Star-Crossed (16 page)

Ethan grasps his son's arm and starts to push him through the car door, but Chris resists and stays stock still. “I'm not leaving her, Dad, I'm not going home,” he shouts, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring. “We're going to be together whether you like it or not, so just let me
go
—”

Ethan gives his son a fierce look, the expression darkening strong features. “Get in the car, Christopher. And you can forget about that girl, she's—”

“A stuck-up loser from an arrogant jerk's family?” Chris shouts over the wind and rain. “Like you've been telling me for years? Well, you're
wrong
!” He tears the strong grip off his arm. “Jen is amazing, Dad, she's amazing! It's taken me this long to realize that all the crap that you've been feeding me is wrong and I'm not going to let you take that away. You can't control me like just another soldier, Dad, I'm your—”

“
Chris!
”

Both son and father turn around to see a girl, dark hair wrestling with the wind, dash into the middle of the road. Her white dress is soaking, and she must be freezing, but the look of determination and desperation on her face makes it clear that she doesn't care. Chris sees her face and his heart does a back-flip. He turns to face her, to run to meet her, but his dad grabs his arm to stop him. That's when he sees the car.

Chris stops dead.

Jen is still running.

Straight into the path of the oncoming car.

“
JEN
!
”

Jen spins around. She stares, transfixed, frozen to the spot.

Chris and his dad stop breathing as they see Jen collide with the bonnet of the car, roll across it and slide off on to the road in a crumpled white heap.

 

The rain seems to pour even harder. The car screeches to a stop, and nothing seems to move. Everyone leaving the building who saw the accident is frozen in shock. The drivers have stopped their cars. For a split second everyone is staring at the pool of white in the middle of the road.

And then everything starts to move.

Some people run inside, some pull out phones and some move forward towards Jen, but Chris has already begun to run.

“JEN!” he cries, tearing away from his father.

He sprints across the wet tarmac and skids to a halt next to Jen's motionless body. She looks so small and peaceful. She could almost be asleep. He collapses next to her, leaning over her and frantically peering into her face, looking for signs of life. Her pale face is covered by wet hair. He pushes it all away. Her eyes are closed, and there is a large gash on the side of her head. The blood looks so dark on her skin. The sight of it makes Chris feel sick. Panic breaks out in the pit of his stomach, and he touches her cheek, trying to get her to wake up.

“Jen?” he says loudly, his voice rising. “Jen, can you hear me? Jen, wake up! Jen!”

A crowd starts to gather around the two of them, questioning Chris and asking each other what to do, but he can't hear them. His whole attention is focused on Jen.

She's not responding. His panic level soars.

“Why isn't she waking up?!” he says to himself. “Why aren't you waking up, Jen, wake up, WAKE UP!”

He goes to shake her, but a strong hand grabs his shoulder and pulls him back before he can.

“Don't move her!” the figure shouts, pushing Chris backwards. “She could have spinal injuries! Stay away from my daughter!”

Chris stumbles backwards, staring blindly at Jen's body and hoping that this is just some staggering, terrifyingly realistic dream, but knowing underneath his panic that no dream could destroy him like this. Will checks over his daughter and tries to find her pulse. Maddy runs up to her sister.

“Jen!” she says with a strangled cry and covers her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “Oh my God, Jen, oh my God…”

Will hears his oldest daughter and immediately stands up, and wraps her in his arms as she starts to cry, still staring in shock at her sister's body.

“It's OK…” he hushes her. “She's still alive, but her pulse is very weak…” He turns to address the crowd. “Has anyone called an ambulance?!”

Several shouts go up from the people nearby. Satisfied, he lets go of Maddy and takes off his coat, bends down and wraps it around his youngest daughter, making sure that she doesn't get any wetter. Immediately, Chris lurches into action and takes off his own jacket, moving forward to crouch next to Jen as he offers his jacket to Will. Will takes it, then looks to see who the donor is. His eyes widen with shock, and he freezes as he takes in who is beside him. He lets go of the jacket and it drops to the floor.

“You,” he says, standing up and staring at Chris, who stands up too.

“Sir, I—”

“Look what you've done to my
daughter
!” Will screams, gesturing back to Jen. Her face is bloody. Chris has to look away.

Maddy pulls on her father's arm and says quietly to the floor, “Come on, Dad, don't make a scene. Just leave it. This is not the time.”

Will doesn't look back. “No. This time I'm not going to leave it. I'm not going to let another Banner get away with being the cause of our family getting hurt.”

Maddy shakes her head and backs off, then kneels beside her sister. Will's gaze snaps to Ethan, whose eyes narrow. He steps forward to stand protectively in front of his son, glaring daggers at Will.

“If your family learned to look after themselves, then they wouldn't
get
hurt in the first place.”

