Crash Into You (27 page)

Chapter 60
Rachel

I IGNORE ISAIAH’S MESSAGES. I’M
in love with a guy who thinks I’m as weak as my brothers say I am. The sad part is, I almost believed I was strong.

Three knocks on the door and I know it’s Mom. “Come in.”

With her blond hair slicked back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, Mom pops her head in with a glowing smile. “Abby’s here.”

“Abby?” I sit up. Mom fell in love with private school–going, rich Abby. Not that Abby wowed them with her personality as much as Mom is wowed I have a friend. I wonder how much she’ll love her if she discovers my new best friend deals drugs.

Mom widens the door to reveal Abby dressed in her typical black hoodie and painted-on jeans. I start to smile until I notice she won’t meet my gaze. She’s only avoided me once, and that was when Eric revealed her real job.

I slide off the bed and dismiss my mother with one word. “Thanks.”

“Do you girls want anything?” Mom asks as she stands between us. “Food or drinks?”

Abby enters my room and handles a picture of me and my brothers. Her behavior is seriously freaking me out.

“No, thanks,” I say. “But we’ll let you know if we change our minds.”

Mom claps her hands against her legs. “All right then. Oh.” Her eyes brighten. “Abby, would you like to come to a charity event I’m throwing for the Leukemia Foundation on Saturday? It’ll be at The Lakes Country Club. Rachel will be speaking.”

“Sure,” says Abby.

“Great!” Mom rattles out a few details neither Abby nor I catch before excusing herself.

When the door clicks shut, Abby puts the picture down. “Think of a good lie to leave, and think of it fast. Isaiah and Logan are in the hospital.”

Chapter 61
Isaiah

MY HEAD THROBS. A PULSE
that originates from the twelve stitches on my forehead and vibrates my skull. If it weren’t for my head, I’d probably feel the rest of my body. The doctor called me lucky. Lots of bruises. No broken bones. No internal injuries.

I’d feel luckier if someone would tell me about Logan. The bastard...my friend...a lump forms in my throat...I saw blood.

I raise my hand to my head. The tubing of the IV line rubs against my forearm.

“You shouldn’t touch it.”

With the sight of her, my stomach twists to the point that the doctor may have to rethink internal injuries. “I’m not in the fucking mood, Beth.”

A chair scrapes against the floor, causing the pounding in my head to increase. “We could be twins,” she says. “I’ve got a nice-size scar over my eye, too.”

I drop my arm and stare at the girl I had thought I loved since I was fourteen. When I met her, she had straight black hair and an attitude that scared the shit out of bikers. The prickly disposition Beth used to carry as a physical shield no longer drapes her aura. There’s a peacefulness that surrounds her that I never noticed in all our years together.

“You got your scar because you wouldn’t listen,” I say.

Beth flashes her patented sarcastic grin. “Twenty dollars I’ll find out the same thing about you.”

Back in October, I stood in this same hospital waiting to hear if she was alive. Her mother’s boyfriend tried to kill Beth. Her boyfriend, Ryan, saved her. Once I heard she was fine, I left. Beth obviously doesn’t live by the same policy.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Shirley and Dale.”

My foster parents—her aunt and uncle. They stopped in a half hour ago. They were part pissed I interrupted their long weekend at the lake, part pissed that my social worker is now up their ass and even more pissed I hurt myself. Who knew the two of them gave a slight shit.

“How’s Logan?” I ask.

The peacefulness fades from her face. “We don’t know. They took his dad straight back and he hasn’t been out since. No one will tell us a thing. Ryan’s going nuts.”

I place a fist to my forehead. “I’ve fucked it all up. If something’s wrong with him...”

I could never forgive myself.

Beth places a hand over mine and squeezes. “He’s an adrenaline junkie. We all know it. If it wasn’t with you, it would have been with someone else at some other time. At least you were there. At least you could call the police. You can’t fix everything.”

“You don’t know how deep I’m in.”

“No, I don’t. Because we’re not friends anymore.”

“Not the time.”

“I love you, Isaiah. I always have, but I’ve never been
in
love with you. Both of us were so damn fucked in the head that neither of us understood the difference between friendship and love. We’re friends. We always have been. I know you know what I mean because Logan’s told me about Rachel.”

