All In

by Marta Brown

  “You’re wrong!” I cry. Tears stream down my face as my insides churn that the same reasons Gregory spewed at Lane for being in his current predicament, is the same rationale my parents are using against Lane now.

  I just wish they could see him the way I do; loyal, hardworking, kind, protective, and mine. And nothing will ever change that. Ever.

  “There’s no use in speaking with you right now if you cannot be reasoned with. Your mother and I will speak to you when you are no longer acting like a child,” he finishes, shutting my door with a heavy click, leaving me alone.

  Finally.

  I grab my phone from my dresser, relieved they didn’t take it away, and check for any messages from Lane. Nothing but a missed call. I hope he’s not mad, although he has every right to be.

  I need to see him. To apologize. To figure out what we’re going to do in the fall. But more than anything what I need is to be in his arms.

  I change my clothes and start to text Lane when I hear a blood curdling scream come from upstairs. My mother.

  I drop my phone to the floor and run up the stairs taking them two at a time. My heart is pounding by the time I make it into the living room, where my mother is clutching the phone, her face pale, her body stiff. My father, on the other hand, is her exact opposite. He’s frantically running around the room gathering up miscellaneous items and tossing them into my mother’s purse. He grabs the car keys and clutches them tight in his hand before looking up at me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I really want the answer. Whatever it is, it’s not good by the look on their faces.

  “It’s your brother. He’s been in an accident.”

  …

  A haze of red and blue flashing lights cut through the thick gray smoke that’s filled the air and is raising high above the trees.

  When we reach the barricade, hastily set up to keep the accident site clear, I jump from the car and run across the road to where Andrew is being hoisted into an ambulance.

  “Andrew!”

  Straps hold him to the gurney while bright red blood soaks through the bandages that are wrapped around his head. His eyes are closed, his body lifeless.

  “Andrew,” I scream again, hoping he’ll open his eyes at the sound of my voice, proving he’s alive. Nothing. He remains motionless as the doors of the ambulance slam shut. The wail of sirens pierce my ears then fades further and further away as it disappears down the dark road headed in the direction of the hospital.

  I spin around and see my parents speaking with a cop. My mother’s crying while my father nods, his arm wrapped tight around her body, Gregory standing next to them. Why is Gregory here? What the hell happened?

  I scan the accident trying to make sense of the wreckage, but it’s nothing more than a heap of crushed burnt metal and glass. The smell of gasoline and smoke burns my eyes. I blink away the tears obstructing my vision and gasp at the barely recognizable cherry red car that’s in front of me, mangled like a child’s toy and charred black from fire. I feel my heart stop instantly. I can’t seem to pull in the air I need as I gape at the wreck, my breaths clipped and shallow.

  Everything is moving in slow motion and at the speed of light all at once. I think my parents are calling my name, but it’s muddled like I’m underwater. I follow their voices, but it’s hard to move my body it’s so heavy. I push to keep going forward refusing to stop until I find out what happened. I need to know if Andrew and Lane are okay.

  I take one last look over my shoulder when I reach the yellow caution tape strung across the road, trying to decide if anyone could have made it out alive, let alone two people, when I stop dead in my tracks.

  Lane.

  My world stops as I watch a police officer, holding Lane by the arm, open the back of the patrol car and place him inside.

  The whole scene tilts sideways as I fall to the ground, my legs no longer able to hold me up, breathing impossible.

  People talk to me, around me, and at me, but I can’t understand what they’re saying. All I can do is lie silently on the cold hard ground and attempt to keep the fuzzy black edges of my mind from closing in on me.

  Lane’s getting arrested.

  This is his fault.

  Chapter 27

  Lane

  “Try to sit still,” the gruff nurse says, looking down at my legs.

  Am I moving? I glance down at my body; my clothes covered in black soot and blood and realize she’s right. I’m shaking. I try to stop, but it’s impossible with all the adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

  I look at her helplessly. “I can’t.”

