Coach’s whistle blew, signaling that we were all expected on the court.
“Go on,” Elowyn said, looking dejected.
“I’ll hate Wyatt too,” I said, turning backward and moving toward the door. This wasn’t hard since he’d never made any effort to even talk to me.
I never got the chance to hate him, though, because they’d made up by suppertime. The trouble was, problems kept surfacing. If Wyatt broke a date, they’d stop speaking for two days. If Elowyn shunned him in the halls, he’d sit with his buds during lunch instead of her. She’d ignore his calls and texts. I couldn’t keep track of who was mad at whom and why. Then one December day, Wyatt came up to me while I was fiddling with my hall locker. He slammed the palm of his hand so hard against the metal locker beside mine that I jumped a foot. “What?” I screeched. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Elowyn is psycho!”
“Don’t talk about my friend like that.” She was usually the one who beat a path to me with a list of gripes about him. I hesitated, then asked, “Now what?”
“I walked Jan Frickie to class and El saw us and had a meltdown. I mean it was nothing. We’re in the same class and we were just walking.”
“The blowup—public or private?”
“Private.”
“That’s good.”
“She won’t even speak to me. Ignores my texts and calls.”
I sighed. “Anything going on with you and Jan?”
“No way! El’s the one. She’s crazy jealous. Sometimes I feel like she’s swallowing me whole.”
He looked so dejected, I felt kind of sorry for him. “Any ideas how I can fix this?” he asked. “She’s really wacked-out and you can help. Please?”
The bell rang and I knew I was going to be late. Inspiration hit me. “Text her in French,” I said, tossing books into my locker and shutting the door.
“Are you kidding?”
“Try it. Make it romantic,” I said, jogging away.
My advice worked, and before I knew it, I became the most-to-be-pitied of human life-forms: the go-between.
Elowyn turned sixteen on December twentieth. She got her license the same day, and her dad gave her the keys to her own car. “Birthday and Christmas,” he told her. She was jumping up and down and screaming; I was staring, awestruck. I wouldn’t be sixteen until March and I was certain there was no car in my future. I’d have to share Mom’s old Honda.
Elowyn dangled the keys in front of me. “Let’s go!”
Her car was bright red, with all kinds of bells and whistles. We hopped inside. The new-car smell was intoxicating and I breathed in deeply.
“Not too far,” Terri called out from the front door.
“We still have cake to eat, Sugar Plum!” her dad yelled.
“Save me a piece!” Elowyn cried as she backed out of the driveway and spun the wheel.
“You be back in twenty minutes!” Terri shouted. “And fasten your seat belts!”
“Twenty minutes. As if!” Elowyn said to me. “Try the radio.”
I found our favorite station. “Where are we going?”
“To show it to Wyatt. Where do you think?”
Not where I’d wanted to go, but I understood. I’d helped to negotiate another truce between them a few days before. Of course she’d want to show him her new car.
“I’ll have a key made for you,” she said.
Her words floored me. “To your car? I’m not legal yet.”
“You will be. And until then, I’ll be picking you up for school every day.”
My mom usually drove us to school and Terri picked us up after practice. “That’ll be so cool. Thank you!”
She grinned. “This will be our best year ever.”
Unless you and Wyatt kill me with your squabbling, I thought, but I didn’t say it. Elowyn had offered me the keys to her car, and I was happy to have such a wonderful and generous best friend.
· 3 ·
Kassey
Mom and I were in the kitchen when she said, “Your father wants to reestablish contact with you.”
She dropped this bombshell on me right after New Year’s.
“What? Why?” I was startled by the news. We hadn’t heard from my dad in many years, and I hardly remembered him, since he’d bailed when I was three.
“According to this, he’s turning his life around.” She waved several pieces of paper at me. “He’s catching up on back child support too. You may be able to go to any college you want after all.”
