the words. I just knew it was new because it was orange, unlike the others.
“Good morning, Lena.” He sat back in his chair, smiling as I shuffled toward the chair across from him. “I learned you weren’t at school yesterday. Are you not feeling well?”
After dropping my bag on the floor, I sat in the chair, stiff as a board. “It was just a bad day.”
“Care to elaborate?”
My first instinct was to say no, but that wasn’t what these sessions were about. So I told him what had happened with Sebastian. Not all the details because, seriously, that would be way too awkward. When I finished, I already felt exhausted and emotionally spent, and I’d barely even really started.
“Do you think Sebastian is wrong for wanting to move on?”
“Yes. No.” I wanted to bang my head off the table. “I don’t know. I mean, no. He’s not wrong. He gets to move on. He gets to—”
“And you don’t get to move on?” Dr. Perry interrupted.
Shaking my head, I opened my mouth but struggled to say what he already knew. “Why should I get to move on?”
He placed his mug down. “Why shouldn’t you?”
“Because it’s my fault,” I said, feeling sick.
“I think what we really need to do right now is for you to walk me through that night,” he said gently. “Do you think you can do that?”
“Yes,” I said. “I need to do this. To talk about that night.” Tears filled my eyes and my heart pounded wildly in my chest. “I knew Cody was drunk and I...I could’ve stopped him. I wasn’t drunk.”
And then I walked him through everything that had happened that night.
* * *
I found myself standing in the driveway with Megan. I was done with the party. I had a headache stabbing me behind the eyes, and the music and shouting and laughter weren’t helping.
I just wanted to go home, and I was so not looking for Sebastian to tell him so. Not after our talk/argument and the fact I hadn’t seen him since Skylar showed up. I really didn’t need to walk up on them in the middle of them practically eating each other’s faces.
A heavy weight settled in my stomach.
God, I wished I hadn’t said anything to Sebastian. Now tomorrow was going to be different, and there was no going back. No pretending that everything was the same.
I really wanted to go home.
“Where’s Chris?” I asked.
Leaning heavily into me, Megan nodded to where Cody was bent over, one arm hanging on an open car door as he talked to someone. Her cousin Chris was standing beside him. “One of them is driving us home,” she said slowly. “That’s all I know.”
Cody was leaving with us?
“I’m a bit trashed,” Megan slurred after a moment.
“Really?” I replied drily, almost wishing I were in her shoes that moment.
“Just a little.” Sighing, she wrapped her arm around my waist. “I love you, Lena.”
I grinned as I pushed my damp hair out of my face. “I love you, too.”
“Do you love me enough to carry me inside my house, pass my mom and tuck me into bed?” she asked, pushing away from me. She was momentarily distracted by the hum of crickets. “After we stop at McDonald’s so I can get chicken nuggets?”
I laughed. “Maybe I can help you get nuggets, but not sure how to get you past your mom.”
She giggled as she looked around, swaying slightly. “Wait...did you tell Sebastian you were leaving?”
“I have no idea where he is,” I said, watching Cody and Chris head toward us.
She clapped her hands together, rocking backward. “Let’s go find him.”
“Find who?” Cody asked.
“Sebastian!” shrieked Megan, and I winced.
Cody dropped his arm over my shoulders. “Pretty sure he’s with Skylar. Probably in the pool house.” He squeezed me. “Thought I saw them walking into there.”
The hole in my chest tripled. Cody could’ve been making it up, but it could also be true, and it...it also didn’t matter.
Megan cringed. “All righty, then, let’s not find him.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, stepping from under Cody’s arm.
Yawning, Chris turned around and tossed his keys at Cody. They smacked off his chest and hit the ground. “Can you drive?” he asked. “I’m whipped.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Bending over, Cody swiped up the keys. “Next time give me a warning.”
“There’s the reason why you’re the quarterback and not the receiver,” Chris taunted. “No amount of heads-up will change that.”
“Screw you,” Cody shot back.
This was going to be the longest ride home ever.
“Hey, wait up!” Phillip came running around the side of the house, holding up the back of his swim trunks. “I’m leaving with you guys.”
Megan sighed beside me. “And here I thought I’d snuck off.”
I was guessing their talk earlier hadn’t ended well.
“All aboard,” Cody said, reaching for the driver’s door and missing it. The handle snapped back.
“Hey,” said Chris from the front passenger seat. “Careful, man. Some of us actually respect our cars.”
“If you respect your car, why are you letting him drive?” Phillip smacked Megan’s behind as he walked past.
