She pulls back and looks down at me with those puffy red eyes, her mascara gently staining her cheeks. “I thought we’d lost you.”
I stare blankly at her, and then look over at the door for my dad.
He doesn’t come in.
He isn’t here.
Of course he isn’t here. He’s probably off somewhere with his new girlfriend and her perfect kids, the kind who don’t steal cars, and don’t hurt people. He left two months ago. Part of me still assumes he’ll come back. He hasn’t. No matter how hard I pray, he doesn’t come back.
“Is she okay, nurse?” my mother asks, her voice a pathetic whine.
“She’s going to be fine. A few cuts and bruises, and a little internal damage that we operated on, but otherwise, she’s going to recover well.”
“Oh, thank God. And the other girls?”
My head whips around in the direction of the nurse, desperate to hear her answer. She looks uncomfortable. “I’ll have to wait for the doctor, and, ah, the police. They’re all wishing to talk with you.”
No.
No.
That’s bad. That’s so bad.
The police mean something went really wrong. I mean, I know it went really wrong because I hit someone and had a car accident, but a stupid, immature part of me was kind of hoping that we’d all get through it and I’d only get a slap around the wrist for taking my mother’s car.
But I know, deep down, that isn’t the case.
“Oh,” my mother says.
Oh.
Yes.
Oh.
The nurse goes to fetch the doctor, and they return not too long after. A young, male doctor and a police officer.
Oh, God.
I want to die. A million times over.
The doctor introduces himself, but my ears are buzzing, and I don’t hear his name. I can’t breathe. My chest feels like it’s going to collapse. My vision is blurring—tears maybe? I don’t know.
“Calm down, Callie. You’re going to be okay. Take a few deep breaths,” he says.
I do as he asks, and I calm myself down. Once he’s checked me over, he tells me that the police officer, whose name I hear loud and clear—Jack—is going to talk with me, but he warns him not to upset me too much.
Jack nods, and walks over to me, extending his hand. “Hi Callie. I’m going to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay?”
I nod, terrified.
Terrified of what he might be about to tell me.
Terrified of what is going to happen from this point forward.
“Can you tell me what happened, in your words?”
I swallow, glancing at my mother, who is sobbing again. It almost seems like she cares. Almost. But I know she doesn’t. I know she doesn’t because she is never there for anything. Maybe if she was, I wouldn’t have stolen her car. Maybe if she was, I would be at home right now, texting with my friends instead of sitting in a hospital room, having no idea what’s about to happen.
“It was just meant to be a bit of fun,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes. “We just wanted to go for a drive, have a few drinks. I wasn’t drinking; I’m not so careless. We were just going to the lake. We didn’t mean any harm.”
“I’ve told you,” my mother throws in, “I’ve told you what a bad influence those girls are on you, but you don’t listen. You’d never steal my car on your own. You’d never be so stupid.”
I cringe at her words, because they only make me feel a million times worse.
“Ma’am?” Jack asks, politely, but I can hear the edge in his voice. “If you wouldn’t mind waiting outside?”
“She’s my daughter, and she’s underage, so no, I won’t wait outside,” my mother snaps at him, crossing her arms, sniffling and giving him a look that just dares him to try and move her.
“Then, if you don’t mind, let her talk without interruption.”
She purses her lips but says nothing more.
Jack looks back to me. “Carry on when you’re ready.”
“We were driving along, just having fun. Someone dropped a can of alcohol onto the floor of the car, and they were all reaching around trying to find it so it didn’t stain the carpet.”
My mother looks like she’s about to blow a gasket. Her face is that red at this revelation. That’s all she cares about. Her damned car. What about me? What about my friends? What about that poor girl?
“Did you reach for the can?” Jack asks me, it’s only now that I notice he has a recorder in his hand, so small it’s hardly noticeable.
“Yes, but I was watching the road. At least, I mostly was. I only looked away for a second and . . .”
The image comes crashing back into my mind, the vision of the girl meeting my eyes, her face so calm as she just stepped in front of that car. I grab my stomach as pain grips me, and I look to Jack, who is giving me a gentle expression.