I’d asked Mom questions about him when I was younger: “Why did he leave?” “Where is he?” “Why doesn’t he come visit?” Then when I turned twelve, Mom sat me down and told me the hard truth. My father was an addict, a druggie. She said, “I knew he had drug problems when we married, but I thought he’d give it up once he had a family. He didn’t. When you were three, I told him, ‘Us or the drugs.’ He picked the drugs and I left with you and he disappeared.” The story was unvarnished, unlaced with comforting words like “he loved you.” Nothing but plain hard facts. She wasn’t mean or angry when she told me, just factual. Her eyes held mine and her voice was steady.
The shock of the truth about my father turned me hot, then cold all over. I had started to cry. What ever happened to “just say no”? In my imagination, I’d made up a father who was an adventurer, a world traveler who trotted around the globe and who Mom had divorced because he was always gone. But from the moment since she’d told me the truth, I’d flushed him out of my heart. There was only Mom and me. I’d sprung from her body like a mushroom.
Learning my father was a drug addict repulsed me. At school only kids on the fringe messed with drugs. Alcohol and cigs were common, but not hard drugs. What hurt most was hearing that he’d abandoned us, throwing us away like an old pair of shoes. I felt so ashamed that I’d never told a soul about him, not even Elowyn. Now I was almost sixteen and he wanted contact. “Ha! What’s he want from me?” I asked Mom.
“He just wants to get reacquainted. Well, acquainted. He’s trying to make amends. You can e-mail him. He gave his e-address.”
“Where is he?”
“Colorado.”
“What should I do?”
“Whatever you want. This has to be your decision, Kassey.”
My mom watched over me and always had. We were a team, mother and daughter braving the world together. I had no place for my father in my life or in my heart. “I don’t want to contact him,” I said. “Why should I? Just because he wants to?”
She looked at me for a long time, then finally she said, “Maybe someday you will.”
I was pretty sure I wouldn’t. I didn’t even think about whether Mom would stay in touch or what she would tell him. I didn’t care.
Volleyball season was in full swing by the end of January. Elowyn and I had moved up to the varsity squad and the local paper called us “the dynamic duo.” Coach Collins called us “the Force.” We were on a winning streak and I loved it. My grades were tops, my volleyball skills smoking, my friendships solid. Maybe Elowyn’s statement that this would be our best year ever would come to pass.
I was at Elowyn’s house, the news about my father wanting contact burning a hole in me. I wasn’t used to keeping secrets from her. “So how are you doing in Wyatt-land?” I asked.
“Good, for now.” Elowyn smiled, toyed with the locket Wyatt had given her for her birthday and Christmas and that she never removed.
“Good to hear,” I said.
“Just wait until your birthday,” she said with a grin, and held up the huge jangling key chain with the words Friends Forever set with sparkly crystals I’d gotten her for Christmas. “You can’t lose this one in your purse,” I’d said at the time.
She’d also given me a cashmere sweater plus slipped me a key to her car, which I’d stashed in a zippered compartment of my purse. “Six weeks,” I said. “But who’s counting?”
We laughed like crazy. Mom was to get off work early and I
would take my driver’s license test the day I turned sixteen. I couldn’t wait.
On Wednesday night a week before Valentine’s Day, I was holed up in my room with a geometry book, a furious thunderstorm raging outside, and flickering electricity. “Don’t go down,” I pleaded with the fluctuating current. Elowyn had wanted me to hit the mall with her after school, but I’d begged off. I had a huge test on Monday and this stuff was hard.
Rain slammed against the windows of my bedroom. Lightning flashed. I cringed.
My cell went off with the music I’d downloaded to signal a call from Elowyn. I grabbed it. “You find any bargains without me?” I asked cheerfully.
“It’s over,” she said, crying.
“What’s over?”
“Me and Wyatt.”
I slumped. “What happened?”
“I caught him with Jan Frickie. I was coming out of Macy’s, the door nearest the theater, and he and Jan were standing out front talking and … and holding hands.”