  “Shhh, it’s okay.” She takes a long look at me before getting up and leaving the room. She returns a moment later with a heated blanket and wraps it around my shaking frame. It doesn’t help. Even under the warmth of the blanket I’m still freezing and can’t figure out why I’m so cold when I’m pouring sweat. I feel weird. Alert and sluggish. The details of the night both crystal clear and foggy at the same time.

  “How you doin’ now?” she asks, continuing to dress my burns.

  I want to tell her I’m fine, but it’s hard to speak between my teeth chattering and the taste of blood in the back of my throat from screaming, or maybe from inhaling so much smoke, but probably both. I want her to quit asking me how I’m doing and tell me how Andrew’s doing.

  My mind flashes to Andrew’s face, bloody and pale and I slam my eyes shut, but I can’t stop the images from coming. I relive it like it’s happening again, right then and there.

  Everything is black. I can hear myself screaming as I run to pull Andrew from the wreckage. The fire is spreading so fast I have to squint to see through the heavy smoke engulfing the car. I bury my nose in the crook of my elbow, but the smell of gasoline, smoke and burning flesh is so overwhelming it makes my stomach roil, and I don’t know if it’s me or Andrew who’s on fire.

  My body feels numb, like it belongs to someone else while I watch from the outside. I reach Andrew, fire licking at my skin as blood pours down his face and suddenly my mind and body slam back into each other and I can feel every blazing flame searing my skin.

  I climb over the crumpled passenger side door and fumble with the seatbelt until it comes undone, no longer trapping Andrew’s limp body in this inferno of burning metal. Propping my hands under his arms, I drag his unconscious body out of the car and a safe distance away in case it blows. On a small patch of grass at the edge of the road I collapse with Andrew then check his vitals the best I know how. He’s still breathing, but his breath and pulse are faint.

  “Come on man, stay with me,” I shout, wiping the blood from his ghostly white face, his body cold to the touch. I search frantically for the cut, to apply pressure, but can’t find the source, there’s just too much blood matting his hair and running down the side of his head, soaking his shirt almost completely.

  The sound of ambulance sirens blare in the distance. “Help’s on the way, man. Just hold on. Okay?” I say, feeling something hot and wet run down my cheeks, and I don’t know if it's blood or tears or both. “Just hold on a little longer.”

  “All done,” the nurse says, snapping me out of it. The memory leaves my heart pounding as she secures the last piece of tape around the cotton gauze covering most of my right hand and the majority of both arms up to my elbows.

  I shrug the blanket off, stand up and wobble unsteadily when my feet touch the ground.

  “Whoa there, not so fast.” The nurse guides me back to the bed and covers me up again. “I think we’re going to have you lie down for a little while longer, until a family member gets here. You’re still in shock.”

  Shock? That can’t be. Can it? With the pain meds having finally kicked in, soothing the pain of my burns, I feel fine, besides the unusual tremors racking my body every few minutes.

  “But I need to see Ashley,” I say like the nurse knows who the hell I’m talking about. I try to sit up again, but she pushes me gently back d
own. I look at her pleadingly. “I have to get up. Please. I have to find Ashley and check on Andrew.”

  “Settle down,” Sam says, walking into the room still in uniform.

  The nurse looks at Sam then back to me. “He’s in shock. You’ll need to wait to question him,” she says protectively.

  Sam relaxes out of cop mode. “It’s okay, ma’am, I’m a friend of the family. I’m not here to question him, just thought I’d wait with him until his mom gets here,” he explains, and that seems to placate the nurse. He looks at me with concern in his eyes. “How ya doing, bud?”

  “I’m okay,” I say. Sam looks at the nurse for confirmation. He’s seen me shake off too many lacrosse injuries in the past.

  “He has second and third degree burns on his hands and arms, but for the most part he’ll be fine.”

  “See, I’m good. Can you please tell her I need to get out of here so I can find Ashley and check on Andrew?”

  “Andrew’s in surgery right now, Lane. He sustained some pretty serious injuries, and I’m not gonna lie, it’s touch and go.” Sam puts his hand on my shoulder avoiding my dressings as my heart drops into my stomach and my head drops to my chest. “Thankfully for him, you were able to get him out of the car. Otherwise, I’m not sure he would have survived the fire, let alone his injuries.”

