I happily let her take it since I’m looking forward to sharing the back seat with Cole. Not that we’ll do anything; I just feel like being close to him.
We all pile inside and head down the road.
“Where are we headed?” he asks, glancing back at us.
“Wherever. Are you guys hungry for shakes or food, too?”
“I’m starving,” Cole says, slipping his arm around my shoulders.
“Me too,” I admit. “How about Wendy’s?”
A collective yes echoes through the car.
Kelsie turns the radio up, and we all jam out to the song blasting through the speakers.
Gavin stops at a four-way stop, tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Cole moves his arm for a second to adjust his seatbelt and everything seems perfect.
I glance out the window at the setting sun. It was a perfect day. The perfect day to win a race.
Gavin pulls forward then, and no one else sees the car zooming through the stop sign until it’s too late.
Everything is in slow motion.
The sound of screeching metal, shattering glass, and screams fill the air. I don’t know who’s screaming, but it pierces my ears and leaves a ringing there until everything goes still.
Pain radiates through my entire body, especially my neck. I try to move, but can’t. My eyes can’t focus and I can’t get a good breath.
“Cole?” I gasp, trying to take in another breath. My lungs won’t cooperate. They feel like fire, burning me from the inside out. I close my eyes from the pain and focus on breathing in and out as tears stream down my cheeks.
“I’m here, Emmy. Stay with me, okay?”
“I …” My voice trails off. It hurts to talk. To breathe. To move. Everything hurts. “Can’t … breathe …” I try to suck in another breath, and it hurts so bad I think I might pass out.
Sirens wail in the distance and I try to focus on those. Anything that will stop the pain.
They’re getting closer. Help is coming. We’re going to be okay.
“Emmy,” Cole says, again. Louder and more worried.
He says it again and again. I can’t see him. All I hear is his frantic voice, and I can feel his fingers on my face, in my hair.
That’s the only thing I can hold on to when the darkness overtakes me.
CHAPTER 33
I’m here and then I’m there, slipping in and out of consciousness. My mind is all over the place, but my body is stuck in Gavin’s smashed car.
I hear Gavin calling my name this time. Again and again. I strain to open my eyes and see his face. He’s standing outside, leaning in what’s left of my window. Blood trails down his cheek, and his hands are covered in it, as well. I wonder if it’s his blood or mine.
He’s saying something, but I can’t understand him as black dots fill my vision again. He doesn’t reach inside. Doesn’t touch me. I want him to touch me. To tell me I’m going to be okay. That it’s only my imagination that I can’t feel anything below my waist.
I can’t breathe.
“Paramedics are here. You’re going to be okay. They’re going to get you out of there.”
I might be imagining it, but he looks like he’s crying. Tears trail down his cheeks and he doesn’t bother wiping them away.
My brother’s crying? Why? I’m right here. I’m alive. Or am I? I can’t feel my body anymore. It’s like I’m floating. Weightless.
Sitting in my haze, a familiar face keeps filling my thoughts. The person I need most right now. The one who would hold me and tell me I’m going to be okay.
Mom.
I want my mom.
I never told her how much I love her. How sorry I am for staying away.
What if I die, and she’ll only remember a hateful teenager who wasn’t grateful for anything she did? What if I never get the chance to tell her how much she means to me? How afraid I am that she’ll forget me.
Flashing lights reach the corner of my eye, and I feel myself slipping again.
My breathing is ragged. It hurts so much. I just want the pain to stop.
Fingers find mine and someone squeezes my hand.
It’s Cole. I know it is. I can’t turn my head, but I can feel the familiar touch of his hand. The way his fingers intertwine with mine. He’s here. He’s trying to keep me safe. Letting me know he’s near.
I don’t know how long it takes, but the paramedics finally get me out of the car and strap me to a board. I see Cole trying to get to me. He’s hurt. I see the gash on his cheek and smaller cuts pepper his perfect face.
He’s only there a moment and then he’s gone.
I don’t know where Kelsie is. Or Gavin.
Gavin.
Where’s Gavin?
My chest hurts. With every breath, it feels like someone is stabbing me with a knife. Tears slip down my cheeks and wet my hair as they settle in my scalp.
Voices enter my consciousness and I try to make sense of what they’re saying.
“Collapsed lung … spinal cord … stitches …” They blur together after that.
The ambulance ride is a blur. I try to move, but can’t. Everything’s foggy. I try to suck in a breath again, but my lungs feel weighed down by something.
“It’s okay, Emmy. We’re almost to the hospital,” says a voice I don’t recognize.
Where’s Gavin?
I picture him bleeding on the side of the road. No one able to help him. But then I remember the car hit my side. My door. He’s probably fine.
The ambulance stops, and I’m wheeled out on a stretcher and rushed into the emergency room.
More faces. I don’t recognize any except the paramedic from the ambulance.
Everyone is calm, but the panicked expressions in their eyes when they look me over give them away.
I want Mom.
They ask me questions, but my brain isn’t working. All I can do is lay and watch as they put a needle in my arm. I don’t even feel it.