My stomach dropped. “Oh no. El, I’m sorry.”
She cried harder.
I said, “Maybe there’s an explanation—”
“Oh sure! They had an explanation all right. They’d just ‘bumped into each other.’ That’s what they told me.”
My heart thudded. “You talked to them? While they were together?”
“You bet I did! I hammered them both right there on the sidewalk, in front of everyone. I let them have it. Called him every name I could think of.”
A public blowup; the gossip mill would be churning tomorrow. If anyone had seen them and had a cell handy, the whole mess might be posted on YouTube or Facebook within hours. Not good.
A clap of thunder made me jump. “Where are you?”
“Just driving around. Some old country road.”
“It’s pouring here.”
“Here too.”
“Go home. Call me later.”
“I hate him …” Her voice trailed off. We lost the connection.
I paced the room, working up words to console her. You’re right, he’s a creep. Jan went after him. He adores you, El. You! Deep down I was thinking, If I get my hands on you, Wyatt Nolan, you’re a dead man. No wonder I didn’t want a boyfriend. Boys were trouble! They lied and cheated. The more I paced the madder I got. Wyatt was a snake.
At some point I sat down and picked up my geometry book. Studying for a test was over. I cleared my bed. Fuming, I stretched out, deciding that when Elowyn called I wasn’t going to say a thing to encourage her relationship with Wyatt. I was tired of being the messenger and the fixer. It was time I told El to lose him—not because I was jealous, but because I hated to see her so upset. She could easily find another boyfriend. A line of guys was waiting to grab her up.
I woke from my cell vibrating against my cheek. I had set it not to ring because Mom didn’t allow me to take calls after ten and I was expecting Elowyn to get back to me. Disoriented, I sat up and looked at the clock bleary-eyed. Twelve-twenty. I snatched up the phone, flipped it open. “El?”
“Terri,” the voice said. “It’s Terri.”
I sat up straighter. “Yes?”
With a tight voice, she asked, “Is Elowyn over there with you? She hasn’t come home.”
· 4 ·
Kassey
“Is she there, Kassey?” Terri asked again.
“N-no,” I stuttered.
“Because if she is, if something’s happened—just tell me the truth. I won’t be mad. Her dad and I are worried sick.”
“She isn’t here, Terri. I swear. Cross my heart.”
“Oh, God,” Terri mumbled. “Have you heard from her tonight?”
“Yes! I did. She called me about eight.” I wasn’t sure how far to go with details.
“Where was she?”
“Driving home. On some country road.”
“But why? Why would she be out in the country?”
“Um—to clear her head.” My voice sounded shaky and I realized this wasn’t the time to hold back anything. “She—um—she’d had a fight with Wyatt.”
“Was he with her?”
“No. She was alone.”
Silence. She finally said, “I know it’s late, but I’m calling his house.”
“Terri,” I blurted before she could ring off. “Please call me when you know something. Please.”
Her voice softened. “I will, honey. My first call will be to you.”
I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee when Mom came downstairs at six-forty the next morning. She was partially dressed for work, having to leave the house by seven to get to her downtown office by eight in heavy Atlanta traffic. “What’s this? I usually have to drag you out of bed.” She looked hard at me. “Are you crying?”
I nodded.
She dropped down beside me. “What’s wrong?”
“Elowyn never came home last night.” Haltingly I told her what I knew.
“Her parents must be frantic,” she said.
“Where could she be?”
Mom smoothed my hair. “Maybe she’s at home by now and Terri’s just waiting for a decent hour to call.”
I shook my head. “She wouldn’t do that to me.”
Mom settled into a chair, took my hands in hers. “It’ll be all right, baby.”
I didn’t believe her. Clutching at her hands, I said, “Mom, please don’t make me go to school today.” Without Elowyn to pick me up, I’d have to ride the bus, and it was due two streets over in fifteen minutes. “I—I can’t sit in school … not knowing … anything.…”
“Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll call Kathy and tell her I won’t be coming in until after lunch.”
