Kasey was watching my face again. “Did you remember something else?”
“Tori gave out Tootsie pops the night of the party.”
“Yeah, you traded me for purple,” she nodded. “So, do you want me to talk about that night? Or not — or maybe not yet.”
I shrugged. “I dunno.” And I didn’t.
“Wasn’t sure what to say or not say. Should I tone it down a bit? Am I being a little too me? You know, a little too Kasey?”
“No. You’re just right.”
“God, it’s all so horrible, such a mess,” she said. “But you’re starting to remember stuff now, right?”
“Pieces here and there are beginning to come back. It’s like getting punched in the stomach every time.” I looked down at the palm of my hand. The crescent moons were all gone. “It’s been a real treat so far.”
“I’ll bet,” Kasey said softly.
“Yeah. Like I only just remembered that Nate dumped me.”
“What?” She looked stunned. “You didn’t remember that?”
I shook my head.
“Oh Libby. That must totally suck.”
“That’s one way to describe it.” I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples. “But I have to remember. I mean, that’s the only way I’ll know what happened.”
After a moment she asked, “So what do they say? The doctors. Like, about your memory.”
“It has something to do with the head trauma, and that it should eventually come back.” I swallowed down the sickness I felt. “I’m going to be arrested, Kasey.”
“I can’t even imagine …”
“As soon as I’m better, they’re going to take me away, down to the police station,” I choked.
Kasey’s eyes widened. “They won’t keep you, though. They’ll let you go home, right?”
“That’s what they said.” I glanced around my half of the room. “I keep hoping for a complication or something, so I’ll have to stay here longer.”
“An infection,” she said, squinting her eyes. “An infection would be good.”
“Keep your fingers crossed,” I tried to joke. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“I don’t suppose … like … you know what’s going to happen to you?”
“No. I don’t want to know.”
She looked uncomfortable, like she regretted asking. She stood and walked over to the window. “What’s up with all the pink flowers? You hate pink. Looks like someone puked up a bottle of Pepto.”
“Not yours, though,” I pointed out. “And thanks, I love them.”
She was busy reading the cards on the bouquets. “These are all from Cal! Every single one!” “Weird, huh? But nice, I guess.”
“Nah.” She squished up her nose. “There’s something about him, Lib. He’s like some kind of stalker, here all the time. It’s nuts. He doesn’t even know you.”
“Maybe he’s just being —”
“Nice? No.” She crossed her arms. “As far as I’m concerned, he’s as responsible for this whole thing as anyone. He’s the one who was giving you all those drinks.”
I tilted my head. “It’s not like I hadn’t already been drinking. I remember the woods, sharing your vodka.” I could see the ice cream container, that bright pink pulp floating on the surface and I shuddered.
“Yeah, but we had a plan. Drink early so we’d be sober by the time we went home.”
“Right,” I sighed. “The plan.” If we stop by nine, and down a ton of water, we should be okay. “If only I’d stuck to the plan.”
“He knew how much you had. Then he let you drive! I’d never
have done that.”
I could tell she felt guilty and I didn’t want her to. “I know. I
know you wouldn’t have.”
“And now he’s out there, sitting on his ass, playing the role of devoted boyfriend or something. Which, I might add, he isn’t. Oh, and all the nurses think he’s so adorable. I don’t care how great looking he is, or thinks he is — he’s a total dick.”
“Kasey, you think everyone’s a dick.”
“I’ll let the record speak for itself. Josh, Kevin, those two guys we met at band camp, Nate, and now Cal.”
“Well yeah, I’ll give you the others. But it’s not fair to say that about Cal. I think it’s kind of amazing he’s spending all his time waiting to see me. He must have better things to do.” She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to let him visit?”
“I kind of owe him.”
“You don’t owe him anything,” Kasey scoffed.
“Kasey. He basically saved my life.”
“You wouldn’t have had to have your life saved if it wasn’t for him,” she mumbled.
Wanting to change the subject I asked, “Um, so what are people saying?” I picked at a loose thread on my bed sheet and began winding it around my finger.
“Oh, you know …” She avoided eye contact. “Once a new scandal surfaces, they’ll forget all about you.”
I watched my fingertip turn from red to blue. I doubted it. My scandal was only beginning, with the worst still to come. They’d have a lot to talk about, for a long time.
Kasey glanced at her watch. “Crap. I gotta bolt. If I miss any more classes, I’m dead.”
“Thanks for coming.” I didn’t want her to go. I couldn’t believe how good it felt to see her, to talk to her.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, promise,” she whispered into my hair. She pulled back and looked at me intently. “I know this isn’t going to sound the way I mean it, or it’s going to come out wrong, but this sort of thing’s happened to other people before, and they survived. It’s going to totally suck for a while, but you’re going to live through this.”
Nodding, I watched her leave.
She stopped at the door and turned. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
I unwound the thread. I didn’t believe her.