  Andrew’s lifeless body flashes in my mind and I have to bite back bile. Thanks to me? If it weren’t for me Andrew wouldn’t be hurt in the first place.

  I toss the blanket off and get to my feet. “I have to find her. I have to find Ashley.” I stare at Sam, silently begging him to help.

  Sam looks at the nurse. “Ma’am?”

  The nurse looks me over then eventually nods. “He can go.” She hands me a piece of paper with instructions on how to care for my burns and a small paper bag full of tubes of burn cream, gauze, tape and a prescription for pain killers. “But make sure to watch for any latent signs of shock for the next few hours,” she says to Sam before returning to the task of filling out my chart.

  “Will do. Thank you, ma’am.” I should thank her too, but the only thing I can focus on is finding Ashley.

  I follow Sam out of the room, down a number of long corridors, up a flight of stairs and then into a large sitting area just off a busy hallway in the ICU.

  “Where is she?” I ask, looking around the empty room, but just as the words come out of my mouth, a door to the right of me opens, and Ashley steps out.

  Her face is blotchy under the harsh florescent lights and her eyes are red and swollen from crying. She looks up as she shuts the door quietly behind her, but she doesn’t seem to recognize me. She just stands, motionless, staring at me like I’m a stranger.

  She must be in shock too.

  “Baby,” I say, cautiously walking towards her. “Baby, are you okay?”

  She says nothing, just stares through me as I reach out and wrap my arms around her. I place a kiss on her forehead, breathing in her scent like it’s an antidote that will heal my wounds and Andrew’s too.

  Her body goes rigid in my arms for a split second, then with more force than I thought she was capable of, she jams her hands against my ribs and shoves me so hard I stumble backwards.

  “Do. Not. Touch. Me.”

  I stare at her and can’t understand what’s happening. Her lithe body trembles as she positions her hands in front of her defensively. Maybe the nurse is right; I’m still in shock and it’s making me confused.

  I hold my hands up. “Ash, it’s just me,” I say, taking a step forward, her eyes narrowed on me like I’m a threat.

  “Don’t.”

  My heart thrashes against my ribcage. “Baby, please.” I take another tentative step forward until she’s so close I can feel her breath wash over me. I place my hands on her arms then softly rub them up and down, hoping the warmth of my touch with ease her frayed nerves and stop her trembling, like the warm blanket had done for me.

  “I said don’t touch me. Don’t even come near me,” she yells, her eyes filling with tears.

  I stumble again, this time her words knock me back. “What?” I ask at the revulsion I hear in her voice. Now I’m in shock.

  “This is all your fault. Andrew’s in surgery and the doctors aren’t even sure if he’s going to make it,” she screams.

  “What do you mean… my fault?” I stammer, the words catching in my throat.

  “Everything. Everything is your fault. If it weren’t for you, Andrew wouldn’t be here at all.” She steps forward and shoves me again. “You did this. You did this to him,” she cries. “Every single choice you made this summer brought us here, to right now. And now my brother is struggling to stay alive because of you. Don’t you see?” Ashley shouts, tears streaming down her cheeks as she buries her face in her hands.

  Her words crash against me so hard that it might as well have been me in the accident.

  “Ashley, what’s going on out here?” her father asks, stepping out of the room she just came from, his shoulders tight and his skin pale. When Mr. Whitmore sees me there’s no hiding the fury in his bloodshot eyes. “You!” He points his finger at me, spittle flying as he yells. “Can’t you just leave our family alone?” He wraps his arms around Ashley’s shaking body, never taking his eyes off of me. “Haven’t you done enough?” he says, his voice breaking on the last word, like he’s on the verge of tears. He shakes his head then turns and guides her back into the private room shutting the door behind them.

  Unconsciously I take a step toward the door, needing to follow her, to make this right, but Sam grabs my shoulder stopping me.

  “Let them be,” he says quietly.