“You’ll stay with me?”
“You shouldn’t be alone while you wait to find out what’s happened to your best friend.”
I threw my arms around her and sobbed.
For once I was glad about the cell phone ban at school. I knew the news about Elowyn, about her public blowup with Wyatt, would be all over the building, and since I was her best friend people would be looking to me for details. I only wanted to talk to Terri. Mom and I sat by our phones willing them to ring. When my cell finally rang it was about ten o’clock. I almost jumped out of my skin. I grabbed it and said, “Yes?”
“The police found her in her car this morning,” Terri said dully.
I screamed and Mom stood up and took the phone. She talked quietly, then hung up and said, “They’ve taken her to Emory Medical, neuro ICU. Get in the car.”
The drive to the sprawling medical complex seemed endless and the February day—gray, cloudy, and cold—matched my mood. I didn’t trust myself to talk, but Mom told me what Terri had said, which wasn’t much. “Her car skidded off the road in the rain and hit a ditch. The air bag deployed, but she hit at an angle and didn’t get much protection. A man walking his dog in a field saw the back end of the car sticking up from a ditch. It was lucky he came by because the car couldn’t be seen from the road.” Mom glanced over at me huddled in the corner of her car. “She’s hurt bad, Kassey.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to cover my ears too.
“That’s why she’s at Emory. They’re the best for head injuries.”
Neuro ICU was a giant, dimly lit room behind a glass wall. Machines sat beside every bed and nurses worked as quietly as ghosts, checking IVs and monitors attached to silent, sleeping patients. The central nurses’ station directed us to a family waiting room where we found Terri, her hands covering her face. When Mom spoke, Terri bolted from her chair and hugged her, then me. She smelled like coffee, mints, and fear. I started to cry but made myself stop. Terri didn’t need me to fall apart. “H-how is she? Is she in that room?” I pointed at the glass room down the hall.
“In bed number eight. They only let us in for ten minutes every hour. She’s in a bad way,” Terri said, her voice husky.
Just then, Matt, Elowyn’s dad, walked in with two cups of coffee. He looked haggard and grim.
His skin had a grayish color. “Hey, Kassey … Susan. Would you like some coffee? I don’t mind going down for it. Better than the stuff up here.” He nodded toward a small table with a coffeepot and Styrofoam cups. The stink of burned coffee hung in the air and made my stomach queasy. I hadn’t eaten anything this morning. Mom and I declined his offer.
“What else do you know?” Mom asked.
“In the accident her head was slammed sideways into the glass.”
“My fault,” Matt mumbled. “I shouldn’t have bought her the car.”
Terri took his hand, shushed him. “Don’t say that, honey. It was an accident.”
I remembered how happy Elowyn was with her beautiful new red car.
“Thank God she was wearing her seat belt or she could have been thrown from the car and killed,” Terri said.
I thought back to the times we’d not worn our belts while driving. I wouldn’t do that ever again.
“She has a massive head trauma and a broken foot—the foot probably from applying the brakes,” Matt said. “Some internal bruising from the seat belt, but no other broken bones.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” I asked, hope growing in me.
“Bones heal,” Terri said. “She has a deep brain injury with massive swelling. She’s in a coma. Not so easy to come out of that.”
My hope tumbled. “Can they help her?”
“They’re trying to get the swelling down. It’s not so simple.”
It didn’t seem possible that life could get so topsy-turvy in such a short amount of time. Only yesterday Elowyn and I had been at school laughing in the halls and feeling invincible after volleyball practice, talking about crushing Decatur in Friday night’s match. Only yesterday she’d asked me to go with her to the mall. If I’d gone, she might not have been driving on that stretch of road. I’d have been with her and would have been talking to her, trying to defuse the situation with Wyatt. I should have been with her.
I asked, “Can I see her?”
Terri glanced at my mom. “I’d rather you not go in there today. Maybe tomorrow.”