Page 152 of Twisted Collide

“You were in the parking lot. I guess you and Dane got into a fight, and you fell. He called an ambulance.”

Mind racing. Pieces come together like a puzzle.

We didn’t fight. He would have had to talk to me to fight. But that must have been the story he told my father.

What else did he tell him?

Did he tell him I wanted to make him smile? But he was too stubborn, too set in his own self-loathing to let me in.

That he said no.

He most likely told a lie, one where it was his fault I fell.

It wasn’t.

I knew it was dangerous, and it was my fault for believing he would be there to catch me.

That’s not on him; it’s on me.

He said no.

And now I know where I stand.

My heart feels heavy, and I tremble with unshed tears. I want to cry. I can feel my heart wanting to break. I just don’t want to break in front of my dad.

I want to be strong.

The tears win out and splash against my cheek.

My father rushes to my side, taking my hand in his. “You’re okay. It’s going to be okay,” he says. “The doctors said you’re going to be fine. You can go home tomorrow, and from there you just need to rest. A little R and R.”

I can feel the tears welling in my eyes.

My father pulls up a chair and sits next to me. There’s so much I want to tell him.

But can I?

As I move to open my mouth and unburden myself, a sound rings through the air.

A phone.Not mine.

My father rummages through his pocket and pulls his cell out, lifting it to his ear. “Hi, Vivian.”

My mother.

Why is she calling him?

Me.

She’s calling about me.

He doesn’t have to say it, but I know it’s true.

“Yes. She’s right here. Yes, of course.” He pulls his phone from his ear.

Before he even asks, I’m already nodding, a hand outstretched.The moment I place the phone to my ear, I’m greeted by her soft cries.

“Mom.”