“If your family weren't so damn arrogant then maybe my family
could
look after themselves!”

Ethan takes a step forward. “You didn't always have to follow my lead, you could have thought for yourself for once! If you had done that, then maybe you would have survived the camp!”

Will moves right up into Ethan's face. “I would have survived the camp if you had stuck up for me! We were brothers, Ethan, and you betrayed me, you son of a—”

His fist flies into his old friend's face.

As the punch connects, the crash flashes across Chris's eyes again. He breaks out in a cold sweat and starts to panic. This is too much for him to take. He thinks he's going to pass out. Everything goes hazy and the world starts to spin, his gaze drops…

Then he sees Jen.

Maddy is on the floor next to her.

Giving her mouth to mouth.

Mouth to mouth
.

Mouth to—

His vision sharpens and sees his father going to fight back. Anger flares inside of him and surges him forward. He pushes between them, shoving them roughly apart.

“ENOUGH!” he shouts, looking sharply from one man to the other, both of whom are gazing in a stunned silence at Chris's outburst. “WHAT THE
HELL
IS WRONG WITH YOU? You're fighting about something that happened years ago, while
your daughter
” – he turns to a shocked Will – “and the girl that
I love
” – he shouts at his own father – “is lying there, probably fighting for her life, and needing your help! How can two grown men be so STUPID? I'm sick and tired of hearing about this stupid fight – this stupid feud! – that you have carried on through me, and through her, because you know what? It's none of our damn business! IT'S NOT OUR WAR TO FIGHT!” He takes a deep breath, and nobody says a word. The street is so quiet that the only sound is the rain hitting the pavement. Chris is soaking wet, his clothes drenched and his blonde hair stuck to his face. He gives a humourless smile to the two fathers and shrugs, pushing back his hair out of his face.

“I've been so blind,” he continues softly. “So blind, thinking that Jen is a waste of space, when actually it turns out that I can't live without her.” He turns to his dad. “She's all I think about. Every time I shut my eyes, all I can see is her smile. Every time I try to think, all I can hear is her voice! I
know
that this is the real thing.” He turns to Will, his face a picture of honesty, eyes pleading for trust. “I am
so
in love with her.”

The men all look back to Jen, who is lying, unmoving, on the ground. Chris walks over and kneels by her side. His heart breaks. She looks so peaceful, so fragile, so—

You're awake.

Your eyes flicker open.

You stare at Chris, your green eyes sparkling through the rain.

Those beautiful eyes that make him want to cry.

Those beautiful eyes that are filling with tears.

“I heard you…” you whisper with a shaky smile. “I heard what you said, I heard your words…”

He closes his eyes.

Thank you, God.

As he returns his gaze to his Juliet, you smile. You don't say a word, but you don't have to. One look into your eyes tells him everything he will ever need to know.

Nothing will stand in your way.

With special thanks to:

My amazing parents, who are always there.

The best sister anyone could ask for.

My grandpa, who believed in me so much, as do my entire family (that is ALL of you, extended and adopted), who have always encouraged my writing and supported me through the best and worst of times. These people are the closest thing I have to angels.

To my huge network of friends – at school: the Awesome Foursome, The Six, The Bus Crew, Form 11B of 2007 and all of you who know me and have promised to buy this book (you guys all know who you are).

To Miss Bowden, Miss Logan, Mrs Truscott (Slinger), Mrs Taylor and Miss V, who have supported and helped me with my English for the past three years; and for Miss Robertson and Rebecca, who encouraged my drama – inspiring Jen's passion for acting.

Also to Fiona “Go with the beans” Stone for everything she has done.

To my amazingly talented and fantastic friends and teachers at Stagecoach, who are always there (especially the gorgeous Jess, wonderful Jaks, Dan my guardian angel, Gee my gem, EvaMahNevah, Gerard the Legend, my amazing Kate, the co-founder of team Shexi, and Fantastic Faye).

To Lisa, who may be far away but is never far from my mind.

A massive thanks to my first fan-base, made up of Gemma, my very own Mina Tucker and also the Swedish Mitra, “don't.eat.yellow.snow”, and countless people from Quizilla who sent me so many messages and got me on to the Highest Rated (one of the proudest days of my life). All of your death threats will stay will me for ever.

The incredible people at Scholastic. You know who you are. With extra thanks to Elv, who has been there more than she had to be, the lovely Laura and Holly.

To all of you who have been there, who are here, and who will be there.

And to you for reading this book. Thank you.

 

Rachael Wing was only fourteen years old when she posted the first few chapters of
Star-Crossed
on a writers' website. She was spotted by Scholastic Children's Books, who were hugely impressed by this brand-new talent – and the glowing reviews from the other readers.

 

Sometimes, truth is just as fabulous as fiction!