by Ann Herrick
We pulled out onto the main road. There was a red Audi a little way ahead of us. It was going kind of slow, so it wasn't too long before we caught up with it. "That looks like Todd," I said.
"Party over so soon?"
I checked the time again. It was a little over an hour since we'd left the party, but it wasn't quite midnight yet. "It is kind of early, but maybe it wasn't exactly fun for Todd after Marcy went off with Brad."
"And then you so graciously dumped him ."
"I didn't really—Eeek!"
A deer flashed out from nowhere, right in front of Todd's car. There was a squeal of brakes. No time for Todd to stop. He slowed a little, but no way could he avoid hitting the deer. His car spun around and slid off the road.
It crashed into a tree.
Lucky for us, Keeley was able to slow down and pull over safely. "Check on Todd!" Keeley said. "I'll call 9-1-1!"
Gulping furiously, I hopped out and ran ahead. As I approached Todd's car, he moaned. He's alive. I heard what must've been a cry of relief escape my own lips.
Todd sat with his hands still on the steering wheel. I didn't smell any alcohol. I didn't see any blood on him. But the front left side of the car was smashed in. My hand shook as I touched his shoulder. "Todd."
"What? Who?" Todd turned his head toward me. "Sivia …?"
"It-it'll be okay, Todd. K-keeley's calling 9-1-1. Everything will be … be okay." I hoped that was true.
"My leg. It hurts." Todd reached down and touched his left leg. Most of it was not visible. The front of the car was crumpled around it. "I can't move it. I can't get out."
"Don't try," I said. "It's probably better not to move."
Suddenly, Todd passed out. I think. Omigod. I leaned close. He was breathing. I grabbed his wrist. Whew. There's a pulse. It felt kind of slow, though. "Come on, Todd. You'll be okay." I heard sirens. "Help is on the way!"
I felt Todd's pulse quicken. He started to wake up.
"Is he okay?" It was Keeley, heading toward us, his wheelchair crunching over some gravel on the side of the road.
"I-I think he fainted or something."
"Huh? What?" Todd blinked. "Where …?"
A siren screamed. The ambulance pulled over, and right behind it, a police car, then a fire truck.
Paramedics raced over to Todd. "He's alert!"
They immediately took charge and directed Keeley and me over to the police car.
"What happened?" the officer asked. "Was there another car involved?"
"No," Keeley said. "We were right behind him. A deer jumped in front of his car." Keeley pointed to the poor unfortunate deer that’d landed near some shrubs at the side of the road. "There was no time for him to stop."
"Was he speeding?"
"No," I said. "In fact, he might have even been going a little under the speed limit."
"Prior to the accident, was he swerving? Any signs of erratic driving?"
"No," Keeley said. "Nothing like that. There was no warning. The deer just jumped out from that grove of trees."
After a few more questions, the officer took our names and phone numbers and told us we could go.
Keely and I watched as the firefighters cut open the front of Todd's car in order to free him. Paramedics tended to Todd even as they eased him onto a stretcher and wheeled him over to the ambulance. Todd tried to sit up, but the paramedics made him lie down again. It'd seemed like hours, but must've been only minutes since the emergency crews had arrived on the scene.
Keeley and I approached one of the firefighters as he was putting away the cutter used to free Todd from his car. "How is he?" Keeley asked.
"He's fully conscious. Good thing he used his seatbelt and his car's airbags deployed," the firefighter said. "A compound fracture of the left leg, beyond that he's in really good shape."
My stomach flip-flopped. "A …compound … is that … serious?"
"It could be dangerous." The firefighter wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "He's in good hands, though."
"Oh. Thanks." I felt as though I had a rock on my chest.
Next thing, Keeley and I were left by the side of the road as lights flashed and sirens shrieked when the rescue crews pulled away.
"What do you think?" I said to Keeley. "Should we go to the hospital?"
"I don't know." Keeley shrugged. "It's late. If he has surgery, who knows how long it would take. We probably couldn't see him at this time of night anyway."
"We could check on him tomorrow. Maybe go see him, if he can have visitors," I suggested. Funny, I just said "we" without even thinking about it.
"Sounds like a plan," Keeley said. "Meanwhile, I'd better get you home."
"Yeah." I called my mother. She was frantic until she realized I wasn't in an accident. Then she geared down to being worried about Todd.
Keeley and I didn't say much on the way home. I tried to block out the vision of Todd's car crashing into the tree.
"Here we are."
I opened my eyes. We were in my driveway. "Oh. Thanks for the ride and everything …."
