The Accident

by Devyn Forrest

  Mr. Everton’s face was marred with sadness. He could feel the anguish and pain that I was feeling and the ring was the last thing that he was worried about. It really did sound like he wanted to make sure I would succeed. But the question was, why was it so important to him?

  “Listen, Rooney. I don’t want you to end your time here. I don’t know what kind of drama is going on with you or your friends, but that doesn’t matter at all compared to what kind of damage you can do at Nationals or at the trials and at the Olympics themselves. Rooney, you have what it takes. Whatever it is. And I want to make sure you go all the way—all the damn way.” He stood up and sucked in a breath before locking eyes with me again. “Rooney, I want to offer to pay the rest of your tuition. It would mean everything to me to watch you go up in front of your father—my rival for all those years, and a literal piece of scum in my eyes—and show him that you did it without him. You never needed him. Ever.”

  I looked at him, a little shocked. He was offering me the remaining tuition to help me succeed so he could get back at Rudy. Did he even have my best interest at heart, or was this all about him? I had no idea how to respond. There was another knock at the door, and Mr. Everton looked like he was about to leap from his skin. He turned quickly to find Chloe ambling in, carrying two little things of ice cream. Her face fell, I guess, because she sensed the tension in the room. After a pause, she said, “Should I come back later?”

  “No. We just finished,” I shot out in a very gruff voice. I couldn’t even pretend to smile at the moment, because it certainly wouldn’t fit the emotions I was feeling. Chloe gave me this curious look when she cocked her head to the side. She knew me too well. “Is everything okay?” She asked.

  “Think about it,” Mr. Everton offered before he pocketed the ring and nodded to Chloe before he cut out into the hallway.

  Chloe then shifted against the door and it flung closed. She never really knew her own strength. She tapped toward me and placed the ice cream on my bed. “What the hell was that about?”

  Suddenly, I bucked to the side of my bed, grabbed the wastebasket, and flung my head over it. I vomited as my stomach clenched and my head throbbed. Each roll that came over me felt like it cleared me out. I had no fucking clue what I was even throwing up since I hadn’t eaten much before the mid-semester contest. Of course, I had always heard that a sign of concussion was throwing up. Here I was, living it.

  In some ways, though, I actually felt like I was vomiting up the information Mr. Everton had just given me. I didn’t want to know the truth. The photo of Zelda and Rudy at the courthouse that Mr. Everton showed me was now burned into the back of my brain. It was a portrait of the life I should have had.

  When I brought my head up, tears were streaked down my cheeks and snot bubbled out of my nose and my lips were trembling. Chloe sat beside me, a towel stretched out wide. She gave me a coaxing smile and said, “You’re going to be okay, Rooney. Everything is going to be okay.”

  Chloe cleaned me up in the adjoining bathroom and helped me back into bed. I had never felt more exhausted in my life. She splayed my hair on either side of me on the pillow and made a joke about how I looked like sleeping beauty. I asked her if she thought I should sleep more, and she said she would ask a nurse. But before she returned, my eyes were already closed and I was lost in whatever land my concussion brain had created for me.

  Luckily, for my own sanity, I didn’t dream.

  Chapter Four

  The doctor cleared me to leave the hospital three days after the accident. Apparently, there’s a watch period for concussion patients, during which you’re not allowed to eat just in case of a spontaneous surgery, which meant that the minute my feet stepped back out onto the campus grounds, I felt woozy with hunger. Chloe carried my gymnastics bag and squeezed my hand, saying, “I don’t mind blowing off school today. Let’s have a sick day together back in the room.”

  “Only if we can order really ridiculously delicious food,” I said.

  “You read my mind, girl,” Chloe said.

  When we reached our dorm room in the basement, my heart surged with a feeling I didn’t recognize. Was it—the feeling of happiness people usually got when they returned home? I had never had it before. Chloe yanked the key to the side and burst the door open and there we were in our dank, dark little room. I leaped forward and hugged her so hard. Having these emotions was like standing out in the Pacific and getting run over by wave after wave.

  “Calm down!” she said playfully. Then, she made sure the door was latched tightly and led me to her bed. She searched around beneath her mattress for a second and yanked out a large bag. She dropped to the ground and spread out the contents of the bag in front of me like she was a cat who had just caught a mouse and wanted to show off.

  “You know how Max has that connection outside?” she said. “Well, I got him to get us the best junk food. I figured you would be starving and it was an emergency. Besides, we don’t have a contest for a while, so I don’t really care if it bogs down my swim times for a few days. Look…”

  She dragged treats, one by one, out of the bag—Lays potato chips both BBQ and regular, Pop-Tarts, Twizzlers, Twix bars, Hershey’s chocolate, tiny Reese’s cups, and pretzels with cheese dip. I just gaped at her, in complete shock, and then threw my arms around her. Nobody had ever made such a gesture.

  “Oh, but also—I have Max bringing us burritos from the kitchen in a few minutes,” she said. “You’re going to need some nutrients, to go along with that sugar rush you’ll have later. After not eating much for a few days, I don’t think just sugar is going to cut it.”

