The police showed up Tuesday night.
And that was how I realized that it was Tuesday, three days past Saturday. Three days since my friends had...had died and I’d been asleep. I’d been alive and been asleep.
The cops walked into my hospital room, two of them, and icy fear pooled into my stomach. I was petrified, my wild gaze darting from my mom to the two men in light blue uniforms and weird hats. A nurse was with them, and before they could even introduce themselves, she warned, “You got about ten to fifteen minutes before we need to give her another round of meds. She does not need to be upset right now.”
The older trooper removed his hat and nodded, revealing graying sandy-colored hair. “We won’t take up a lot of time.”
The nurse shot them another stern look before leaving the room.
I swallowed as the old man introduced himself to me and Mom.
“I’m Trooper Daniels. This is Trooper Allen.” He gestured at the younger dark-skinned man, who’d also removed his hat. “We are investigating the crash from Saturday night and we have some questions if you’re up for it.”
“I don’t know if she’s ready.” Mom looked at me wearily. “She only just woke up this morning and found out about her friends...”
Trooper Allen bowed his head. “We are truly sorry for your loss.” He held his hat at his waist, just below his navel. “We have a few questions that we hope you’ll be able to answer so we can fill in some gaps.”
I didn’t want to do this. The tears were already snaking back up on me, but I cleared my throat. I didn’t think I really had a choice. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Trooper Daniels moved to the side of the bed. “We need to know everything that you remember. Do you think you can do that?”
Closing my eyes, I wanted to be anywhere other than I was, and I didn’t want to talk about what I was starting to remember, but this was the police.
So I did.
As I spoke, I started crying again, because the look on Mom’s face screamed disappointment and hurt. The cops had little to no reaction as they peppered the room with brisk questions.
“Was alcohol being served at this party?”
“Were Keith’s parents home at the time and were they aware that you were drinking?”
“Do you remember seeing Cody drinking?”
“Was Chris too intoxicated to drive his own vehicle?”
“How much did you have to drink?”
Some of these questions I suspected they already knew the answers to, but they were checking my answers to see if they matched. When they stopped, I felt like I had to say something. The words were crawling up my throat.
“We... I didn’t think anything would happen,” I whispered, voice and soul and heart and everything about me feeling frayed and broken. “We didn’t think.”
“People so rarely do nowadays,” Trooper Daniels responded, voice heavy. “Especially kids your age. We see it far too often.”
And that was...that.
Especially kids your age. Like it was nothing at the end of the day. They left the room, and all I could do was stare after them. The room was left in silence. This horrible, nerve-stretching silence. I closed my eyes, because I couldn’t bear to look at Mom, to see what I knew she was thinking.
I was that person.
Reckless.
Irresponsible.
At fault in every sense of the word.
* * *
The meds they administered into the IV made everything...easier and I was just able to lie there. I didn’t hurt. I didn’t have to talk. Lori and Mom were silent, sitting in their chairs, watching reruns of some show.
My brain didn’t shut down as I lay there.
But I didn’t think about that night.
I couldn’t think about that.
As I lay there, feeling like I was floating a good foot or two off the bed, I remembered a different night.
The last time we all were at the lake, back in July.
It had been the weekend of the Fourth of July, and we’d all been together—all of us. Someone had carted out an old charbroil grill, and Sebastian had the back of his Jeep open and the music turned up high.
I sat with Abbi, Dary and Megan as Keith attempted to use snow skis on the lake. Everyone was laughing except Abbi. Her eyes... Her eyes were wide as she murmured over and over, “He’s going to kill himself. We’re all about to watch him die.”
But Keith hadn’t died.
He’d fallen and yelled that he’d broken his butt or something. He’d dragged himself out of the lake, holding up his swimming trunks. Phillip and Chris had been waiting for him. I didn’t remember seeing Cody there.
And in my memory, I’d been busy watching Sebastian, who was standing on the dock, talking to another guy. I’d watched him a lot that night, because I knew he was leaving soon, so my gaze kept finding him.
I wanted to change what I did that night. I wanted to look away from him. I wanted to watch Phillip and Chris. I wanted to turn my head to the right and look at Megan. I wished I’d listened more closely to what she was chattering on about, because now I couldn’t remember. But I knew she looked happy and she was smiling.
And when she got up to join Phillip by the lake’s edge, I wanted to call her back. And I wanted to follow them, forever hold the sight of them standing side by side, but I didn’t. I stayed where I was while someone across the lake let off fireworks.
I tried to change my memory.
But then there had been Sebastian. As the sky lit up and the air echoed, he’d draped his arm over my shoulders. Another firework had shot into the air on a smooth whistle, exploding into a shower of bright red sparks. The entire right side of my body had been warm and pressed against Sebastian. I’d rested my cheek in the crook of his shoulder as the sky flashed, because there was nothing awkward between us then, and I remembered thinking that...that life couldn’t be any better than right then, that moment.
And I had no idea how right I’d been.
* * *
Wednesday morning Mom broke the news. “Your father is on his way.”
“Why?” I asked, staring at the ceiling.
“He’s your father,” she responded, sounding tired.