She whipped around and nearly fell over, but I caught her arm as I watched Cody open the door, his movements odd and jerky. His face looked flushed in the car’s interior light.
“Are you okay? To drive?” I asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He started to climb in behind the wheel.
I stopped at the door. “You look a little drunk.”
His eyes narrowed. “Jesus. Are you serious? I had one drink.”
I stepped back, surprised by his tone. “I was just asking.”
“He’s fine. Come on.” Megan took my hand and leaned in, whispering in my ear, “I want chicken nuggets and sweet-and-sour sauce.”
“Ew,” I murmured, distracted. Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I tried to think of how many times I’d seen Cody with a drink. I knew I saw him with a bottle. Or was it a cup? I really hadn’t been paying attention to him.
“Maybe I should drive?” I offered.
Chris groaned from the passenger seat. “If you want to leave now, just get in the car, Lena.”
Phillip was climbing in the other side as Megan pushed in behind me. “I don’t want to sit next to him,” she whisper-yelled.
“I can hear you.” Phillip slapped his hand down on the middle seat. “And I’d rather sit next to Lena anyway. She’s nicer.”
“She’s nicer,” mimicked Megan in the whiniest voice I’d ever heard, her hands on my hips. “Hurry, Lena. I’m hungry.”
“I’m fine.” Cody hauled himself up into the front of the SUV. He looked back at me, eyes bright in the light. “Seriously. I’m fine. I’ve driven this road a million times.”
I wasn’t so sure if he was fine or not, but the guys were staring at me and Megan was pushing me, going on and on about the ten-piece nugget meal she was going to murder.
“He’s fine,” Megan said, and then giggled. “I’m so hungry.”
“Come on,” Cody said, smacking his hand off the steering wheel. “You’re being stupid. Get in the car.”
I felt my face heat up. He was right. I was being stupid. I climbed into the car, smushed between Megan and Phillip. It took several moments to wiggle my seat belt out from under Phillip and lock it in place. The windows rolled down all around me as I dug my phone out of my purse and saw several missed texts from Dary.
Megan leaned over me and reached out, flicking her finger off the side of Phillip’s face. “Hey, are you going to buy me nuggets?”
Leaning back, I checked out Dary’s texts. She’d sent me a picture of a painting that looked like something a two-year-old could’ve done. Underneath it was the caption This is art? What am I missing?
“Baby, I’ll bu
y you two nugget meals,” Phillip told her. “And all the sweet-and-sour sauce you could ever want.”
So romantic.
Megan sighed. “You know me. Know me well enough to know that sweet-and-sour sauce is the way to my heart. Why did we break up?”
I made a face at my phone.
The radio turned on, and when I glanced up, Chris’s head was already lolling to the side. Cody was messing with the stations, flipping through them so fast I had no idea what the songs were.
Zoning Megan and Phillip out, I prayed they didn’t try to start making out with me between them as I scrolled through Dary’s texts. Another picture was of a dress, with Dary saying she was thinking about making one just like it. I got to the end of her messages and texted her back.
You’d look amazing in that dress. Heading home from Keith’s. Call you tomorrow.
Cool air streamed through the windows, lifting the ends of my hair. I glanced up. It felt like we were going really fast, but I couldn’t really see anything outside the car. I hit Send and then started to text Abbi so she didn’t worry when she realized I wasn’t there anymore.
Caught a ride with Megan. Didn’t want to bother
“Holy—” Cody’s words were cut off as the SUV suddenly jerked to the right, the movement so sharp my phone slipped out of my hands.
Someone—Megan?—screamed, and we were moving sideways fast. Too fast. Confusion swamped me. I couldn’t breathe past the ball of fear and disorientation choking me.
Time...time slowed down and moved too fast, all at once.
My arms flew up. I tried to grab the front seat, but I was suddenly in the air. Then we were slamming back down. The impact jarred every bone in my body. An earsplitting crack of thunder jolted the car. I heard glass break, shattering like fragile icicles. Shooting pain exploded along the side of my face as something slammed into my head—an arm, no a leg.
We were flying, air lifting us up, and my head snapped backward as the seat belt caught me, the material digging into my stomach and chest. A fire burned through me, and my throat was stinging.
Metal crunched—the roof. Oh my God, the roof gave way, and we were upside down and then upright, then upside down, and I was thrown back and forth, side to side. All I could hear was something...something, eating the car, tearing it apart, piece by piece. Red-hot pain erupted, blindingly white, and that was all there was. Pain. Terror. Flying. Screaming.
