Page 1 of Devoted

Prologue

Jess

Age Fifteen

“Are you ready for school to start next week?” My mom glances back at me in the rearview mirror of our car as we drive to the restaurant she let me pick for dinner, my younger sister sitting beside me. It’s a warm summer night in Portland, Oregon, and I can’t wait to sink my teeth into Dickie’s Barbecue ribs.

“Absolutely. I hate summer vacation. I always end up so bored by the end of it.” Truth be told, I’m more excited about using my new planner and folders I have to start the new year, along with the new multi-colored pens that match. Buying new school supplies gives me a high that other girls must get when they purchase new clothes.

“I will finally be an eighth grader too,” my sister, Katelyn, adds beside me.

My dad turns around in his seat to face me. “Both of my girls are growing up too fast. And Jess, at least you aren’t a freshman anymore. I remember how annoying it was to be the low guy on the totem pole.”

“Yeah. All the seniors snicker at you as you walk by. It freaking pisses me off, especially since I’m way more mature than my classmates.” And I’m not just saying that to sound conceited. It’s the truth. I’ve always been more intellectually developed than my friends my own age. Honestly, I can’t wait for college so I can be surrounded by people that genuinely want to be there and take their education seriously like I do. And hopefully the boys are more mature as well. These high school boys are annoying as hell.

“You’ve always had an old soul,” my mother adds right before the screech of tires and crunch of metal to my right causes my mom to slam on the brakes of the car and all four of us to turn in that direction. As if in slow motion, a truck skids across the asphalt and slams into a telephone pole, while an older model SUV flips through the air three times before landing several feet away from the site of the collision, further down the street.

You see accidents on TV and in movies, but nothing prepares you for witnessing the real thing, that sound that you’ll never forget hitting your ears.

“Jesus Christ, Will. Quick, dial 9-1-1,” my mother commands as she turns down the street where the cars have smoke coming from under their hoods, the SUV resting on its roof.

As my mother contemplates what we should do, I don’t waste one second answering the innate feeling I get to run to the scene and help, my hand already on the door handle, pulling it towards me.

“Jess! What are you doing?” My mother shouts while my father speaks on the phone.

Then my sister starts to panic as well. “Jess, don’t go! It’s not safe.”

But I don’t stop to listen as I jump from the car, racing over to the turmoil. I can hear screaming coming from inside the SUV just as a man shoves open the door of the truck that smashed into the pole, his body hunched over like he’s in pain.

“Help! Please help us!” The woman’s voice is frantic and high-pitched, her panic evident in how wide her eyes are as I approach her door and assess her position. Her head is tilted to the side even though she’s upside down. But considering how mangled her car is, she doesn’t look too bad. I’m not a doctor by any means, but I’ve watched enough Grey’s Anatomy to get a sense of life-threatening injuries. And the fact that she’s alert and talking is an excellent sign. I don’t see any large open wounds either, just a few scrapes and bruises on her arms and face.

“Ma’am, my name is Jessalyn. My parents called an ambulance and they’re on their way. Are you alone in the car?”

“No! My son… he’s in the back. Please check on him! He hasn’t answered me since the car stopped rolling.”

I stand from my crouched position at her window and move towards the back of the vehicle, anxious for what I’ll find, but knowing that each second here counts. Through the shattered glass of the window, I see a small boy that can’t be older than eight lying slightly sideways along the seat, his seat belt digging into his shoulder as he hunches over to the side, his entire body inverted.

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Jordan. Is he okay?”

“Jordan,” I say loudly in his ear, ignoring his mom because I don’t want to tell her he’s still unconscious. All I know is that the paramedics will be here shortly and I want to make sure he’s alive when they get here. “Jordan, wake up.” I reach into the car to stroke my hand carefully along his forehead, brushing back his hair matted down with blood leaking from a cut above his eyebrow. Suddenly, his eyes are fluttering open and dark brown irises meet my grey ones. “What… what happened? Where’s… where’s my mom?”

“Jordan! I’m right here, honey! Are you okay?” His mother calls from the front seat as the sirens echo in the distance, growing louder as they close in on the scene.

“My head hurts… everything hurts.”

“You were in an accident, Jordan. It’s gonna be alright, though. The ambulance is on their way.” I smile at the boy sincerely, trying to comfort him in this dire situation, even though my heart is racing as I hear my parents call out to me in the distance.

“Jess! Get over here! What are you doing?”

“I’m not leaving them!” I yell back, turning to flash them a look so they know I’m serious.

“The emergency personnel are here! Let them do their jobs,” my mother hollers back at me.

“Please,” the little boy cries, reaching for my hand as best he can, our fingers interlocking as I meet him halfway. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I will stay as long as you need me, okay? I know you’re scared, but I promise I’m here as long as they let me stay. Everything is going to be alright.” I hate saying those words because I don’t know that they’re true, but my gut is telling me to remain rooted where I am, reassuring this little boy that his entire world isn’t upside down even though he is.

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