That wasn’t much of an explanation. He was my father, but he sure as hell hadn’t done a lot of fathering. Why start now?
A horrible thought formed: if I’d been in the hospital since Saturday night, in the ICU, and it was now Wednesday, was he just now on his way?
Sounded so much like Dad that I wanted to laugh but couldn’t.
“He’s driving from Seattle,” she explained, obviously thinking the same thing I had. “You know how he is. Refuses to fly. He should be here tonight, tomorrow morning by the latest.”
I didn’t know my father anymore, and right now I really didn’t have the brain space to figure him out. I didn’t want to see him, but I also didn’t have anything to really say about it.
I just wanted to be left alone with my memories instead of everything that had changed. I didn’t want these new memories erasing everything.
Mom and Lori were taking shifts staying with me. One would drive the forty-some-minute ride home, check the house, shower and grab fresh clothes. The other stayed. Mom didn’t bring up what we’d talked about with the cops.
During one of Mom’s trips home, Lori told me that the accident happened just three miles from Keith’s parents’ house. We hadn’t even made it to the highway, which was a twisted blessing. The curvy road leading to the farm was rarely traveled by anyone beyond those who were going to Keith’s house. If we’d gotten on the highway, we could’ve hit someone else.
Killed more people.
Killed people other than ourselves.
In those hours, when Lori or my mom was quiet, or when the nurses were checking my vitals, thoughts of Megan and the guys consumed me even though I tried to shut it all down. I wanted to ask questions. How was Abbi doing? Had someone called Dary or had she come home Sunday to this? What did Sebastian think? How was Coach... How was Coach handling the loss of Megan? I was replaceable on the team. Megan wasn’t. School had started the day I woke up. How was everyone else doing?
In the ICU, they allowed only family to visit. That would change once I was moved into recovery. From what I heard, INOVA had an open visiting policy. People could come at any time, even overnight. But for now, I was grateful it was only Lori and Mom.
Seeing my friends would make me think about what had happened, beyond the surface level. And I couldn’t. Doing so would make it all too real, too painful, and while I was in the hospital, away from that life, I tried to pretend I was in here for anything other than the reason I was.
“Mr. Miller has been amazing with Mom,” Lori said late Wednesday evening while Mom was in the cafeteria, wherever that was located. Mr. Miller was Mom’s boss, the insurance-agency owner. “He gave her this week and next off without making her use her vacation. He rolled over all her unused sick time.”
“That’s nice,” I murmured, staring out the small square window. I couldn’t really see anything other than the sky.
Lori sat on the other side of the bed, her arms propped on the mattress, by my legs, which were currently encased in some kind of bizarre pressure cuffs. Something to do with circulation and preventing blood clots.
“Sebastian texted me,” she announced.
I closed my eyes.
“He’s been asking about you. Every day.” She laughed hoarsely. “You know, when I went home on Monday for the first time, I swear he must’ve been waiting by the window for Mom or me. He came barreling out the door before I even got out of my car. He’s been really worried. So have Abbi and Dary.”
My chest squeezed. I didn’t want to think about them. I didn’t want to think about Sebastian or Abbi and Dary worrying about me when Megan was gone. When his friends, his close friends, were also gone. I didn’t want to think.
Lori exhaled raggedly, and a moment of silence passed. “Megan and Chris’s funeral is tomorrow. Their family has decided to hold them both at the same time.”
I stopped breathing.
Her funeral was tomorrow? It seemed so quick. Like it was over already, before it even began. And her family wasn’t just...wasn’t just burying her; they were also burying Chris. I couldn’t even... I just couldn’t.
“Phillip’s funeral is on Friday and Cody’s is on Sunday. His is taking longer because...” She trailed off.
I opened my eyes. The sky was a deeper shade of blue. It was almost night. “Why?” I croaked out.
Lori sighed again. “They had to do an...an autopsy on him, since he was driving. They didn’t perform one on the rest. It wasn’t necessary beyond taking blood samples.”
Autopsies and blood samples.
Was that all they were now?
“The school is letting students attend the funerals if they want. The absence won’t be held against them.”
That was...nice of the school. I imagined there would be a lot of people at the funerals. The guys were super popular. So was Megan. A stupid thought flickered through my head: How would they play football Friday night? It was their opening game. They would be missing three...three starting players.
I bet they had a team of grief counselors at the school. A sophomore had died last year from cancer and there’d been extra counselors brought in.
“Mom is going to Megan’s funeral tomorrow,” Lori said, and I stiffened. “I don’t know if she’s going to tell you ahead of time. She didn’t want me telling you about the funerals, but I thought you should know.”
I didn’t say anything.
Several minutes passed. An eternity it seemed, but not long enough.
“You don’t have to talk about it now. You don’t even have to think about it,” my sister said quietly. “But you’re going to have to, Lena. At some point, you’re going to have to face what happened. You just don’t have to right now.”
* * *
Thursday morning they moved me into general recovery. There was less serious-looking equipment in this room and more chairs. In my new room, they had the top of my bed inclined to help with breathing, and after I went through several rounds of breathing treatments, they had me up, walking back and forth in the hallway outside. The nurse walked alongside me, holding the back of my gown closed.