Then there was nothing.
TOMORROW
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sitting on my bed, I stared at my phone like I’d done a hundred times since the accident. It was small and black. The screen was as smooth and perfect as the day I got it, while every part of me felt cracked and shattered.
I closed my eyes and breathed through the burn crawling up the back of my throat. The session with Dr. Perry killed me. Other than when the police had come into my hospital room, it was the first time I talked about what happened and actually gave those memories a voice.
I thought talking about what happened would serve like some kind of epiphany. That things would change. That I’d feel some sort of release. But talking openly about the accident, about everything leading up to it, just made me want to take a wire brush to my memories.
I’d known Cody shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. I should’ve listened to that little voice in my head and that feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I hadn’t. If I had, today would’ve been different. Tomorrow would be like all the better yesterdays.
I just hadn’t thought anything would happen.
Opening my eyes, I saw my phone and the pressure in my chest tightened, reminding me of how it felt when I first woke up from the accident. Of course I’d used my phone—texted and called, but...
But there were still texts I hadn’t looked at, voice mails I hadn’t listened to. They remained on my phone, not forgotten but untouched.
I picked up my phone and opened my texts. I scrolled until I got to the dozen or so unread ones. All of them had come in after the crash. I opened them and read the OMG, I hope you’re okay! messages. I opened up the numerous I’m so glad you’re ok. Text me messages. I read them all, my brain completely empty as I clicked out of one and went to the next, until my finger hovered over Abbi’s name and the goofy picture of her wearing a panda hat.
I didn’t even know where she got the panda hat.
I opened her message and slowly scrolled up. The last text from her was the Wednesday after the accident.
Why don’t you want to see us? We miss you and we’re worried about you.
The breath I took scorched my throat. Did Abbi know I hadn’t had my phone while in the hospital? Did that matter? I hadn’t wanted to see my friends and I hadn’t even checked her messages in over a month. It didn’t even matter if she did at this point.
I kept reading and I saw the texts from that Saturday night. It was just two of them. Where are you? And PLEASE TEXT ME BACK NOW.
The text before that was from before I left the party. It was a selfie that she’d taken of us and sent to me. Our cheeks pressed together and both of us smiling. Over our heads, I could make out part of Keith’s face.
Dumbly, I backed out of her texts and then I scrolled back up to Sebastian’s. Swallowing hard, I opened up his texts and made my way to the ones I hadn’t read. His started off just like Abbi’s.
Where are you?
There were several more messages, and I could easily see him firing them off, one after another.
You didn’t leave without coming to get me?
Okay. Please text me back. I’m starting to freak out. Someone said there’s a really bad accident not too far from here.
Come on. Answer your phone. Please.
My heart thumped heavily in my chest. I knew his voice mail was one of the many that sat unheard on my cell.
Closing his texts, I scrolled back down. My thumb hovered over Megan’s texts. I could see that the last text she ever sent me was an attachment. I already knew what it was. A picture of a volleyball that she’d drawn a face on. She’d done it after practice one day. No idea why, but that was Megan. She just did things.
A huge part of me wanted to read through her messages, but I couldn’t handle it—reading her words, seeing what used to be and now what could no longer be. I tapped out of the texts and went to my voice mails.
I listened to them.
The missed call from Lori happened after Mom must’ve called her. In her message, she told me she was coming and that she loved me. She’d sounded okay, calm even, as she spoke. It sounded nothing like Abbi’s message that had come that Saturday night when she had been looking for me, or Dary’s message the following Sunday. I could barely make out what Dary had been saying.
There were more messages from friends I saw every day at volleyball practice, and other messages from people I hadn’t spoken to since we shared a class last year. They were the voices of strangers, but their messages were all the same.
I could barely see the delete button when each message came to an end. Tears filled my eyes and my hand was shaking as I got to the last one I’d skipped over. It was a message from Sebastian, from that Saturday night.
Every muscle in my back locked up as I hit the play button. There were only a few seconds of silence and then I heard his voice.
“Answer your phone. Come on, Lena. Please pick up your damn phone.” His voice was hoarse with a panicked edge after a pause. “You’re not in the car. God, please tell me you’re not in that damn car. Call me and tell me you’re not in that car.”
The message ended. Dropping the phone, I pressed my palms to my eyes. Sebastian sounded like he did when I first woke up in the hospital and saw him.
He sounded destroyed.