Authors: Marta Brown
Tags: #dating, #beach, #young adult, #young love, #ebook, #dance, #college, #sweet, #summer, #first love, #beach read, #marthas vineyard, #nantucket, #summer romance, #all in, #marta brown
“All done,” the nurse says, snapping
me out of it. The memory leaves my heart pounding as she secures
the last piece of tape around the cotton gauze covering most of my
right hand and the majority of both arms up to my
elbows.
I shrug the blanket off, stand up and
wobble unsteadily when my feet touch the ground.
“Whoa there, not so fast.” The nurse
guides me back to the bed and covers me up again. “I think we’re
going to have you lie down for a little while longer, until a
family member gets here. You’re still in shock.”
Shock? That can’t be. Can it? With the
pain meds having finally kicked in, soothing the pain of my burns,
I feel fine, besides the unusual tremors racking my body every few
minutes.
“But I need to see Ashley,” I say like
the nurse knows who the hell I’m talking about. I try to sit up
again, but she pushes me gently back down. I look at her
pleadingly. “I have to get up. Please. I have to find Ashley and
check on Andrew.”
“Settle down,” Sam says, walking into
the room still in uniform.
The nurse looks at Sam then back to
me. “He’s in shock. You’ll need to wait to question him,” she says
protectively.
Sam relaxes out of cop mode. “It’s
okay, ma’am, I’m a friend of the family. I’m not here to question
him, just thought I’d wait with him until his mom gets here,” he
explains, and that seems to placate the nurse. He looks at me with
concern in his eyes. “How ya doing, bud?”
“I’m okay,” I say. Sam looks at the
nurse for confirmation. He’s seen me shake off too many lacrosse
injuries in the past.
“He has second and third degree burns
on his hands and arms, but for the most part he’ll be
fine.”
“See, I’m good. Can you please tell
her I need to get out of here so I can find Ashley and check on
Andrew?”
“Andrew’s in surgery right now, Lane.
He sustained some pretty serious injuries, and I’m not gonna lie,
it’s touch and go.” Sam puts his hand on my shoulder avoiding my
dressings as my heart drops into my stomach and my head drops to my
chest. “Thankfully for him, you were able to get him out of the
car. Otherwise, I’m not sure he would have survived the fire, let
alone his injuries.”
Andrew’s lifeless body flashes in my
mind and I have to bite back bile. Thanks to me? If it weren’t for
me Andrew wouldn’t be hurt in the first place.
I toss the blanket off and get to my
feet. “I have to find her. I have to find Ashley.” I stare at Sam,
silently begging him to help.
Sam looks at the nurse.
“Ma’am?”
The nurse looks me over then
eventually nods. “He can go.” She hands me a piece of paper with
instructions on how to care for my burns and a small paper bag full
of tubes of burn cream, gauze, tape and a prescription for pain
killers. “But make sure to watch for any latent signs of shock for
the next few hours,” she says to Sam before returning to the task
of filling out my chart.
“Will do. Thank you, ma’am.” I should
thank her too, but the only thing I can focus on is finding
Ashley.
I follow Sam out of the room, down a
number of long corridors, up a flight of stairs and then into a
large sitting area just off a busy hallway in the ICU.
“Where is she?” I ask, looking around
the empty room, but just as the words come out of my mouth, a door
to the right of me opens, and Ashley steps out.
Her face is blotchy under the harsh
florescent lights and her eyes are red and swollen from crying. She
looks up as she shuts the door quietly behind her, but she doesn’t
seem to recognize me. She just stands, motionless, staring at me
like I’m a stranger.
She must be in shock too.
“Baby,” I say, cautiously walking
towards her. “Baby, are you okay?”
She says nothing, just stares through
me as I reach out and wrap my arms around her. I place a kiss on
her forehead, breathing in her scent like it’s an antidote that
will heal my wounds and Andrew’s too.
Her body goes rigid in my arms for a
split second, then with more force than I thought she was capable
of, she jams her hands against my ribs and shoves me so hard I
stumble backwards.
“Do. Not. Touch. Me.”