Walking was exhausting.
According to the doctor, I wouldn’t be fully healed for about two weeks, and during this time I would tire out easily, but I had to keep moving to make sure I didn’t end up with fluid in my lungs or a blood clot.
Before the accident, I would’ve been scared witless of fluid in my lungs or a blood clot. I’d think every pain in my leg or half breath was a harbinger of death. I’d be Googling the symptoms nonstop.
Now?
I...I just didn’t care.
As I shuffled down the hall, I thought about how a blood clot would be quick. Wouldn’t it? Like the very second it broke loose, it would be over.
Just like the moment the car hit the tree. It was over for Megan and Chris and Phillip. There one second, and gone in the next heartbeat.
Lori would be heading back to Radford that weekend, since Dr. Arnold was pretty positive I’d be released on Sunday, Monday by the latest.
Life would go back to normal for the most part.
But it wouldn’t.
Life would never be normal.
Mom told me she’d gone to Megan’s funeral.
“It was lovely, the way they handled it with her and Chris.” She’d paused. “When you’re ready, we can visit their resting place.”
That was all she’d said about it.
Now she was sitting in the chair by the window. The glass was spotted, like it hadn’t been cleaned in a while, and for some reason I was fascinated by that. It was a hospital. How could there be dead flies on the windowsills?
Mom hadn’t asked me what I was thinking when I got into the car. After the outburst in the ICU, she was a pillar of strength. Blond hair smoothed into a coiffed ponytail. Black yoga pants defuzzed. The swelling in her eyes hadn’t gone down, though, and I had this sinking suspicion when she drove home or when I slept, she let the control crack.
She was crying a lot.
Like she had in the months after Dad had left us.
“I checked in with the school on the way here,” she told me, closing the magazine she’d been skimming. “They’re aware that you won’t be starting until the third week.” She shoved the magazine into her tote. “I’m sure you’re ready to get back to it.”
I didn’t care about going to school. How was I supposed to care about that when Megan wasn’t going back? When Cody and Phillip and Chris were also gone? Nothing about that seemed fair.
Nothing about the accident was.
Like how...how did I survive? Because out of everyone, it shouldn’t have been me.
“The teachers have been amazing,” she continued. “They’ve been collecting work. I believe Sebastian will be bringing it over to the house tomorrow.”
Sebastian.
How could I see him again?
How could I see Abbi or Dary again, because I knew... I remembered enough to know that I...I shouldn’t have gotten in the car. I shouldn’t have let Megan. I should’ve—
Shifting in my bed, I looked up at the ceiling and blinked rapidly. Wetness gathered in my eyes. How was I supposed to walk into that school when everyone else was dead? When Megan wouldn’t be waiting at my locker for me to head to volleyball practice? When she wouldn’t be giving me my weekly Friday lecture in the most obnoxious way possible?
When I didn’t answer, Mom looked over at the books Lori had brought for me. They sat on the little stand. “Have you already read them?” she asked. “If you give me a list, I can grab the ones you haven’t read.”
I hadn’t touched the pile of books. I wasn’t sure if I’d read them or not. Drawing in a shallow breath, I focused on the TV. Mom had turned it on a national news channel. “The books are fine.”
Mom didn’t respond for a long minute. “You’re able to have visitors now. I know—”
“I don’t want visitors.”
Mom frowned. “Lena.”
“I don’t want...anyone here,” I repeated.
“Lena, I know Abbi and Dary are planning to come see you. So is Sebastian.” She scooted forward, keeping her voice low. “They’ve been waiting until—”
“I don’t want to...see them.” I turned my head toward her. “I just don’t.”
Her eyes widened. “I think it would be very good for you to see them, especially after—”
“After Megan died? After Cody and the guys died?” I snapped as my pulse picked up. The stupid heart monitor matched its tempo. “You think it would be good for me to see my friends, knowing...that I let everyone get in the car and they died?”
“Lena.” Mom rose, coming closer to the bed. She put her hand on the headboard and leaned over me. “You weren’t the sole person responsible that night. Yes, you made a severely bad choice, but you are not the sole—”
“I wasn’t drinking,” I said, and watched the blood drain from my mom’s face. “I remember that. I had...a few sips earlier in the night. If they tested me...when I came in, they would’ve seen I...I wasn’t drunk. So I...I was sober. I could’ve driven.” My voice cracked. “I should’ve driven.”
Mom slowly pushed away from the bed and sat down heavily in the chair. “Then why didn’t you?” Her voice was thick.
“I don’t know.” I clutched the edge of the blanket, causing my left arm to ache. “I guess I...I didn’t want to...”
“Want to what, Lena?”
The next breath I took hurt. “I didn’t want to...to be the person who makes a big deal out of things.”
“Oh. Oh, baby.” Mom placed her hand over her mouth and then closed her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”
Probably because there was nothing to say.
I remembered standing outside the car now. I remembered watching Cody reach for the door handle and miss. And I remembered asking if he was okay and then caving to the pressure around me.
I remembered.
A knock interrupted us. Mom tensed, dropping her hand. I looked over, and I...I felt nothing and everything in one instance.
Dad stood in the doorway.