"Sure. Any time."
"I hope Todd will be okay."
"Yeah, me too." Keeley sounded tired.
I wondered if I should kiss him goodnight? Or would he kiss of me? Why was I thinking of kissing at a time like this?
The moment passed.
No kiss.
It was probably just as well. I guess. "Goodnight ...."
"Bye." Keeley gave me a friendly smile, but that was it.
I waited until he pulled out of the driveway, then I went in the house. Mom was waiting up for me. We talked for a few minutes. The way she looked at me, I felt as if she was counting all my fingers and toes and ears, making sure for herself that I was okay. Then Mom went to bed and I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Maybe that ritual would get me in the mood for sleep.
I was concerned about Todd, I hoped his leg would be okay, but my mind kept going back to Keeley. Maybe he hadn't really meant to kiss me down by the river. Maybe he was just trying to … comfort me. I mean, I think I was the one who'd really turned it into a kiss. I wasn't even sure why.
I went to my room and plopped down on my bed. This entire evening was definitely a situation that required an emergency call to Ilana.
Chapter Eight
I held my breath.
"Hello?"
"Ilana! It's me. Hope I didn't wake you."
"No, I just got in. What's up?"
"I hardly know where to begin." I decided to start with the less dramatic stuff. I filled Ilana in on the party and Brad and Marcy and Todd and Lona. Before I could get to the accident, Ilana interrupted.
"I'm sort of surprised about Brad. I didn't think he pull stuff like that. And Marcy dumping Todd for Brad. Shock city."
"That's actually kind of nothing," I said. I went on to describe the accident.
"Omigosh," Ilana said. "I hope Todd's going to be okay."
"He has a broken leg, but it sounded as if otherwise he's all right."
"But a broken leg …. That'll be the end of Todd's basketball season and basketball is his main thing."
"Yeah." It all started to sink in. "Todd will probably be depressed, with a capital 'D.'"
"On the other hand," Ilana said, "maybe Marcy will rush to his side."
"Maybe…. Or maybe she'll be even more all into Brad, since he'll probably take over as the new star of the basketball team." I could hardly believe it. I was actually feeling some sympathy for Todd, not only for his broken leg, but also for his bruised heart. "I think Lona might be able to cheer him up. It's been obvious to me for a while that she's more than a little interested in him."
"So, there's a prospective girlfriend-slash-Florence Nightingale all lined up for Todd," Ilana said. "What about you?"
"I'm not looking for a girlfriend or a nurse."
"You know what I mean."
I knew. I took a deep breath and explained all about Keeley, stopping to look at th
e river and The Kiss.
"Gaa! And I thought it was wild when Gavin and I both wanted anchovies on our pizza."
"But what do you think about everything I just said?" I held my breath.
"There is a nice view of the river there."
"Not that! What about Keeley and me? Did that kiss mean anything?"
"To whom?"
"To him. To me. To anyone!"
"You tell me."
"I don't know ..." I rubbed my finger along the edge of the bedspread. "That's why I asked you."
"Okay." Ilana sighed. "Here goes. If you like Keeley, don't wait for some official Seal of Approval—from me or anyone."
"But that's just it! I'm not sure how I feel about him."
"Okay. Wild guess. From what you've said so far, you must have some feelings for him. Good feelings, I mean."
"I don't know. I'm confused. When it's just the two of us, everything seems fine. Except maybe when I panicked when he mentioned going to the back of the van. But when we're around other people, I'm not so sure. Then it gets ... complicated."
"You mean it's okay to like him behind closed doors, but not in public?"
"That sounds so awful." I shuddered.
"Look," Ilana said, "I'm not trying to make it sound as if you're evil. You're the one who has to sort out her feelings. That's all."
"That's all?" I forced a weak laugh. "You're right. Thanks for listening."
"Any time." Ilana yawned. "It's really late. I'll keep Todd in my thoughts. Talk to you later."
"Okay. Bye." I scrunched up my pillow so I could think. Life used to be so simple. When I was a kid, Mom and Dad, especially Dad, always made all the big decisions for me. And lots of the little ones too.
Yes, you can have another cookie.
No, you can't play outside after dark.
I tried to picture what would happen if I went to my folks and asked, "What do you think? Should I go ahead and let myself like Keeley? I mean, really like him?"
Mom would probably tell me what a nice guy Keeley was, but then she'd say I'd have to decide for myself. Which is probably what she'd say about any guy who wasn't an accused-or-convicted felon.
