051. Unkept Promises
I pace while I wait for the ambulance to arrive.
Spencer's conscious—that's a good thing. Nathan's forced open the passenger side door and keeps an eye on him, making sure he doesn't pass out. There's a lot of blood, but I'm pretty sure it's originating from a single wound.
I walk back and forth, back and forth, from one side of the lane to the other. My driver is still parked, waiting. He's agreed to drive Nathan and me to the hospital once Spencer's ambulance arrives.
Sirens in the distance. I rub my temples and dare a glance back at Spencer and Nathan, and the totaled car. They're both lucky—so lucky. It looks like a collision that could've killed.
I'm worried about Spencer. He's gotten on my nerves lately, but at the end of the day he's one of my best friends. Relationship or not, he's there for me and I'm there for him. What if things had ended differently? What if our last words to each other had been full of hate and disgust?
The ambulance is here, and the EMTs put Spencer on a stretcher. He lifts his head, looking around wildly, and one of the nurses eases it back down. His eyes lock on mine, and my stomach drops.
"Come on," says Nathan. Suddenly he's beside me, his hand on my shoulder. "Let's head to the hospital."
We leave the car in the ditch and walk back to the silver van. I kick pebbles, scraping my feet against the scratchy pavement. Nathan's talking about tow trucks and calling the rest of the gang to meet us at the hospital, but I don't listen.
"What happened?" I ask him once we're on our way to the hospital. "You were driving super weird before you crashed."
He cracks his knuckles one by one. "Something was wrong with my brakes. They kept sticking. When I went around that curve I couldn't slow down and the car spun out of control."
"That was Liam's car, right? He took it in for maintenance before we went on vacation. Allison wanted him to, so we made sure it was good to make the long drive down here."
"Yeah, it was Liam's. I feel awful. He loves that car." Our driver merges on the interstate, and Nathan angles his head to look out the window. The ambulance is long gone, far ahead of us. "I don't know about the maintenance, though. Something was clearly wrong."
"Hm."
My phone is blowing up. I unlock it and scan the texts, most of them from Brynn, all of them concerned about Spencer.
Liam told me he got in a car crash!! she typed. Is he ok? We're on our way to the hospital now.
He'll be fine, I reply. Right? After all, he was talking and breathing before the ambulance came. I'm sure it isn't anything too major.
Part of me wonders if that's my guilt talking. I don't want anything to be wrong. It would be my fault then—my fault that Spencer and I didn't drive back together, that I lured him out for this "nice" dinner in the first place. All my fault.
My jaw hurts from clenching it so hard, a painful nervous habit. I jiggle my knee instead and watch the scenery as our driver pulls off at the next exit.
"Here we are," he says, pulling up at the curb of Arrivals. "I hope your friend's okay. You should probably get checked out too, kid."
Nathan nods and claps his shoulder. "Thanks, man."
I offer a tight smile and hop out onto the pavement. Suddenly, I can't breathe very well.
The rest of the group meets us in the waiting room, since we aren't allowed to go in to see Spencer yet. Nathan's checked himself in to make sure he doesn't have a minor concussion, so I'm left to fill everybody in. We sit in various chairs, flipping mindlessly through trashy celebrity magazines and walking back and forth from the coffee machine. I feel on edge—I hate hospitals. They always mean death and devastation and unhappy thoughts.
"You know, babies are born in hospitals," says Liam when I mention this. "They're not always bad."
"Well I've never experienced that. All I've seen come out of these buildings are bad things."
He snorts. "You were there for your own birth. Obviously."
Usually I'd laugh, but today I'm not in the mood. I flick to the next page of my magazine and set in on an article about a messy divorce. It's easier than dealing with everything urgent pressing into my mind.
But I can't focus. A second later I've thrown the magazine back on the table. "Who drove Liam's car last?" I ask.
"Before tonight?" asks Liam. "I gave it to Cassidy yesterday to run to the convenience store."
Cassidy nods. "Why?"
"Well why didn't you take your Jeep to the store?"
She blinks, caught off guard. "Am I being questioned?"
"Something was wrong with Liam's car. That's why he and Nathan crashed." My hands are desperate for something to do. I toy with the unfastened lid of Brynn's coffee cup, snapping the buttons. It feels satisfying, like playing with bubble wrap.
"Do you know what was wrong with it?" asks Cassidy. "I didn't have any issues yesterday."
"Something about the brakes. Nathan said they were sticky."
"I don't know."
"Anyone else?" I glance around our loose huddle.