  I laughed and then felt my eyes begin to well up with tears. “Jesus Christ. I’m a mess!”

  “Maybe a little,” she said. “But you’re allowed to be.”

  True to his word, Max appeared minutes later with a bag of chicken burritos, guacamole and even more chips. Chloe flung her arms around him and gave him a tender kiss on the neck, which I pretended not to see. Max beamed at me, and I hugged him too, so glad that all the drama of the past few weeks was over.

  “We almost lost her there for a while, didn’t we?” Max said, talking about Chloe and our little fight.

  “Yeah, thanks to Poppy’s creativity. That bitch is going to get hers all in good time,” I said in a harsh tone looking at him.

  “Shit. How are you feeling?” Max asked.

  “Like I have a concussion and the world is blurry,” I said and smiled. “The doctor said I’m not cleared to workout again for another three weeks, which is way longer than I’ve ever taken off. I might go crazy.”

  “I guess you’ll be busy eating your way through this chocolate,” Max winked and pulled Chloe closer to him.

  “Yeah. Maybe professional snack binging is my new career.” I laughed and tore open the foil on my burrito and inhaled the flavors of chili, roasted chicken and melted cheese. When I took my first bite, it was almost religious. I closed my eyes and let out a low moan. “Max, I’m either going to marry you or this burrito,” I said with my mouth full.

  Max had to get to class, so he kissed Chloe again and said he would check in on us later. When he left, he hovered in the doorway for a second and turned his eyes to Chloe. “Have you um. Have you told her?”

  “Told me what?” I blurted, looking from Chloe and then back, Max.

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t need to know. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

  “I just think it’s better if she gets a warning.”

  “I love being talked about like I’m not here…” I sighed and took another bite.

  “Sorry. Sorry. Yeah um. I’ll see you guys later,” Max said. He shuffled off, kicking the door closed behind him.

  I turned to Chloe, still holding onto my burrito like it was single-handedly keeping me alive. “What was that about?”

  “Oh my god, it literally doesn’t matter,” Chloe repeated. “Let’s just eat and relax.”

  It didn’t take a lot of co
axing for me to do that. We hustled into my bunk with our burritos, some water, and as much candy as we could carry. Chloe lurched across the space between our bunks and grabbed her computer, nearly falling face-first toward the ground. When she returned fully to my bed, she said, “Whew. Too bad, I couldn’t be off sick for that long as well. We could have just bummed around the next few weeks together like invalids.”

  “Fun,” I said, my voice heavy with sarcasm.

  “Okay. I’m going to continue us on our journey of watching all the movies you don’t know anything about. It’s a love story between the 2000s’ hottest actors— Mandy Moore and Shane Pribble.

  Introducing…A Walk to Remember.”

  She was right. I hadn’t seen it. I dug into my pillow and inhaled my burrito and then a few chewy Twizzlers as Mandy Moore walked doe-eyed through her little small town and tried to make Shane Pribble into a better man.

  But when she came out with news of her cancer diagnosis, my heart nearly stopped. I lurched forward and stopped the video. Chloe just looked at me.

  “I know it’s sad,” she said, alarmed at how panicked I probably looked. “But I promise it kind of has a happy ending.”

  “It’s not that,” I whispered. “I just need to tell you something. But you have to keep it a secret. Mr. Everton came into my room the other day, remember?”

  Chloe nodded. “He looked really weird. Like he didn’t want me to be there.”

  “Right. It’s because he told me who he thinks my parents are,” I said. Stressed, I grabbed another Twizzler and gnawed at the top.

  “What…?” Chloe whispered. “What the hell! You’ve known this since Saturday and you’re just telling me now.”

  “I didn’t want to think about it. But um. My mom, apparently she died of cancer and maybe my dad couldn’t handle it or something. I don’t know. He took off soon after that.”

  “How does Mr. Everton know about that? Why does he care?” Chloe demanded.

  I grabbed her computer and typed in their names. Rudy Eyser and Zelda Parkington. Again, that newspaper article popped up from eighteen years before. I went to Google images and made it as big as it could be. Chloe gasped when her eyes locked on the photo in the article.

  “She looks just like you. She’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah and look at who she’s marrying,” I said, pointing at the tiny names beneath.

  “Holy fuck. Are you saying that your dad is Rudy Eyser?” Chloe demanded. She bucked up and leaned against the wall, spilling chips across my pillow. “He’s one of the most celebrated Olympians ever and he owns that school up in Washington…”

  I nodded. “I don’t have any proof, but yeah, I think he is. Apparently, he dropped me off here in Denver and went to start a new life somewhere else.”

  Chloe took the computer from me. She was more experienced at typing, and her fingers flew across the keys. Within seconds, she drew up an article about Rudy Eyser. “Olympic Champion Rudy Eyser on Family Values and Why He Would Give His Life to The Seattle Eyser Athletics Academy,” she read aloud and stole a quick glance at me before continuing.

