Page 83 of False God

“You don’t know the answer to that.”

He relaxes a little, making me realize how tense he was before. “I don’t think you have a concussion.”

I relax too, relieved. “Great. I really didn’t want to go to?—”

“We’re going to the hospital, Lili.”

“What? Youjustsaid I’m fine. Slap a couple of Band-Aids on my arm, and I’ll change into another dress.”

This one is ruined, ripped and stained, which makes me more emotional than it should. Shock maybe. Not only do I love this dress, but it’s one my mom designed. One that matches two of my best friends’ and will be in all the photos of Chloe’s wedding.

“I said Idon’t thinkyou have a concussion, not that you’re fine, so we’re going to find out for sure.”

I groan. “Charlie …”

“Are you walking, or do you need me to carry you?”

“You’re overreacting.” I stand slowly, ignoring the hand he offers, hiding the flinch of pain in the hopes that he’ll change his mind.

“We’ll see. Let’s go.”

He’s planning to come with me, I realize. Which is not the direction I saw this evening taking. I thought he’d walk out here and tell me some Tylenol and Neosporin should do the trick.

I can’t decide if Charlie accompanying me is a good or bad idea. His presence is reassuring, and he’ll know how to navigate a foreign health-care system I have no experience with.

But I’m … embarrassed that he’s seeing me like this. I want him to see me as confident and sexy and capable. Not as a clumsy, foolish, tipsy mess.

“You don’t need to come with me,” I tell him.

Charlie doesn’t bother replying. He’s zipping up the first aid bag and tossing the gauze he used in the trash can.

“Here.” Bridget hands me a pair of plastic flip-flops. “Chloe got those for anyone wanting to change out of heels.”

I didn’t even notice her duck inside.

“Thank you,” I say, stepping out of my heels and slipping the flip-flops on instead. They’re a little big, but not too bad. And a lot more comfortable than Louboutins.

Cal appears beside me. “Do you want him to take you?” he asks quietly.

I bite my lip. Nod.

He exhales. “Do you want me to come too?”

It’s a genuine offer, and it means a lot. It’s a caring gesture from my friend Cal, not my ex-boyfriend–slash–safe harbor.

“I’m good, Cal. Thanks.” I squeeze his arm with my uninjured hand, trying to silently convey how much I appreciate the offer.

Tripp is sidling up to Charlie. “Lili doesn’t need a chauffeur.”

Charlie’s jaw flexes as he hands the first aid kit to Fran. She offered to bring it back inside. “You want her to drive herself to the hospital?”

“No, of course not. But one of herfriendswill go with her.”

Animosity is suddenly humming in the evening air. Mostly emanating from Tripp, who’s normally one of the most easygoing people I know.

Charlie raises one eyebrow. “Know a lot about intracranial hematomas, do you?”

“Throw around as many medical terms as you want, man. But if you think I’m going to let Lili go off with you while she’s injured and?—”

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