My breathing isn’t getting any better, and before I know what’s happening, a doctor shoves a needle into my chest. It’s attached to a tube. The pain is so intense that I scream. It echoes off the white walls and the nurses try to calm me down as I try to get away from them. Anything to get rid of the pain.
“It’s okay, Emmy,” someone says.
A strange feeling rushes through me as the meds kick in.
The last thing I see is doctors and nurses with masks waiting for me to fall asleep.
CHAPTER 34
The white hallway seems to go on forever as I walk, a piece of paper tight in my hand. I pass a nurse’s station, an elevator, and plenty of rooms, but I don’t stop until I reach room 205.
I stand outside to put my emotions in check. Thoughts of what I’m going to say swirl around my mind, and I take a breath to prepare myself before I open the door. My hand seems to raise on its own and I knock.
Several beats later, the door opens.
Lucas’s mother stares back at me, her face drawn, haggard, and lacking sleep. “Emmy.” She smiles. “Come in. He’s been waiting for you.” She gestures around the curtain, blocking the room from view. “I’m going to get some lunch, so I’ll be back in a little bit.”
The door shuts behind her and I stand on the other side of the curtain, getting myself ready to see him.
“Emmy?”
Lucas’s voice drifts toward me and I only hesitate a second before I push past the curtain.
I know I’m dreaming, but the sight of him still makes my stomach drop.
He looks so different. An IV pumps into his hand. It looks like a child’s hand. Small, bony, and pale. He’s so pale. I don’t know what to say, so I take a seat near his bed, trying to avoid looking too close at him. I don’t want to remember him this way. So … fragile.
He reaches his hand out to take mine, and I look up at him. He may look sick and miserable, but his eyes are blue, bright, and alive. “Thanks for coming,” he says. “Hopefully none of the nurses gave you a hard tim
e.”
“Why would they do that?”
He shrugs. “They can’t keep their hands off me.” He chuckles and squeezes my hand.
“Oh.” I gaze at his frail body. Even though he looks so different, like half of himself disappeared, he’s still Lucas. My Lucas. The boy I’ve been in love with for years. He’s still the same. Still trying to make me laugh. I think about all we’ve been through. The late-night talks in his backyard, the drives through the canyon admiring the changing leaves in the fall. The way he talked to me at school, even when he had a girlfriend and never treated me any differently. I can’t let that go. I don’t want to let him go.
He studies me, his right eyebrow lowering a fraction. “What’s wrong, Em? You’re too quiet.”
“Oh, nothing. I’m okay.”
“You sure? You’re not in trouble or anything, right? If your parents didn’t want you to come, you could have said no.”
I shake my head and let out the breath I’m holding. “They told me you wanted to see me. They said …” I pause and say the words, even though they almost break me. “You’re dying.”
“I did want to see you.” He gives me a sad smile. “And yes. I’m dying.”
It hangs in the air, and I have to tell myself to keep breathing. In and out. In and out. I need to stay calm. I knew this was coming, but it still hurts. It’s not fair.
“Em,” he says.
His voice draws me out of my thoughts, and I jump, making myself focus on him again. “Yeah?”
“I wanted you to come see me one last time. Before …” He swallows and shakes his head. “Let’s not talk about that right now. The reason I asked you here is because I needed to tell you something.”
I glance up, meeting his eyes. “Okay?”
He doesn’t skip a beat, just presses on. “I’m in love with you, Emmy.”
My heart speeds up, and my breath whooshes out of my lungs. My mouth drops open, and I close it again, not knowing what to say.
He laughs, though it sounds forced. “I’ve practiced saying that to you for … years really. I’m days away from dying, and I wasn’t man enough to say it before.” He lets go of my hand and reaches up to touch my cheek. “I’ve loved you since you first moved in next door. All those years ago.” His voice catches, and I cover his hand with mine. “I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you.”
A tear slips down my cheek, running a trail to our fingers. “I love you, too,” I whisper.
I memorize his face, knowing it’s probably the last time I’ll see him alive. His deep blue eyes are burned into my mind. His smile, teasing and playful—though gone now, I can still see it.
“Take care of my sister for me, okay?”
“Okay,” I promise, though I broke it long ago.
He leans back on his pillow, his eyes never leaving mine. “I wish things were different. I wish we had more time.” He smiles, his eyes swimming with tears as I hold on to his hand like a lifeline. “That’s all I want. More time. To take you on a real date. To hold your hand while we walk down the street together.” He sighs as tears prick my eyes. “I’m an idiot for not telling you sooner.”
“You’re not.”
He ignores me and pulls my hand to his lips. “Thank you, Em. For always being there, even when I didn’t deserve it.” His body fades before my eyes, and I know my memory has come to an end.
Don’t go. Please. Not yet.
The room starts to disappear, taking Lucas away from me all over again. I start to panic. I don’t want him to leave. I need more time. Time to say all the things I meant to say that day.
But time never stops. It just keeps going and going, not caring who it leaves behind.
And at that moment, I despise it.
CHAPTER 35
There’s no way to fix time. To warn yourself about an impending accident. To push the brakes a little bit quicker.
If there was a way to go back, I would. But there isn’t. Time just keeps moving slowly forward whether I want it to or not. It’s a constant, never-changing thing that will never ever go away no matter how hard you wish it.
