Rogue C45
She settles into the seat and traces a line across my palm, avoiding a sore spot. “You’re thinking about the car. It runs very smoothly, because I know Parker asked Gary to change some thingamajig or add oil or something. And you’re enjoying the way it feels.”
She’s right about that. The car is an old, beautiful Jeep, only used by the kids. I’ve driven it before, but only with Parker, when he’s been too drunk to drive himself after a party. I’ve driven it when I’ve picked up Lily, too, after school. I know where the keys are kept in the garage.
But I’m not supposed to take it out for a spin like this.
“Yes, I did think that. That’s an easy one.”
Lily flicks my thumb. “You’re thinking that you’re going to take Sunday off work to join Parker and me when we go sailing.”
“Good try, Lils.” I glance over at her. She’s smiling, looking mischievous and too cute for her own good. “But you know I have to work.”
“Fine, you’re thinking that you wish you could take Sunday off.”
“All right, then it’s correct. And I can tell what you’re doing, you know. These are obvious thoughts. Is this really the way they do it in Antarctica?”
Lily chuckles. “You’re such a demanding customer.”
I glance at the dashboard. It’s past one in the morning. We’ve been driving for an hour already, and I know I should start heading back. But I don’t want to end this-just her and me, and nothing but complete freedom. It doesn’t matter that it’s only an illusion.
“Very well. You’re thinking about me.” Lily’s voice turns low, the way it does when she’s shy and pushing through, or when she’s trying to seduce me. It usually doesn’t take much.
“You are sitting right next to me. It would be rude if I wasn’t.”
“Idiot. Fine, you’re thinking that I’m the best, the brightest, the most incredible person you’ve ever met. The smartest, the funniest, the most beautiful…”
I pull my hand out of hers. “You’re too good at this. It’s freaky.”
Lily laughs again. The sound tightens something in my chest, the feeling entirely too familiar. She grabs my hand back and presses a kiss to the back. I keep my eyes on the road, tension slowly draining from me. Things will be okay as long as we’re together.
“I love you,” she says softly. “You know that, right?”
My mind goes blank for a moment. Nothing else matters. No one else, nobody that’s not me or her. I want to make this moment last forever. The road is straight and narrow, trees flashing by in the midnight darkness.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org
“I know, Lils.”
She puts my hand back on her thigh, her skin warm and soft. “Good. I just wanted to make sure you did.”
And I need to make sure she knows it’s the same for me. That she’s everything I want-everything I need-but the words won’t form. If I say it, if I make it real, she could be taken from me.
“Lily…” But I can’t finish the sentence. I keep my eyes glued to the road ahead and smooth a circle with my thumb on her skin.
She doesn’t seem to mind my silence.
“I know too, Hayden,” she says gently. “What’s on your mind tonight? You know you can tell me. Or not, if you’d rather keep it to yourself. But I’ll always listen.”
I can’t tell her what her mother and grandmother said. I know I can’t.
And how do I explain my own feelings? She’d protest them right away. I know that.
Lights flash ahead. It’s the first car we’ve met in over an hour.
“Hayden?”
It’s a truck.
And it’s not staying in the right lane. I watch in slow motion as the truck drifts over to my lane, until the lights blind me. A lot of things happen at once, then. I hit the horn. Lily screams and my heart leaps into my throat.
I swerve, tires screech, and then everything goes black.
It’s adrenaline that keeps me going. Things move in flashes, an eternity passing in each heartbeat.
“Lily?” She’s not responding. Her door is smashed, hit by the truck. It’s buckled inwards. Her eyes are closed.
“Lily!”
There’s no response. Her leg… I can’t look at it. Get her out. I need to get her out. I push open my own door, breaking the glass to do so.
And then I pull her out. The car is gone, smoke coming from the engine. Do cars explode? Someone told me they don’t, but I can’t take risks.
I unbuckle her seat belt and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her out. It’s hard to walk with her in my arms and I don’t dare carry her far. Her leg… it looks bad. That runs on repeat in my head. This is bad, this is bad, this is bad.
She still hasn’t opened her eyes. “Lily? Lily.”
No response.
I pat my pockets and fish out my phone.
911 operators.
Beeping noises.
Flashing neon lights.
People in scrubs barking orders.
Accusing eyes and frantic yelling.
I’m next to her in the ambulance the entire way to the hospital. The ambulance staff made me lie down, but I can see well enough what they do. They stem the bleeding, but I can’t be sure if it was fast enough. So much of her pretty dress is soaked through with the most garish red. Too much. It’s too much.
She’s unconscious, but I repeat her name anyway, just in case. “Lily. Lily. Lily.”
“Lie down,” they tell me. I hear terms like cracked ribs and fractured femur, but the words don’t mean anything to me. I don’t feel any pain.
They roll her away from me as soon as we arrive in the emergency room, taking her to surgery. I’ll never forget that, the long, barren corridor and her small frame on the hospital bed. A man pushes me back firmly when I try to follow.
“Family only,” he says.
So after they’ve bandaged me up and given me painkillers, I sit in the waiting room outside the operating room. Every ticking hand of the clock is torturous. The scene replays over and over in my mind.