Page 1 of Starstruck
PROLOGUE
Three Months Earlier
October
“UNSTEADY” BY X AMBASSADORS
The eggshell-white walls, the smell of bleach lingering in the room, and the crackle of a nurse’s voice over the PA system—everything about Mount Sinai Hospital is the same as any other.
But I have this one memorized.
Thisis the hospital where my whole life changed.
It baffles me that four walls can hold the happiest memories for some people and the most devastating ones for others.
For me, it holds both.
This is where I was diagnosed with a rare form of childhood leukemia when I was six years old. From doctor’s visits to surgeries to experimental procedures, I spent nearly eight years in and out of this hospital. Sometimes it was only for a day or two; other times, it would be for months. And because of that, I know it like the back of my hand.
So many tears have been shed within these four walls. Not just sad ones, but happy ones too—because it was also in this hospital where I was told I was in remission, just a fewweeks shy of my fourteenth birthday.
That’s what today is—the ten-year anniversary of that moment. It’s still, to this day, the best moment of my life.
Today is the absolute worst.
Except it isn’t because of a checkup or treatment or cancer. No, today is turning out to be much worse than any of those things. It’s beating out every single day of those eight years and every single day since then that I’ve spent here.
Because as of today, this is also the hospital my mom, my dad, and I were brought to after being in a car accident. It’s where I currently lie in a hospital bed, just like the ones I spent my childhood in, while my older siblings and I wait to hear whether or not our parents are alive.
My left arm is in a cast, and my pale-white skin is now littered in bruises. The windshield shattered when my car rolled, sending glass everywhere, so there are also stitches up the right side of my body. The doctor told me I have a concussion, along with a few fractured ribs from the pressure of the airbag and the seatbelt tugging on my chest. An IV in my right arm feeds me painkillers, though they definitely aren’t helping dull the ache in my chest.
“How are you holding up?” Dylan, my brother, asks gruffly.
He’s the protector of our family. As the oldest child and only son, he surpasses every expectation society sets about the kind of man he should be. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders and a constant dark cloud hanging over him, but he’s also the most loyal person I’ve ever met—almost to a fault. He would do anything to make sure the people he loves are safe and happy. If it came to it, he would take a bullet for all of us.
“I’m fine,” I rasp numbly. I’m in too much shock to give a deeper answer.
“You know it’s okay if you aren’t, right?” my older sister, Paige, says.
My sister has been the calm in every storm our family has faced. She’s the one we all turn to for advice, and she somehowmanages to find a way to stay positive no matter what’s happening around us. Sunshine radiates from her. She cares more for others than she does herself, even though it may hurt her in the process. There’s no one better at keeping the peace in the chaos of our family. She’s the strongest person I know—the glue that holds our family together.
Without her, we would’ve fallen apart long before now.
How she’s still holding her head high and keeping a smile on her face in a time like this—even if it is just for show—I’ll never understand, but I’m grateful for it. She’s the light we need right now.
“I know,” I tell her. “But all things considered, I really am okay.” It’s a lie—I’m nowhere near okay. Not physically, and definitely not mentally. But I don’t need them worrying about me right now when I’m alive and our parents may not be.
“And you know it’s not your fault?” Dylan probes, a growl in his tone.
“Sure,” I tell him with a nod. Though it sure as hell feels like it is.
I might not have been the one who caused the accident, but it’s my fault they were in my car. I offered to drive them home rather than letting them use theirvery safecar service with thevery protectivedriver.
It’s my fault they were even out tonight, with it being the tenth anniversary of my remission.
Deep down, I know I didn’t cause the accident. The other driver hit us, and this could’ve happened whether they were with me or not.
But that doesn’t change the fact that they were, and for that, I feel like I’m to blame. No matter what my siblings tell me, I will continue blaming myself. Probably for the rest of my life.