Chapter 6
When Mom came back with her coffee, I didn’t tell her about Kasey’s visit. If she knew I’d let Kasey in after I’d told her I didn’t want to see anyone, she might insist on bringing in Emma. Mom was probably having a hell of a time, though, constantly telling her she couldn’t see me. I knew what Emma was like — the most determined eight-year-old that ever lived. But I didn’t want her to see me like this. I didn’t want to scare her. “I brought you an apple fritter, just in case,” Mom said, holding up a small brown paper bag. “Want to try a couple of bites?”
“I don’t think my stomach’s ready for that kind of thing yet.” The thought of eating pretty much grossed me out.
Her face fell. “I know. You’re absolutely right. It’s because they looked so fresh, and I know how you love them.”
I smiled as brightly as I could. “Maybe leave it, though. I might pick at it later or something.”
That seemed to perk her up. She sat down, peeled the lid off her coffee, and blew into the cup.
“Ew, Mom. Could you …?”
“Oh. Sorry.” She replaced the lid and set her coffee on the floor beside her chair.
There was something about coffee — the taste, especially the smell. I couldn’t stand it. Dad always joked that it was because all Mom had craved during pregnancy was coffee milkshakes from Dairy Queen. She’d had one practically every day. She’d also gained over fifty pounds.
Mom was extra quiet for the rest of the day. I wondered if she was a little ticked at me about not letting Emma visit. Then I began to worry that whoever I’d hit had taken a turn for the worse and she didn’t want to tell me. But there was no way I could bring myself to ask again. It was one more question that I didn’t want the answer to.
THERE WAS NO PEACE for me that night, no escape. My nightmares were more intense than usual. It seemed like I was jerked awake every few minutes, terrorized by things only I could see but couldn’t explain. Things like the windshield wipers going so fast they were almost invisible. A weight pinning me down so I couldn�
�t move no matter how hard I fought. Screams — I thought they were my own. But there were other screams too. And faces, they felt familiar, though I wasn’t totally sure. From nowhere, an unknown face, an old face. Noises so loud they made my heart stop. Then things strangely out of place — beer foam spreading across the floor, a repetitive squeak as if from a tiny mouse, the jungle gym at my old elementary school.
Trina was always there. She would speak softly and soothe me back into a restless sleep until the next nightmare came along.
As dawn filtered in through the curtains, I traced the outline of the stain on the ceiling, trying to calm the panic inside. I touched my face — wet. My pillow — cold and damp. I’d been crying. Now I knew why.
Trina came in carrying a breakfast tray. “You had one rough night.”
I didn’t say anything.
“You okay, Libby?”
“My dream,” I said in a raspy voice. “I saw it in my dream. I think I remembered.”
Her eyes grew wide. She set the tray down and came to my bedside. “What did you see?”
“Him.”
“Who?”
I couldn’t answer. I just kept shaking my head back and forth.
She put her hand on my shoulder. “Who did you see, Libby?”
“I saw the man,” I sobbed. “His face. Right in front of me. Right before the car hit him.”
She looked at me, her brow furrowed. Then she let out a tiny, “Oh.”
“It was so real.” I rolled away from her, curling myself into a ball despite my body screaming at me to stop. “I remember now.”
Trina didn’t say anything. I felt her pull the blanket up, tuck it under my chin. I turned back towards her, something occurring to me. “I think I saw you too. I don’t know why.”
She thought for a second. “That makes sense. You were having such terrible nightmares. I was in here practically all night.”
I nodded, fresh tears streaming down my face, and rolled away again.
The fading squeak of her shoes told me she’d left.
Chapter 7
Mom was sitting beside my bed when I woke up. Her hand was resting on my arm. I shrugged it off and slid my body over. If she was trying to comfort me, I didn’t want it. I didn’t deserve it.
After everyone had found out I’d remembered something major — something about the actual accident — there was a flurry of activity. Mom, Dad, Dr. Murray, some other doctor, all of them asking me what I’d seen in my dream. Then they would all huddle together, looking serious, speaking in hushed voices.
I kept waiting for the detectives to show up again, but they didn’t.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Is there something wrong? Something you’re not telling me?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Everyone keeps … looking at me.”
“I don’t know wh—”
I turned to face her. “Did the man die?”
She frowned and stared at me like she was trying to see inside my head. “No, Libby. No he didn’t.”
“Well, do you know anything about him? His name even? Or if they think he’s going to get better?”
“We’re not family, Libby. They won’t give us that kind of information,” she said, smoothing out then tightly re-tucking my bedsheets.
My legs felt trapped and I tugged on the sheets. “I really hate this, not remembering how I got here.” I kept tugging until they were all loose again. “Mom, do you think I should see Cal? Maybe he can help me.”
“Oh, I don’t know Libby. That’s probably not such a great idea.”
“But I want to. He was there. He knows.”
I waited for her to change her mind and agree with me, but she kept shooting looks back over her shoulder, like she was hoping for a distraction, or for someone to walk in. Why didn’t she think it was a great idea? Then it dawned on me. Of course: now they knew he’d fed me those drinks and then let me get behind the wheel. No doubt Kasey had added her two cents as well.