  “Family…values?” I whispered and rolled my eyes with annoyance.

  Chloe continued to read. “Rudy Eyser was only twenty-five years old when he arrived in Seattle. ‘I grew up in Denver, and after my father died, I needed a change of scene. Seattle had everything—the mountains, the water, and serious athletes. I had grown up in gymnastics and really didn’t know anything else. I wanted to train, but I wanted to do it in a way that helped kids the same way I had been helped at Denver Athletics, the school I went to. It offered a good balance of socializing, education and serious, serious training. So, I started The Seattle Eyser Athletics Academy.’ And I’ve basically given my life over to it. We’ve had some of the top athletes in the country since then. We aren’t quite up to Denver Athletics standards, maybe, but we’re getting there. And everybody needs a rival.’

  “Since starting Seattle Eyser Athletics, Rudy met his wife, Sophie, and now has two children—a son, eight, and a daughter, six. Apparently, they’re both just as wild about gymnastics as their father. ‘I can’t get Eva to stop doing handsprings in the house,’ Rudy says, chuckling. ‘She wears my Olympic medal around everywhere and pretends like it’s hers. My wife thinks it’s hilarious.’

  “Sophie Eyser is a previous gymnast and now cheerleading coach for the Seattle Seahawks cheerleading team. She gushes about Rudy, saying, ‘He knows how to balance his children, his school, his own athletics, his involvement with Nationals and the Olympic trials, and still knows when I need a hug. I really couldn’t ask for a better life or a better husband. It’s all thanks to Rudy. He has vision and knows how to get what he wants.’”

  While Chloe read, it was like all the blood in my body turned to ice. She blinked up and actually asked me if I was going to pass out. I shook my head slowly and clenched my Twizzler so hard that my fingers turned white.

  “What a fucking asshole,” Chloe muttered. “Family values? And he just…”

  “Don’t say it,” I whispered. “Please. Don’t say that he abandoned me. I just don’t want to hear it.”

  Chloe dropped her chin to her chest, and a sheet of her greenish blonde hair drew over her face. Her arms were limp, and I took the computer away from her to look at the current photos of Rudy Eyser, his wife Sophie Eyser, and their two children, Eva and Sam.

  Sophie was red-headed and confident, like every cheerleader I had ever seen, with enormous breasts and a cinched-in waist and teeth that looked like they could tear through steel. Eva’s hair was darker, like mine, and Sam was red-headed like his mother. In the photo, they posed on a mountain, with even more white-capped mountains behind. They looked athletic and muscular and ready to conquer whatever got in their way. It was picture perfect.

  I was a mistake that Rudy obviously couldn’t deal with alone and found it easier to just throw to the curb and leave behind.

  “Well. They look like America’s Number One family,” I scoffed and rubbed my arms.

  “They really do,” Chloe returned and then placed a hand on my arm, watching me fidget. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just trying to process.”

  We sat like that for a long time, just looking at them. I had no idea what Chloe was thinking. I knew she was worried about me, especially after everything that had just happened.

  It was almost like he sensed what I was reading because Mr. Everton texted me that second. I swiped my phone and shielded it from Chloe.

  Thomas Everton: Hey, Rooney. I heard you were discharged from the hospital. I wanted to know if you had thought any more about my offer. I don’t want to pay it unless you give me the okay, but I wanted to tell you again—I am on your side in this. I can’t say that I wouldn’t get some gain out of you winning all of this. I would. Hell, I still have nightmares about Rudy beating me to the gold. But beyond that, I know you want to stay in school, way more than I want you to win. Let me know. I’ll wire the money the second you do. Or, if you don’t, I wish you well. And I’ll stay out of your way.

  I took a heavy breath and thought about my dad, about his “family values,” and about those bright-toothed beautiful Eysers in the mountain photograph. What the hell. I typed back.

  Me: Mr. Everton, I will owe you for the rest of my life. But I don’t have another option. Please, wire the money. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I can’t wait to start training again.

  He wrote back right away.

  Thomas Everton: Wonderful. The money will be transferred ASAP. Let me know if you want to come back for dinner sometime. I’d love to talk with you more, without our dear friend Poppy making so much chaos—all my best.

  “Are you okay?” Chloe asked.

  I had been quiet for a long time. I nodded and blinked several times. I felt like I had been punched in the gut so many times that my intestines had started to reorganize themselves. Finally, I turned toward her and said, “Chloe. Wh
at was it Max was saying before he left? Something about telling me the truth?”

  Chloe heaved a sigh. Before she answered, she cut her teeth over a Twix bar and chewed slowly. The chocolate flickered off the edge of the bar and caked over her white sweatshirt. I thought the silence would destroy me.

  But what she said when she finally opened her mouth? It nearly brought me to tears, because it was so goddamn funny.

  Chapter Five

  Apparently, after my chaotic fall from both grace and the balance beam, Poppy had decided that her next line of attack would be a bit more on the emotional side of things.