I stare at her and can’t understand
what’s happening. Her lithe body trembles as she positions her
hands in front of her defensively. Maybe the nurse is right; I’m
still in shock and it’s making me confused.
I hold my hands up. “Ash, it’s just
me,” I say, taking a step forward, her eyes narrowed on me like I’m
a threat.
“Don’t.”
My heart thrashes against my ribcage.
“Baby, please.” I take another tentative step forward until she’s
so close I can feel her breath wash over me. I place my hands on
her arms then softly rub them up and down, hoping the warmth of my
touch with ease her frayed nerves and stop her trembling, like the
warm blanket had done for me.
“I said don’t touch me. Don’t even
come near me,” she yells, her eyes filling with tears.
I stumble again, this time her words
knock me back. “What?” I ask at the revulsion I hear in her voice.
Now I’m in shock.
“This is all your fault. Andrew’s in
surgery and the doctors aren’t even sure if he’s going to make it,”
she screams.
“What do you mean… my fault?” I
stammer, the words catching in my throat.
“Everything. Everything is your fault.
If it weren’t for you, Andrew wouldn’t be here at all.” She steps
forward and shoves me again. “You did this. You did this to him,”
she cries. “Every single choice you made this summer brought us
here, to right now. And now my brother is struggling to stay alive
because of you. Don’t you see?” Ashley shouts, tears streaming down
her cheeks as she buries her face in her hands.
Her words crash against me so hard
that it might as well have been me in the accident.
“Ashley, what’s going on out here?”
her father asks, stepping out of the room she just came from, his
shoulders tight and his skin pale. When Mr. Whitmore sees me
there’s no hiding the fury in his bloodshot eyes. “You!” He points
his finger at me, spittle flying as he yells. “Can’t you just leave
our family alone?” He wraps his arms around Ashley’s shaking body,
never taking his eyes off of me. “Haven’t you done enough?” he
says, his voice breaking on the last word, like he’s on the verge
of tears. He shakes his head then turns and guides her back into
the private room shutting the door behind them.
Unconsciously I take a step toward the
door, needing to follow her, to make this right, but Sam grabs my
shoulder stopping me.
“Let them be,” he says
quietly.
“But I need…” I start, but can’t
finish, the words unable to form around the lump in my throat. I
rake my hands through my hair and stare at the closed door, knowing
Ashley’s on the other side hurting and I’m to blame. I feel actual
pain pierce my heart, and I can’t take in a full breath, no matter
how hard I try.
“Come on, you don’t look so good. I’m
gonna take you home,” Sam says from behind me, giving my shoulder a
gentle squeeze.
I shut my eyes as my shoulder slips
out of Sam’s grip. My legs buckle under the weight of Ashley’s
words, causing my knees to hit the hard tile floor with a sickening
crack. I bury my head in my hands and sob silently on the
ground.
She’s right. This is all my fault and
I’ve lost her.
Ashley
Hot tears run down my face, but I’m
alone, so I let them come. “Andrew, I need you to wake up. Please,”
I beg. “It’s my birthday and I can’t celebrate without
you.”
I search for signs of movement or
understanding, but just like every other time in the last two weeks
that I’ve pleaded with him to wake up, I’m met only with the steady
beep of machines as he continues to lay comatose in his hospital
bed.
“I don’t know what to do, Andrew, and
I need you. I need my big brother,” I say like he’s wide awake.
It’s how I’ve talked to him since the accident, hoping he’ll
suddenly wake up and join the conversation. He hasn’t.
Yet.
“Andrew, I need you to wake up and
explain to me how you got into this whole mess in the first place.
Explain to me how you ended up racing Gregory. He says it was
supposed to be a race between him and Lane, but Lane somehow forced
it off on you. Explain to me how that happened. Wake up and explain
to me what in the hell was so important that it’s worth you lying
in this bed for? Wake up and tell me right now. Wake up.” I lay my
head down and sob against Andrew’s arm, clutching his hand in mine.
“Please, Andrew, wake up and explain it to me. Please.”
