Page 91 of One of Them Girls

“Hospital? Why are you going to the hospital?” I frown, watching her retreat.

“Because that’s where Xavier is and someone needs to sit with Jack,” she says over her shoulder.

I scramble, grabbing my bag and chasing after her. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. Jack left me a message when I was in class. I didn’t get it until I got out. All he said was Xavier was in an accident and he was on his way to Memorial. I got it about forty minutes after he left it, then spent the last hour trying to find you.”

“Is he okay?” I ask as we rush down the stairs.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if Jack knows. I tried to call him back, but it went to voicemail.” She shrugs as we make it outside. “Hopefully we know more when we get there.”

I let her lead me to her car. I pull up my phone and type out a quick text to Xavier, asking if he’s okay and to please call me. I’m praying he responds, but the longer he goes without answering, the more my heart drops.

If he’s not answering, it means he can’t answer.

A small part is still hoping he’s ignoring me, but I know in my heart that he wouldn’t.

By the time we make it to the hospital, my anxiety is through the roof. I barely wait for the car to stop before I’m out the door. Rebecca is hot on my trail, following behind me.

I rush to the desk, barely stopping as I crash into it.

“Excuse me, one of our friends was brought in a while ago because of an accident. Xavier Walsh,” Rebecca tells the lady behind the desk calmly.

“Are you family?”

I consider lying, but don’t want to be called out.

“No,” I rasp.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t give you any information then.”

My heart seizes in my chest. “Please.” I feel my eyes prickling with tears. “Please tell me something. I’m begging you.”

Her eyes waver. “You’re his girlfriend?” she says in a way that tells me she’s trying to help me out here. “You should have started with that.”

“Sorry, she’s a mess. Yes, she’s his girlfriend.”

“Let me see.” She taps away at her keyboard. “Well, I can’t tell you anything about his condition, but I can tell you what waiting room to go to. Go up to the second floor. On the right, you will see a waiting room for the surgical unit.”

“He’s in surgery?” I screech.

The nurse’s eyes shift to the security guard as he walks closer. She gives a subtle shake of her head.

“Honey, I suggest you go to the waiting room and when the doctor comes out, you tell them exactly who you are.” She gives me a knowing look. “They can tell you more.”

“Come on,” Rebecca says under her breath, pulling my arm. “Thank you,” she tells the lady.

The lady gives me a sympathetic smile as I’m pulled away.

Rebecca drags me into the elevator as I feel the panic building inside my chest.

No. No. Not again. I can’t.

“Breathe,” she demands, pushing me to the floor before shoving my head down between my legs.

“Surgery isn’t good, Becca,” I whimper, tears filling my eyes.

“Stop thinking the worst. He needs all the positive thoughts and prayers he can get,” she chastises.

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