I don't know what I'm looking for. A confession? To what? This accident was just that—an accident. A car that malfunctioned, went out of control. Spencer and Nathan are lucky to be alive. I shouldn't be turning on my friends.
"So was there a lot of blood?" asks Celia, setting down her magazine. "Like, was it really gory?"
"Celia!" admonishes Allison.
But Celia looks angelic as always. "I'm just saying! I mean, we know Spencer and Nathan are gonna be all right. It's not insensitive. It was just a question."
I purse my lips. "Yeah, there was some blood. Spencer hit his head. He was still conscious, though."
I'm just repeating facts now, because they're the only things I know for sure. I don't know who caused the crash or what's going to happen between me and Spencer once he's released. Not even what'll happen to Liam's car.
I've circled back again, to worrying about a culprit in the collision. There isn't one. I'm still so paranoid—it's aftermath from Aquino High. Maybe I'll be paranoid for the rest of my life.
A nurse approaches us, stopping in front of me. "You can go in to see Spencer now. In small groups, please. Don't crowd. Nathan is just getting his vitals checked and he'll be released. We're asking that Spencer stay the night."
"Is he gonna be okay?" asks Taylor. I'm shocked that he'd chosen to tag along, and even more shocked that he pipes up now. Is it all an act to get on our good side? Is he only acting concerned? Or is there a tiny part of him, deep down, that still cares about us?
"He'll be fine," says the nurse. She brushes back her curly dark hair. "He's lost some blood, but he can head home in the morning."
I split from the group to go see him. Liam and Brynn follow—everyone else stays behind to visit later. The three of us are probably his closest friends, but we pale in comparison to what he and Taylor used to be. They'd been brothers.
How much had it hurt Spencer when Taylor turned on him? I'd never really asked. I'd been too concerned with how the drama affected me.
The nurse leads us down a narrow hallway and cracks open a door, gesturing for us to step inside. I slip through the tiny space and Liam and Brynn follow. It isn't the nicest or the biggest hospital—we have to stand close together in the room just to get the door shut—but it services a small town.
"Hey bud," Liam says, crossing his arms. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Spencer's awake, but he looks drowsy. Either the doctor put him on some type of meds or the ordeal exhausted him. Maybe both. "Thanks for coming. You didn't have to."
"No problem," says Brynn. "Everyone else is out in the waiting room. They wouldn't let us all come in at once."
He nods languidly. His eyes slip from Liam to Brynn and then settle on me, observing. He looks mildly surprised to see me here.
"What did the doctor say is wrong with you?" I ask. It's better than lingering on what happened less than an hour ago.
"Hit my head pretty hard. Had to get some stitches. Other than that I just have a few bruises. How's Nathan?"
"Not a scrape that I saw," I say. "He's getting checked up now just in case."
I don't know what else to say. I feel awkward in here, like I don't have the right to stand next to him and act concerned. Liam and Brynn and everyone else are still part of some exclusive club—the Spencer still likes me club. I'm not a member anymore.
"I'm gonna head back out to the waiting room," I say, backing towards the door. "I'm glad you're okay, Spencer. I'll send someone else in."
He nods again, but his eyes don't find me this time. They're focused on something Liam says. His lips part and he lets out a short laugh, and that's all I hear because I'm back out in the hallway and shut the door behind me.
Allison and Cassidy go to see Spencer next. That leaves me in the waiting room with Celia and Taylor. My two favorite people. The we don't care club.
"I'd like to go in to see Spencer, but I don't think he wants to see me," says Celia apologetically. She readjusts her teal headband, which compliments her baby blue eyes. "I don't want to cause any trouble—not when he's still trying to recover."
"I'm sure he appreciates that," I say.
"Same with me," pipes up Taylor. "Hopefully he'll just be happy we showed up at all."
"I don't think he'll care that much."
"Okay, harsh," says Celia.
I want to go back to the beach house so bad. I'm over dealing with people for the night. Spencer's okay—that's all the information I need to stop worrying, go take a hot shower, and lay in bed watching some TV. No more petty arguments, no more words with a million subtexts.
But I'm trapped here. We only have one car to drive now and I don't feel like ordering another driver. Plus, if I'm the only one gone it'll make me look so bad. Even worse than Taylor and Celia.
"Ugh, when do you think everyone'll be ready to leave?" demands Celia. "I'm so ready to go home. I'm over this."
That had always been my favorite thing about Celia. I could count on her to say all the horrible things I'd never have the guts to say.
"Probably soon," Taylor says.