My eyes snap to hers and Beth waves me off. “He never betrayed you. I annoyed the hell out of him until he told me, and all he would say was that you look at Rachel like Ryan looks at me. In all the years we knew each other, you never looked at me like that.”

Beth opens her mouth to continue, but I cut her off. “I know.”

“You do?”

I return Beth’s grip. “You let me take care of you.”

She raises an eyebrow, highlighting the scar above her eye. “So?”

“Rachel doesn’t. She always wants to take care of herself. Drives me crazy.”

Beth laughs. “Then it must be love. I drive Ryan insane.”

There’s an ache that goes deeper than the physical wounds of my skin. “I really did care for you.” Beth’s right—I didn’t love her, at least not in the way I love Rachel, but it doesn’t negate the fact that I had feelings, even if she didn’t return them.

“I know.” She repeats the answer I gave her. “I also know you love her, but is there room for me? Just as what we were good at? As friends?”

Friends with Beth. I assess the small devilish pixie, and it’s one of the first times in my life I’ve seen her desperate for an answer. I rub my hand over my head. This could be really good, or the worst mistake ever. But because Beth’s right again, I nod. She and I were always at our best as friends. “Friends.”

A female clears her throat at the doorway, and Courtney walks into the room. Beth stands. “Noah and Echo are on their way,” Beth says. “And I dropped Abby off at Rachel’s. They should be here soon.”

“Thanks.” Noah’s going to blow a gasket, and I’m not sure Rachel will want to show.

Courtney slips into the seat Beth abandoned. “How are you?”

I motion toward my arm with the IV. “I’ll be better when they spring me.”

“Isaiah...” She inhales deeply and exhales. “What the hell were you doing?”

“How’s Logan?”

Courtney shakes her head so sadly that her ponytail slumps. “I don’t know. I’ll be honest...the longer his dad stays back there, the more anxious I become. He’s got a lot of friends out there, and you’d think his father would want to give them good news.”

I shut my eyes, not allowing Courtney to see the fear there...the weakness.

“The police believe your story, Isaiah. That you tested a nitrous system on an abandoned road and it failed.”

“It’s not a story,” I say. “It’s the truth. Something went wrong and I lost control.”

“Regardless of what happens with Logan, the police won’t press charges. Logan’s father waived away the option of holding you responsible.”

“Yay for fucking me. At least I won’t be in prison like my mom, right?”

My vision blurs for the second time today. This time it’s because of tears. For years, I’ve been fine. But now, emotions are everywhere and I can’t control a damn thing.

“Do you know why I asked to be your social worker?” Courtney asks.

I peer at the blood pressure machine, wishing I could stop feeling. “Why?”

“Because I grew up in foster care, too.”

The heart rate monitor increases speed, and Courtney pretends she doesn’t notice that her bombshell affects me. “Entered at six, just like you. I had the good homes, the bad ones and the group homes. I even have a tattoo from my pissed-off years.”

My chest moves faster as my emotions threaten to consume me. I reach for anger, because it feels better than hurt. “Is that what you think I am? Pissed-off?”

“Oh, Isaiah.” Courtney stares straight into my eyes. “Pissed-off is the easy emotion. Having been in the same
exact
position you’re in...” She flutters her hand at the hospital bed and then grows still. Her mouth attempts to quirk up, but her lower lip trembles. “I’d bet, right now, you’re feeling very alone.”

Alone.

Logan’s got a dad beside him. Me? I’ve got a social worker. I shake my head, fighting the hurt. “What’s wrong with me that nobody wants to keep me?”

Why no one wanted to love me. Right now, I don’t feel badass. I feel seventeen and crave for someone to tell me that my friend will be okay.

Her fingers find mine and I don’t draw away. “Nothing,” she says firmly. “There is
nothing
wrong with you.”

I suck in air, close my eyes and exhale out the emotions. Courtney withdraws her hand, and I’m grateful she doesn’t push me further.

“Can you find out about Logan?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says. “I’ll be back.”

