Page 132 of What If I See You

But she’s not here.

Trying not to look like a crazed idiot, I stretch my hand and shake out my fingers like I was having a spasm or something and then put my hand in my pocket.

“Griffin.” Marlee glances at her phone. “They life-flighted your brother to Memorial Hospital in L.A.”

L.A.?

It’ll take me too long to get there with all the fucking traffic.

What if he doesn’t make it?

What if I don’t get to see him before…

“Griffin, I have a friend who is going to fly you there,” Coach tells me. “His name is Dan and he’s got time in his schedule this morning to fly you up there.” He turns to gesture to the incoming helicopter landing on the helicopter pad about two to three hundred yards away. “That’s him now.”

“He can get you to one of the smaller local landing strips, and then I’ll have a driver waiting to get you to Memorial Hospital. Don’t worry about a thing. We’re getting you there, okay?”

“Thank you. Truly. I appreciate it very much.” I glance back at Coach Hicks and shake my head. “Coach, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ll miss?—”

“What have I always said to you guys, Ollenberg?” He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “Family first.” He gestures with his head toward the helicopter. “Go do what you have to do. Keep me informed when you can.”

I nod and shake Coach’s hand. “I will. And thank you again.”

And with that I’m sprinting as fast as I fucking can to the helicopter praying my brother is alive and pleading with whatever holy or spiritual being that might be listening to keep him alive. Dan jumps down from inside the helicopter long enough to give me my instructions on where to sit, how to strap in, and what to do. I acknowledge his instructions and then hold up my finger asking him to give me a minute. And then I jog about fifty feet away and vomit the contents of my stomach onto the ground.

I can’t lose my brother.

Gagey. I need you to be strong, bud.

I love you so goddamn much.

Hang in there. Do you hear me?

Please for the love of fucking Christ, hear me.

I’m coming Gage!

Dan is waiting with a few napkins and a bottle of water when I walk back to the helicopter.

“Thanks,” I shout above the noise.

“Sure thing.” He nods to me. “I promise I’ll get you there as fast as I can.”

I twist open the bottled water, take a large swig and swish it around in my mouth and spit it out beside me. Then I take another swig and swallow it down before locking eyes with Dan. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“Internal injuries?”My brows arch as Mom and Dad try to answer my questions. I bring my hand to my forehead pushing my hair up as I try to comprehend the entire last hour of this day. “What the fuck happened?”

“He was T-boned,” Dad explains. “He and Mallory were on their way to their weekly social group meet at the YMCA.” Dad shakes his head, his eyes darkened, his face sullen. This morning has clearly taken a toll. He’s not the rosy-cheeked easy-going man I know him to be. “They said it was a drunk driver. Some twenty-year old kid driving ridiculously too fast in town. Blew through a stop sign and rammed right into Gage. The kid’s truck hit on Gage’s side of the car.”

Oh, God.

“Mallory,” I repeat the name, bringing my hands to my hips. “You said Mallory was with him? Is she okay? Is she here too?”

Mom shakes her head. “No. Mallory wasn’t seriously hurt since she was on the passenger side. They took her to County General back at home I think. Her parents were heading there. I half expect to see them here at some point but not until she gets checked out to make sure she’s okay. They said she had some minor scrapes and bruises, but that’s it.”

I glance around the empty waiting room feeling like the walls are closing in on me. My muscles tighten and I fold my body over, clenching my fists and squeezing my eyes closed.

“Fuck!” I shout, fixating on all the worst-case scenarios that float through my mind.

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