still have like twenty minutes before I have to clock in."
"No, don’t do that. I’m really fine."

"I really will, Lauren."

"I know you would, John. Just don’t even worry about it."

Minutes later, Branden arrived for work. Thus began an unforgettable night. John and I talked about all of the usual things—school, outrageous customers, future plans, siblings, etc.—and teased each other mercilessly about anything we could. Branden, a tall quiet boy of nineteen years, interjected occasionally, but he mostly obtained his role as an observer of the conversations taking place as the three of us sat in the employee break room during a slow time in the shop.

"You are going to love having physics class with me next semester. I can’t wait to introduce you to the wonderful world of Mr. Cochran! He is without doubt the most hilarious teacher I’ve ever had," I babbled to John. "But don’t you have Pre-Cal this semester? That means you’ll have to tutor me next semester when I have it. I am so tired of math."

"Don’t even worry about, Lauren."

The phone rang and I went to answer it. It was my mother. I went into the office and sat down. "Lauren, I have to tell you something." There was a pause on the line. "Gus got hit by a car." There was another pause as the possibilities of my cat’s injury sunk in. "And he’s dead." Confusion and heartbreak took over me. I loved my cat so much. I finished the conversation and went into the employee restroom to shed a few tears before joining the boys again.

"So was it important?" John asked.

"Yeah," I answered quietly. "My cat died."

"Oh, I’m sorry." John paused, trying to decide what to say. "I’m really sorry."

"I’m tired. It’s been a long week. I’m ready to go home and sleep," I said. The drive thru bell rang and we all jumped up. I rushed to the drive thru window to take the order and handed the paper off to John.

"I can’t wait to get out of here and go camp out," John said as he put ice and strawberry smoothie mix into a blender and turned it on.

"You camp out every weekend!" I rolled my eyes.

"Lauren, I do not camp out every weekend."

"Yes, you do. Every weekend you are always saying that you can’t wait to leave work to go camp out in the yard with your crazy friends."

"Well, this is a real campout. I’m going to Jon Smith’s big campout. The problem is that my parents don’t exactly know Jon. I mean, they know all the other people who are going. They just don’t know Jon. I don’t think they would let me go if I asked."

"You mean you didn’t ask your parents if you could go? So you are just not going to show up at home?"

"Don’t be ridiculous, Lauren. I told Mom I was going to Patrick’s house."

We made our way back to the break room after delivering the order and cleaning up. "So you don’t think you’ll get caught?"

"Don’t even worry about it, Lauren. I never even get close to getting caught. Except for one time… Do you think I should just go home?"

I thought about it for a moment. "I really think you’ll get caught."

"Yeah, man. If you got caught before, you’re likely to get caught again," Branden put in.

"No. I don’t think I can get caught. Even if I do, what’s the worst that can happen? My dad will yell at me. But it will have been worth it. This is going to be an awesome campout!" John made up his mind.

I still didn’t agree. "Whatever you want to do, John, but I still think you’ll get caught."

"Don’t even worry about it, Lauren," John assured me. "I’ll probably end up just going home anyway." The conversation ended when a group of customers came into the shop.

The evening went on about like that until ten o’clock. John was the one to ask me for the key to lock the doors. He quickly closed everything down. He and Branden cleaned the espresso machines, washed dishes, and completed other closing tasks before I had a chance to finish closing the tills. John sat down next to me while I was finishing counting the money. "Hurry up, Lauren! We’re ready to go!" John whined.

I finished quickly and turned off the lights. Branden walked outside, followed by John, who held the door open as I exited. He locked the door and handed me the key. We all said goodbye and walked to our separate vehicles. Before I could even turn my key in the ignition, I saw John’s bright red Toyota Tacoma rush out of the parking lot. And that was that.

I went to sleep as soon as I got home. It was about nine o’clock the next morning when my mother came into my room and very carefully woke me up. "Lauren, I have to tell you something." She paused. "John was in a car accident." There was another pause as I tried to comprehend what my mother was saying. "And he’s dead." Confusion and heartbreak took over me like never before. "I found out at about one o’clock this morning, but I decided not to wake you up. Apparently it happened right after work last night." My eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t decide if she wanted to scream, cry, run, throw up, or even believe it. My stomach and head instantly screamed with pain. He was only sixteen. He was so handsome, smart, and humorous. Why would this happen to him? Why?

In case you've never experienced heartbreak, it feels like your heart is literally breaking. It is the most intense chest pain I have ever felt. That physical pain lasted for weeks. The images will last forever.

John was loved by all of his classmates and treasured by his family. He was a member of the basketball team and, of course, an employee at the local coffee shop. He was a teenager like any other, but that night death chose him. He made the decision to get into the passenger seat of his friend’s truck and not wear a seat belt. His friend was speeding, being chased by some local troublemakers. The predators ran the truck off the road and into a tree. John was thrown through the windshield and the truck flipped over him. The truck finally came to a stop when it ran into a house. It only took those few seconds and John was gone. He was killed instantly.

One month after the accident, I went back to John’s grave. It was so hard to believe that the most vibrant person I’ve ever known was there, six feet under. How could so much life disappear just like that? It feels like it goes against the laws of science. Energy can’t be created or destroyed, right? I’ve never known anyone with so much beautiful energy as my dear John. He was invincible. He was brilliant. He was my friend. I never thought he would make me cry. I never thought this childlike spirit would help me grow up. We aren’t invincible. Carpe diem.

I love you, John.

Yours truly,
Lauren

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