Chapter 62
Rachel

ABBY GRIPS THE PASSENGER DOOR.
“I’m going to be sick.”

“Throw up in my car, and that will be the last thing you ever do.” Spotting the exit for the hospital, I cut over two lanes and shift down. Isaiah’s been teaching me some tricks after school. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be using those skills to race to the hospital to see if he’s alive.

“You were doing ninety and switching lanes like we were being chased by the police.”

“Are you sure he’s here?” Because I’d prefer for Isaiah to be at any of the other hospitals in the county over University. This is where they bring the awful trauma cases.

“Yes.” Abby loosens her hold on the door as we approach the stoplight at the end of the ramp. “Echo told me.”

Isaiah called me and I never called back. My last words to him were in anger. What if he thinks I don’t love him? My fingers beat against the steering wheel, counting how long it takes for the cross light to turn yellow. “Are you sure she said University?”

“Yes.”

“That’s where they take the worst trauma patients.” I admit my fear out loud.

Abby releases a heavy sigh. “It’s also where they take people with no insurance. He’s a foster kid, Rachel, and a line item on the government’s budget. That is where they’d take him. Not the fancy-ass hospital with the flat-screen televisions.”

Like Isaiah taught me, my foot hovers over the gas while my other presses on the clutch. My fingers grasp the gearshift. A solid wall with no windows, a practical fortress, University Hospital looms over us two blocks ahead. I watch the cross light turn yellow, and my eyes flick to my light, waiting for the green.

In one instantaneous movement, I lay off the clutch, step on the gas and shift into gear the second the light flips. Next to me, Abby curses.

* * *

Abby and I run past
the sliding glass doors of the hospital and hesitate. The bland waiting room with beige-painted cinder block walls is cramped with people. Wet coughing hacks, crying babies and the sound of someone vomiting makes me turn my head. In the corner, wearing too many layers of clothes that haven’t been washed, a man hunches over and talks to himself.

Abby nudges my elbow. “Over there.”

My heart soars out of my body when I spot Isaiah. He’s hugging his roommate, Noah. Strong arms wrapped around each other in a brief embrace. They separate, and I cover my mouth when I see the wound on his head, the bruises forming on his face, the blood dried on his clothing.

Stepping forward out of the shadows and touching Isaiah’s arm is one of my many nightmares: Beth. She smiles up at him, and when he smiles back my heart shatters.

Chapter 63
Isaiah

WITH NO CLUE ABOUT LOGAN’S
condition, I walk into the waiting room. Hearing that Noah was on his way, Shirley and Dale left, but told me I could crash in their basement if I needed. After all, the state still pays them for me.

I see red hair and curls first. Echo chokes me. It’s nice to have a sister. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” I glance at Noah from over her head. With his hair hiding his eyes and hands on his hips, I can’t read my best friend. “How’s Noah?” I mutter.

“Scared,” she whispers. “Mad.”

I nod at Noah. “S’up, man.” He embraces me—a strong crush of arms and muscles. We hold it for a second, keep it tight and then let go. The two of us are brothers.

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass,” says Noah. “What were you thinking?”

“Damn, Noah,” says Beth from behind me. “He already has stitches.”

Beth and I used to gang up against Noah all the time. She’s right about us. We were friends first. Always friends. Not understanding a relationship that close, it got muddled.

She flashes a genuine smile and I smile back. Yeah, Beth and I, we can do friends. A few feet behind her and hanging with what I assume is Logan’s entire baseball team, Beth’s guy, Ryan, watches us with his arms folded over his chest. I tip my chin at him to let him know I’m good, and he tilts his head in acceptance. That’ll probably be the longest conversation the two of us ever have.

Noah leans into us so that we form our own circle. “Do you know what he’s been doing?”

Beth shrugs. “He’s always liked to drive fast. Stupidity caught up.”

“Stupidity did catch up, but not in that way.” Noah’s dark eyes snap to mine and he rolls his shoulders back. He’s looking for a fight and my body reacts. My head continues to throb like a bad bass line, but if Noah wants to have it out, we will.

“Say what you gotta say, Noah.”

“Whoa.” Beth places an arm between us. “He just got out of the hospital. This is the first time I’ve been with the two of you in months. You are not ruining this for me by fighting.”

