To my fortune, I make a pretty far distance on my crutches down the street before the street lights even change to yellow. And by that time, I don't think Niall was waiting for it to go red any longer.
I am only about six blocks from my apartment, which I would easily be able to get to any other day. But the crutches are doing quite some damage to my arm pits and hands. I don't even know how to correctly use them, so that is probably why.
Plus, it doesn't help that less than 24 hours ago, a truck going 70 miles an hour hit the side of my car that I was driving.
I make my way to sit on a bench, and reach for my phone, but then realize I don't have pockets. Or my phone.
I mutter a curse to myself. Niall has my phone. Along with my keys, and whatever possessions that weren't completely destroyed with my car in the crash.
I look around the street as people give me strange looks. I guess it isn't everyday you see a hospital patient distressed, crutching down the street. Especially looking the way I do.
There is a telephone I could use, but I don't have any money to insert for a call to Morgan.
I force myself up and go over to it anyways.
I try to dial her number a few times but it just tells me I constantly need money. I slam the phone back into the box out of anger.
"Piece of shit phone. You don't do shit."
"Allyson?" a strangely familiar voice sounds from behind me.
I sigh, not wanting to talk to anyone. I don't even care who it is, Ed Sheeran or Beyonce, I'm not in the mood. But I turn to face the speaker anyways.
In the blurr of turning, I see the blonde hair, but yet again my eyes are decieved.
"Oh-hey Kevin," I greet him.
"What are you doing here? Why are you dressed in a hospital gown? Are you alright? Oh my go-look at you! What the hell happened?" he questions, gesturing to my bruises. I can see his focus on the large mark under my eye. It's the one that I noticed right away.
"I just got in a car crash, I guess," I tell him, lacking any emotion in my words.
"You guess?" I nod in response.
"What am I gonna do with you Allyson..." he sighs, taking the sight of me in for good this time. I am a mess right now. I didn't even realize the extent. But I guess it's pretty horrific.
"You don't have to do anything," I tell him, looking down the street for an excuse I can make to get out of this situation.
"Where are you even going? Are you by yourself? Where's Morgan?"
"Why do you ask so many questions," I groan, not caring if I am acting rude or not. I am clearly not in the mood for talking to anyone, what does he not understand?
"I'm going home, and obviously I'm alone does it look like I am with anyone? Maybe my imaginary friend Rob but that's it. And Morgan's with Ha-" I shut my mouth, not knowing if this whole thing should be a secret; knowing the members of the famous boy band. Either way, I play it safe. "Hagrid."
"Hagrid? From Harry Potter?" his eyebrows furrow.
"Uh-yeah. His real name is Hamlet but we call him Hagrid because he's a big guy. Not fat, just big. Football player. He's like eight foot something. Anyways, I should get going," my excuse is a crappy one at that, but it was a close call.
"Okay then...I'll give you a ride back," he tells me, and it's more of a demand than an offer.
"It's alright, I need the exercise anyways," I want to catch a ride more than anything, but I don't feel like sitting in the car alone with him either. And it isn't a total lie-I do need to exercise. I am completely out of shape.
"Allyson it's far from here. My car's parked literally like twenty feet away. C'mon," he beckons and I sigh and give in, following him to his fancy car.
He opens the door for me, and it takes me a little longer than expected to get in. The boot on my broken foot takes up a lot of space in the small area that it can fit in.
He jogs over to the drivers side, and once the car is running he pulls away and off we are.
"So, when did this car crash happen?" he asks, keeping his focus on the road. I like that. He's smart, aware and intelligent.
"Last night," I answer.
"After I left?"
I nod.
I look out the window and see a couple drinking hot chocolate outside of a cute little cafe. She wears a baggy sweater and cashmere scarf, while he is also in a sweater and jeans. The sight makes me happy, but also very jealous. I force myself to look away before the envy grows.
"How did it happen? Is your car totalled?"
"I was told that my car is in no way repairable, and I was drunk," I admit. Yes, it's stupid and embarrassing but I'm not going to lie about it.
He only shakes his head.
"So that means you lost your license?" he asks and my eyes widened. No one mentioned the penalties I will receive for this accident. I don't know why I haven't thought about it until now. Or why no one would have brought it up to me. This is serious.
"I-I guess so," I tell him. I don't even know the exact punishments for drunk driving.
"Well, how was the other guy you hit?" he asks and my heart sinks. Because I don't have a clue.
If any real damage or permanent problems would have occurred, they would have most definitely told me, right?
I think back to all of the commercials on television for drunk driving and recall all of the deaths. I pray that the truck driver is almost one hundred percent stable.
"I don't know," I admit. I feel like a horrible person.
"Wait," I quickly state. And it hits me. All of it hits me at once.
"I'm not even legal to be drinking," my head begins to hurt again and I don't know if it's the concussion, a hangover, or stress. Maybe a mix of all three.
"You aren't?" He asks and I shake my head, even though he isn't watching me.
"Well that's unfortunate," he remarks and I roll my eyes. As if I didn't already know.
"I'm no lawyer, but a drunk, under aged girl getting into a car accident has to have quite the consequences," he tells me and my head continuously spins. Or, seems too.
That's all I need. Just more shit to deal with.