Page 28 of Magnetic God

“Brooks!”

“This is Brooks. I can’t get to my phone right now, so leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

I curse. I’ve always hated his voicemail, now more so than ever. The phone beeps, and I have to swallow twice before I can speak.

“It’s Hannah. Please call me as soon as you get this.”

My voice breaks on the last word, and I end the call before he can hear me crying.

I glance at Jess’ apartment and see her shadow in the window. Crap! I need to get out of here before she convinces me to stay. Nothing is going to be right until I talk to Brooks, and I don’t want to hear any speculation from Jess in the meantime. God knows my mind is jumping to enough conclusions on its own.

Wiping my tears, I start my car and drive across town to the dorm.

Each moment that passes is torture.

I’m distracted, looking at my phone as if that will make him call.

Why hasn’t he called?

If this is a mistake, then surely he knows that I’ll hear him out.

Right?

I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise when a horn blares, making me gasp as I look up.

The last thing I see are headlights coming right at me and then the crunching sound of metal.

There’s pain, and then there’s nothing.

Everything hurts.

That’s what wakes me—the pain.

I have to blink several times before I get my eyes to focus. White walls and the sterile scent only found in a hospital confirm my thoughts. I’m in the hospital. Memories of what happened come crashing back. Crashing. Ha. Isn’t my brain just hilarious right now?

The TV segment about Brooks…and his wife.

Leaving Jess’ house.

Waiting for Brooks to call…

Crashing into the truck.

“You’re awake.” My mom stands. “Thank god. We’ve been so worried. Your father is getting me some coffee.”

He’s not my father. The words almost leave my lips, but don’t. I’m too tired to fight that fight today, but I do wonder if she let my actual dad know that I was in an accident. Probably not, which means I’ll need to let him know.

I ask, “How bad is it?”

“The car’s totaled. You’re going to have to rely on classmates until you can find a replacement.”

Of course she expects me to find something. It’s not like she’ll help me. She never has. Heck, I’m surprised she’s even here, to be honest. We must be at the hospital she works at. It’s the only thing that makes sense why she’s here.

“That’s fair,” I answer. “It was my fault.”

“What happened? The other driver said you were looking down when you crossed into his lane.”

My cheeks are warm, which is a shocking contrast to the icy coldness I feel everywhere else.

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