The unexpected sound of the door
opening startles me from my pleas. I quickly wipe the tears from my
face, expecting to see my parents returning from the cafeteria, but
instead a police officer stands in the doorway.
He nods. “Miss.”
“Can I help you?” I
sniffle.
“I’m Deputy Paulson, ma’am.” The
officer takes his hat off and tucks it under his arm. “I’m working
your brother’s case with Officer Evans. He asked me to stop by and
check on Mr. Whitmore’s condition.”
I look at Andrew, lying motionless in
the bed, then back to the deputy. “No change. But the swelling has
gone down, so the doctors are hopeful he’ll wake soon.” I’m hopeful
too.
“Well, that’s good to hear. I’ll let
Officer Evans know. Oh, and I’ve got these to drop off,” he says,
handing me a clear plastic bag. Inside is Andrew’s wallet and
phone, a set of car keys and a brown paper sack that’s burned on
the edge, revealing the corner of a book. “These are the personal
effects found at the scene. Nothing we need to keep for
evidence.”
“Evidence?” I question.
“Yes, ma’am. Since we haven’t been
able to speak with your brother and there are no eye witnesses when
the accident happened, we had to open an investigation into whether
it was an accident or if there was foul play involved. Not to
worry, miss, it’s standard practice.”
I clutch the bag against my chest. “Of
course. And thank you for dropping his things off. I’ll be sure to
have my parents call the station as soon as Andrew wakes
up.”
“That’d be great, thank you, ma’am,”
the deputy says before stepping out of the room and shutting the
door quietly behind him.
When I open the bag, the overwhelming
smell of smoke assaults my senses, causing me to relive the moment
the paramedics put Andrew’s lifeless body in the ambulance. The
memory makes me nauseous.
I set Andrew’s wallet and phone aside
then pull out the brown paper bag, removing the old book from the
charred sack. The Twelve Dancing Princesses. I flip the book over
and then back again. Why would Andrew have this?
I glance in the paper sack and find a
birthday card covered in pink balloons and a small receipt. Books
and Biscotti. The coffee shop Lane told me he waited at during my
audition. This isn’t Andrew’s book, it’s Lane’s. As I turn the book
around in my shaking hands, fresh tears pool in my eyes, I know
it’s not Lane’s either. It’s mine, for my birthday, and he bought
it on our trip.
Our trip. The memories flood my mind,
making me feel nauseous all over again, but not in the same way.
I’m sick to my stomach with heartbreak.
In one split second, my brother’s
fighting for his life and I’m fighting a war with myself between
blaming Lane for what happened and still loving him. No matter how
hard I try to get my head and heart to merge, in either love or
hate, I can’t.
I reach back in the plastic bag and
grab the set of blackened keys lying at the bottom. I recognize
them immediately by the silver L hanging from the keychain, a gift
to Lane from Grandpa Frank. Holding the soot covered letter in my
hand I notice an addition to the key ring, one I had never seen
before, a beautiful matching silver A.
Tears run down my face as I clutch the
book and key ring to my chest. “What have I done?” I cry, wishing
Lane was here with me, on my birthday, helping me through this
tough time. My heart and head finally merging together. In
love.
I bury my face in the crook of my arm,
still holding Andrew’s limp hand, while tears soak my sleeve. I
feel like I lost both Andrew and Lane the night of the accident and
the ache is overwhelming.
“Shhhhh, don’t cry.” I hear someone
say faintly before I feel a gentle pressure on my hand. I whip my
head up and see Andrew’s eyes fluttering open.
“Andrew? Andrew!”
I jump to my feet, throw open the door
and yell down the hall to the nurses’ station until a nurse comes
running down the hall frantically.
“Is everything okay?” she says in a
panic, out of breath.
“My brother, he’s awake,” I say with a
huge smile, tears still streaming down my face, but now they’re
full of joy.
…
A flurry of white and blue blur
together as nurses and doctors come in and out of the small
hospital room checking Andrew’s vitals while my parents and I wait
anxiously in the hallway, until finally, Andrew’s primary nurse
steps out of the room, and quietly instructs us to let Andrew rest
after we have a short visit.