"I hate hospitals. They smell like that gross cleaning stuff—what is it? We had to use it in chem class, didn't we? And there's so many old people. And everyone in here is so dull and panicked. It's a crappy aura. It just soaks the life out of you, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess." Taylor has joined me in looking like he couldn't care less about what she has to say anymore. He doesn't even feign interest. "Why don't you sit and read another magazine and shut up while you wait for everyone else?"
She pouts, fanning out her lips, but does as he says. I go sit down in a chair across from them, rearranging my legs to try to keep the scratchy fabric away from my bare skin. It's horribly uncomfortable. I feel bad for the people who have to wait for hours hear, waiting for news about loved ones.
Across the room, Celia sets down her magazine and leans over to say something to Taylor. His forehead wrinkles—he's thinking. Then he leans back towards her and snaps something back. I watch, fascinated, as the harsh exchange escalates. Taylor tries to stand, but she snakes out a hand and drags him back.
They go back and forth for ages. Taylor's usually tanned face is pale as a ghost, and his lips are thin. He's gone from angry to defensive to disturbed in a matter of minutes. Whatever Celia had to say, it really got to him.
"No." He says it loudly—loudly enough that I can hear.
Celia descends into another crazed flurry of whispers. He crosses his arms, stubborn. Refusing to agree with whatever she's saying. But then she's back in his ear, whispering again. And then he nods.
Should I be worried? I'm so worried. Scared, actually. I tell myself it can't be anything major. They wouldn't plot right in front of me. But then why the secrecy, the disagreement? It doesn't seem right.
Nothing tonight has felt right. Starting with my dinner with Spencer, and ending in this stuffy hospital room.
It's fifteen more minutes before our friends return, with Nathan in tow. Cassidy's clinging to him like she's scared to ever let him go again. They're all talking boisterously and enthusiastically enough that I know everything is still okay with Spencer.
"Ready to head home?" asks Allison.
I nod, but Brynn pulls me aside. "Do you want a moment alone with Spencer?" she asks. "You didn't get a lot of time with him."
Liam clears his throat uncomfortably.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"Well you are his girlfriend. Don't you want to talk to him some more? We'll wait—we don't mind."
Everyone else is watching, waiting for my reply. Cassidy and Nathan look just as put off as me. "Actually, Spencer and I broke up today," I say, watching Brynn's face change from concern to realization. "Over dinner today. It was pretty messy."
"That explains why you chose to camp out in the lobby with us for so long," says Celia. "Sweetie, I'm so sorry. Breakups can be rough."
"Save it, Celia."
Brynn loops her arm through mine, leading me at the front of the pack towards the elevators. "I'm glad you finally did it," she says. "Even though it was probably really painful. You're two of my closest friends and the longer the relationship went on, the more you were both going to suffer. Better to end it now than self-destruct later."
"Yeah, you're right." How long had she—and the rest of my friends—seen this coming? Since we first got back together this spring? Since before then? Since last summer, when our relationship kicked off? And if so, why had nobody warned me sooner?
"Did he seem mad when you talked to him?" I ask. "I know it's probably hard to tell since he just got stitches and he's probably in pain, but did he mention me?"
She shakes her head and jabs the down button on the elevator. "Not at all. Sorry."
"It's fine. It's probably better that way."
The eight of us crowd together on the elevator, but it still feels empty without Spencer. He'd kind of been the glue that held our group together. Before Liam and I were close, he'd connected the guys' clique with the girls'. He and Brynn, who'd been super close friends in middle school, had put us all together in the first place. It feels weird without one of the founding members.
Eight people in Cassidy's Jeep is impossible. In the parking lot, we rearrange ourselves five or six different ways before we give up and call a car. I don't know how seven of them managed to fit on the drive over. Luckily, Nathan, Brynn, and I are the three lucky passengers Cassidy chooses.
We get home way before the other group. The house is dark and dead and quiet when I step inside and switch on the living room lights. I've never walked in here with it empty before. There's always footsteps on the laminate, people shouting across rooms at each other, laughter and music and the smell of food cooking in the kitchen. Now it's just a shell.
"I'm going to take a shower," says Nathan, kicking off his shoes. Cassidy and Brynn go into the kitchen to make a snack, shooting me an inviting glance. I don't want to go with them, but I don't know what else to do, either. I feel useless. Hollow. Actually, I don't know what to feel at all.
I slump against the wall. Water runs in Nathan's bathroom. Brynn laughs as Cassidy drops something in the kitchen, and Cassidy joins in.
But I just feel empty. Like a Russian nesting doll without the smaller ones inside. Empty, empty, empty.
Suddenly, the hot shower and the TV don't seem so great anymore.