  “But I need…” I start, but can’t finish, the words unable to form around the lump in my throat. I rake my hands through my hair and stare at the closed door, knowing Ashley’s on the other side hurting and I’m to blame. I feel actual pain pierce my heart, and I can’t take in a full breath, no matter how hard I try.

  “Come on, you don’t look so good. I’m gonna take you home,” Sam says from behind me, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  I shut my eyes as my shoulder slips out of Sam’s grip. My legs buckle under the weight of Ashley’s words, causing my knees to hit the hard tile floor with a sickening crack. I bury my head in my hands and sob silently on the ground.

  She’s right. This is all my fault and I’ve lost her.

  Chapter 28

  Ashley

  Hot tears run down my face, but I’m alone, so I let them come. “Andrew, I need you to wake up. Please,” I beg. “It’s my birthday and I can’t celebrate without you.”

  I search for signs of movement or understanding, but just like every other time in the last two weeks that I’ve pleaded with him to wake up, I’m met only with the steady beep of machines as he continues to lay comatose in his hospital bed.

  “I don’t know what to do, Andrew, and I need you. I need my big brother,” I say like he’s wide awake. It’s how I’ve talked to him since the accident, hoping he’ll suddenly wake up and join the conversation. He hasn’t. Yet.

  “Andrew, I need you to wake up and explain to me how you got into this whole mess in the first place. Explain to me how you ended up racing Gregory. He says it was supposed to be a race between him and Lane, but Lane somehow forced it off on you. Explain to me how that happened. Wake up and explain to me what in the hell was so important that it’s worth you lying in this bed for? Wake up and tell me right now. Wake up.” I lay my head down and sob against Andrew’s arm, clutching his hand in mine. “Please, Andrew, wake up and explain it to me. Please.”

  The unexpected sound of the door opening startles me from my pleas. I quickly wipe the tears from my face, expecting to see my parents returning from the cafeteria, but instead a police officer stands in the doorway.

  He nods. “Miss.”

  “Can I help you?” I sniffle.

  “I’m Deputy Paulson, ma’am.” The officer takes his hat off and tucks it under his arm. “I’m
working your brother’s case with Officer Evans. He asked me to stop by and check on Mr. Whitmore’s condition.”

  I look at Andrew, lying motionless in the bed, then back to the deputy. “No change. But the swelling has gone down, so the doctors are hopeful he’ll wake soon.” I’m hopeful too.

  “Well, that’s good to hear. I’ll let Officer Evans know. Oh, and I’ve got these to drop off,” he says, handing me a clear plastic bag. Inside is Andrew’s wallet and phone, a set of car keys and a brown paper sack that’s burned on the edge, revealing the corner of a book. “These are the personal effects found at the scene. Nothing we need to keep for evidence.”

  “Evidence?” I question.

  “Yes, ma’am. Since we haven’t been able to speak with your brother and there are no eye witnesses when the accident happened, we had to open an investigation into whether it was an accident or if there was foul play involved. Not to worry, miss, it’s standard practice.”

  I clutch the bag against my chest. “Of course. And thank you for dropping his things off. I’ll be sure to have my parents call the station as soon as Andrew wakes up.”

  “That’d be great, thank you, ma’am,” the deputy says before stepping out of the room and shutting the door quietly behind him.

  When I open the bag, the overwhelming smell of smoke assaults my senses, causing me to relive the moment the paramedics put Andrew’s lifeless body in the ambulance. The memory makes me nauseous.

  I set Andrew’s wallet and phone aside then pull out the brown paper bag, removing the old book from the charred sack. The Twelve Dancing Princesses. I flip the book over and then back again. Why would Andrew have this?

  I glance in the paper sack and find a birthday card covered in pink balloons and a small receipt. Books and Biscotti. The coffee shop Lane told me he waited at during my audition. This isn’t Andrew’s book, it’s Lane’s. As I turn the book around in my shaking hands, fresh tears pool in my eyes, I know it’s not Lane’s either. It’s mine, for my birthday, and he bought it on our trip.