My head feels heavy. Like I’m swimming through a suffocating fog. Thoughts of Lucas fill my head, and I try not to cry as I think of the memory I was lost in for a while.
When my eyes finally open, I blink a few times before I notice I’m lying in a hospital room. I blink again and memories of the accident flood my brain.
Then the pain hits, and it takes everything in me not to call the nurses station and ask for more pain meds. I’m sure they’ve already given me plenty.
The room is pretty dark so I know it’s late.
Someone snores quietly to my right, and I try to turn my head, but I can’t. It’s in a brace or something.
It doesn’t matter though; I’d recognize that snore anywhere.
Dad. I don’t want to wake him. I’m sure I’ve put him through enough tonight.
I lift my hand, frowning at the IV in it. I follow the little tube until it reaches the bag of fluid on a pole next to the bed.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I’ve never been a fan of needles, and now one’s taped to my hand. But honestly, that’s the least of my problems.
I take a moment to access my injuries. My chest kills every time I breathe, but it’s nothing like the pain in the ambulance. I’m guessing they blew my lung back up, but it still feels like it’s on fire. My head hurts. I reach my hand up and feel a bandage near my temple. Stitches again, I’m guessing.
A monitor beeps next to me. I want to move. Change positions. Anything. But as I try to shift and get in a more comfortable position, I remember my legs. They tingle. Like they’re asleep and trying to wake up.
I try to wiggle my toes, but fail. My foot. Nothing.
No. Please. I can’t be paralyzed.
Nothing but tingling.
My eyes water, and I put a hand to my mouth to try to stop the sob that escapes anyway.
Someone’s foot hits the floor, and as my eyes adjust to the dark, I see Dad’s outline as he comes to my side. He doesn’t say a word, just wraps his arms around me and holds me while more sobs wrack my body. The pain from his embrace is easy to ignore.
I can’t get a hold of myself.
I don’t know how long Dad sits with me. Long enough to soak his shirt and clog my sinuses. He hands me a tissue, and I wipe my eyes and nose. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head as best as I can. No. I’m not okay. Can’t you see I’m never going to be okay again?
“We’re gonna get through this, okay, Bug? You’re going to be fine. I promise.”
I close my eyes. He shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep. I can’t be positive right now. My whole life has been torn to pieces because of a stupid bike race. If I hadn’t won, I wouldn’t be here now. I’d be sulking in my bedroom. Letting Cole kiss me to cheer me up. I’d be okay.
“Where’s Mom?” My voice is hoarse, and I clear my throat.
“She’s home. She’ll be here in the morning when you go in for your surgery.”
“Surgery?”
“Honey, you have a collapsed lung and a spinal cord injury. They’re not sure how serious yet, since the swelling is bad and they can’t tell everything, but …” He trails off and clears his throat before continuing. “They’re going to try and fix it, but these injuries take time to heal.”
“I already know it’s bad, Dad. I can’t move my legs.” Tingling. Just tingling.
He sighs and the pain I see on his face makes me want to cry all over again. “I know.”
“Will I walk again?”
“They don’t know. Like I said. These injuries take time to heal. I don’t think …” He trails off. “Maybe you should get some sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
“I want to know. Tell me.”
“Are you sure?”
I ignore the question. “What will the surgery do?”
“I don’t know all the details, besides fixing your lung, of cou
rse. Once the surgery is over, and you’ve recovered well enough, we’ll start physical therapy.”
“So I could walk again? Maybe?”
He squeezes my hand. “Maybe. Sometimes your spinal cord is in shock after you get in an accident like this. If the swelling goes down quickly, they can tell a bit more about how damaged it may be. But it may not be broken at all. Things might be okay. It could go either way, honestly.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and tears slide down my cheeks. “I never should have started mountain biking. None of this would have happened.”
“Honey. You love biking. Accidents happen. And it wasn’t even biking that did this to you. The driver who hit you ran a stop sign. It wasn’t your fault or Gavin’s at all.”
Gavin. “Where is he?”
He hesitates. “He’s … having a hard time. Mom went home with him. I’m sure he’ll be right back here tomorrow.”
“Is he okay?”
He nods. “A few stitches, but nothing major.”
“Cole and Kelsie?”
“Kelsie has a broken collar bone and Cole has some bumps and bruises, but otherwise, they’re fine. It’s a miracle you weren’t killed.”
“I’m glad they’re okay.”
A miracle I wasn’t killed. But what about my legs? They weren’t saved. Why did it have to happen to me?
I regret my thoughts as soon as I think them. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone else.
My mind wanders to all the things I won’t be able to do anymore.
Walking.
Running.
Biking.
I bite my lip to keep from crying again.
“It’s okay, Bug. You can cry. It’s okay to cry.”
“I know,” I squeak.
“Bad things happen sometimes. We don’t know why, but they do. I know you’ll pull through this, and you’ll be okay. You’re strong.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I stare at the ceiling and don’t say anything else. Dad pats my hand and gives it a kiss. “I’ll let you get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.” He moves away, and I hear him get comfortable on the couch again.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
Switching Gears Page 19