“I could have said no,” I mumbled.
It was as if she just remembered I was in the room. “What?”
“It wasn’t Cal’s fault. I could have said no.”
She leaned back in the chair. “I know. I know you could have said no.”
“And he did sort of save my life, didn’t he?”
Mom didn’t have much of an argument now. “I don’t want you to see him alone.”
“Please. It’s going to be hard enough. I don’t need an audience.” Again I waited. I could tell she was thinking, debating.
“I saw him earlier,” she sighed. “I’ll … I’ll find him.”
“Ask him if he can come after lunch,” I told her.
“But I have parent-teacher at Emma’s school,” she said in a worried voice.
“That’s all right. I’ll be fine.”
She fiddled with her bracelet and didn’t say anything.
“Mom. What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t think you should talk about the accident, okay? Not yet.”
“But how am I supposed to remember if I can’t talk about it to the only person who knows? Shouldn’t I at least try?”
“The doctor says to let it happen naturally, not to force it.” Frustrated, I crossed my arms.
“That’s the deal, Libby.”
“Fine.”
“I’m going to have to talk to him first.”
“Talk to him? Why do you have to talk to him?”
“Because. Because … I haven’t even met the boy,” she said, gathering up her coat and purse. “And I think I’ll see if Trina might be around …”
As I watched her walk out, I felt my body tense. What was she going to say to him? I couldn’t begin to imagine that conversation. He’s probably going to change his mind about visiting. I lay there stewing for a few minutes. But the more I stewed, the more I began to think Mom might be right. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea. Why was I in such a big hurry to remember everything? I already knew it couldn’t be anything but horrible.
I glanced at the clock: 11:42. Should I call it off ? No. The least I can do is say thank you. Then he could stop hanging around the hospital and actually have a life.
Instead of worrying about what Mom was going to say to him, I should be worrying about what I was going to say to him. My stomach was in knots. If only it were Nate instead — Nate who had been staking out the waiting room. I got that stabbing feeling in my heart again. But there had been nothing from him, not a word, only Cal.
I kept checking the clock every two minutes. What time would he consider “after lunch”?
The flowers came around the curtain first. Pink. Cal’s head popped out from behind the bouquet. “I know I’m early. But I couldn’t wait any longer.” He smiled a spectacular smile.
“Th-that’s okay.” My heart was beating so loudly it seemed to cancel out my voice. He was way better looking in person than in my fuzzy memories, like he’d just walked off the cover of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalogue. I motioned towards the chair. “Do you want to sit?” I noticed he had a few yellow bruises, some kind of bandage wrapped around his hand and wrist.
He sat down and noisily slid the chair over until it touched the bed. “Finally,” he breathed.
“Um … yeah. I know you’ve been waiting long. I wasn’t really up to any visitors.”
“I understand,” he nodded. “I only thought … I mean, after everything we’ve been through …”
He had a point. I guess we did sort of share a kind of bond. “Sorry. Probably should have let you come sooner.”
“It’s okay. You can make it up to me later.” He flashed his blinding white teeth again and squeezed my hand. His touch sent a current, like electricity, flickering through my entire body.
My cheeks were burning. “Right.”
“Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “I got you something.” He jumped up, pulled out a box from beneath the flowers he’d put on the table, and pla
ced it on my lap.
“You really shouldn’t buy me gifts, and the flowers … It’s all too much,” I gushed, feeling embarrassed and looking away. “It should be me buying you gifts.”
“Don’t sweat it.” Gently, he lifted my chin. “Really. No worries.”
He stared at me. I could feel it, like a pinging on my skin. It was all very confusing. Why was I reacting like this? Wasn’t I still broken-hearted over Nate?
“And in case I haven’t said so,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, “you’re healing up nicely ... I mean, considering the last time I saw you …”
Our eyes met. My breath caught in my throat.
“Don’t mind me!” Trina’s voice rang out as she came into the room. “Pretend I’m not here.”
Startled, we pulled away from each other and wordlessly watched Trina fuss around the room.
It didn’t seem like she was leaving anytime soon.
“I wanted to thank you,” I whispered to Cal. “If I’d been by myself … well … I know you called 911 … So yeah, thank you.”
He gave my hand another squeeze. “Open your present.”
I pulled off the lid. Inside was something soft and pink. It was a scarf.
Taking it out and draping it around my shoulders, he said, “It’s one of those pashmina things you wrap around your neck a bunch of times.”
“Nice,” Trina piped up.
I shot her a look then turned to Cal. “Thanks,” I said.
“Do you like the colour? I had a feeling you were all about pink.”
It was an unusual shade, almost mauve. Maybe pink wasn’t so bad after all. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’ll take you out when you’re sprung so you can show it off.”
I glanced down at my cast, thought about the police, thought about the man I’d hit. “I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere for a long time.”
“Everything’s going to work out.”
“Wish I could believe that.” My words came out shaky.
“At least we’re in this together.”
“But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Live to Tell Page 4