Noah and I stand toe to toe and neither one of us flinch. “Do you want to tell her, Isaiah?”

“Naw, man. It sounds like you’ve got all the answers.”

Keeping his eyes locked on me, Noah drops the bomb. “He owes money to Eric.”

The silence between the three of us builds pressure in my neck.

“How much,” asks Beth in a low tone.

“Enough,” I answer. Too much.

“Why?” she demands. “Why did you street race?”

Noah finally looks away. “Because I told him I was moving into the dorms.”

“Noah!” Beth grabs hold of the arm of his jacket. “What the hell? You promised both of us a year ago that you would never leave us behind.”

“Why are you here?” Noah asks Beth. “You promised you’d stay away from Louisville.”

Beth’s head tilts in her familiar pissed-off way. “Logan’s my friend. So is Isaiah. Explain why you’re bailing on us? You break a promise to him, you break it to me.”

“I kept my promise to you,” says Noah. “Who do you think told Shirley to call your uncle when you got arrested last fall? Do you think the lush figured it out on her own? I reminded her that your Uncle Scott had money and would be able to help with bail. As for Isaiah, I can’t help him if he owes people like Eric.”

Beth pales. “You...you did that to me?”

Noah lowers himself to stare into her eyes. “Don’t stand there acting like I ratted you out. You’re better off and you know it. You’re happy. You’ve told me that yourself.”

Beth clenches her hands together. “But it should have been my choice.”

“Beth...you never saw your choices.” And his eyes flash to me. “And neither do you.”

I gesture with palms open. “Show me my rich uncle, Noah, and I’m game. Wait...my bad...out of the three of us, I’m the only trash here.”

Noah shoves a finger into my chest, daring me into a physical confrontation. “You’re so bent on believing what you want people to see that you forget that you’re more. Keep saying it. Keep saying you’re trash and take the fucking swing at me, but if you do, know I’m hitting back.”

My head is so close to Noah’s that I feel the heat of his anger, or maybe it’s mine.

“You want to fight, man?” I ask. “Is that what you want?”

“No, bro. But I do want to kick some sense into your head.”

Around us, several guys leap to their feet, calling at us to back down. Most of them wear jock jackets like Logan’s. One has the balls to touch me. Ryan, Beth’s guy, has the balls to touch Noah. “Bring it down a notch.”

Beth smacks Ryan’s arm. “Let him go, Ryan.” She turns to the one with his arm on me. “You, too, Chris. This is how the two of them communicate.”

Ryan yanks on the bill of his baseball cap. “This is a fight, Beth.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s a family reunion. A fucked-up one, but how else would we do it.”

Noah cracks his crazy-ass grin with her words and chuckles. I pop the tension out of my neck, and Noah flexes his shoulders to relax. “You should have told me you had problems.”

I shrug. “I got problems.”

Noah pats my back. “Then we’ll figure it out.”

For the first time in a while, the pressure inside of me dips. “Thanks, man.”

The door to the emergency room opens. On crutches, Logan hobbles out of the E.R. with a man who must be his dad by his side. Some of the guys near us clap or yell out Logan’s name.

For the first time since waking up from the crash, I feel like I can take a lungful of air. Logan acknowledges his friends as he and his two poles maneuver through the mass of people. There’s no mistake that he’s making his way to me, Beth, Chris and Ryan.

Chris is the first to speak. “You’re a moron, Junior.”

Logan pops that insane grin. “But it was a hell of a rush.” He nods at me. “You okay?”

“Stitches.”

“Same with me.” He kicks out his right leg. “Twenty-four stitches on my thigh. Nothing broken.” Logan loses the spark. “I’m out for a bit.” He’s referring to helping with the money.

“It’s good,” I say. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t thank me. You still have to fix my ’57 Chevy.”

Logan turns to Ryan and the pair embrace. Beth told me they’d been friends since elementary school. I can only imagine their bond. Beth wraps her arms around me. “Thanks for being my friend again.”

I hug her back. “No problem.”

“Hey, Isaiah,” says Logan. “Wasn’t that Rachel?”