Dad? Hmmm. Dad would probably rub his chin, clear his throat and finally say something like, well, have you thought about what it would be like? Getting involved with a young man who uses a wheelchair, and, um, has no legs? Could you handle it? Think it over, Sivia. Think it over very carefully.
And I'd so get mad, accusing Dad of being prejudiced about Keeley. And then I'd feel guilty. Because, what about my own narrow-mindedness? I didn't want to worry about what other people thought when they saw us together. I tried not to. But I wasn't very successful. Could I ever get to a point where it really didn't matter?
I did want to, I realized. But could I?
It took me forever to fall asleep. Then in a flash it was morning.
Even though it was Saturday, and I was wiped out, I didn't feel like sleeping in. I still had a lot of thinking to do. I peeked out the window. The sun was just coming up. It looked as if it was going to be one of those great big beautiful Oregon mornings when the air is fresh and clear and the best thing in the world is to be outdoors.
A good run would be a great way to clear my mind and help me think. I hadn't run for several days. I could catch the early bus to the university and run on the track before it got crowded.
Then I remembered that Dad was coming over. Well, he didn't say what time. If I hurried, I'd probably get home before he got here. I pulled on my sweats and running shoes, splashed water on my face, and ran a comb through my hair. I noticed that the tape on my hand was getting pretty grungy, but I really didn't have time to change it.
I left a note in the kitchen for Mom. I didn't take my phone. I wanted to run free and clear. I ran to the bus stop. I was the first passenger. We passed two women who were already out jogging. I could've just run around the neighborhood, I guess. But there was something special about running on a really good track, and I needed the lift I knew it would give me.
The bus made several stops to pick up more passengers, but I was the only one who got off at the university. I hurried over to the track and was pleased to be the first one there. I'd have the place to myself, at least for a little while.
I did a few stretches, then started out at a slow jog. The air was cool on my face, but the sun was warm on my back. Nothing mattered right then except the steady beat of one foot in front of the other.
I built up my speed. I liked to run, even though I wasn't that fast. I mean, I was pretty good, but not track-star material. Maybe that's why I enjoyed it. No pressure.
With softball, I always worried. I liked the game, but I couldn't let go of my mistakes. I thought the coach won't trust me anymore. I thought Marcy would torment me with one of her "Looks." It didn't matter if she did it because she was jealous and worried that I'll outshine her on the softball field or because she was just bitchy. It was a pain either way.
As for Dad, I thought he'd be devastated. I loved pitching, and I was good at it. But sometimes it was almost a burden.
I heard something, and realized someone else was on the track, gaining on me. I sped up. Sometimes other runners pulled along side and wanted to talk. I wasn't in the mood.
Too soon whoever it was was catching up again. I forced myself to run even faster.
Suddenly there was a blur on my left. I decided not to push it. I slowed down.
Then I saw that the "runner" was in a wheelchair. Though he was just a blotch as he whizzed by, his dark hair tagged him as Keeley.
I watched, amazed, as his hands blasted down on these rings attached to some sort of weird-looking chair with two large wheels on the sides and a smaller wheel in front. As he passed by the west grandstand he slowed down and raised a fist, as if in victory.
I caught up with him. "Hi. What's up?"
"I'm training for the five thousand meters." Keeley grinned. "Didn't I ever mention that I like to race?"
"No, as a matter of fact, you didn't." I stuck my hands on my hips. "Tell me. Is there anything you don't do?"
"Remember last night?" Keeley grinned. "I said that was none of your business."
"What was none—? Oh." I blushed, recalling our discussion in the van. "Ha, ha," I said sarcastically.
"Have you heard anything about Todd?" Keeley asked.
"There was a brief story about the accident on the morning news. It mentioned the deer and said how lucky Todd was to 'only' have a broken leg."
"Some luck." Keeley winced.
"Oh, yeah, and the reporter said that alcohol, speeding and car 'malfunction' weren't factors. Just the deer."
"And bad timing." Keeley's brows drew together in a look of concern. "I worry my letting the air out his tires could've been a factor."
"What? Why …? How?"
"I don't know exactly." Keeley waved his hand in front of his face as if he was wiping away cobwebs. "Hey!" He snapped his fingers. "Want to race?"
I shook my head. "You're too fast for me."
"Don't worry. For you, I can go slow and easy." Keeley said it in a teasing way, but I wondered how he meant it.
I hesitated for a moment. "Okay. I guess I can trust you." Then I took off like an arrow.
But Keeley quickly caught up to me, so I slowed to an easy jog.
"Hmm," Keeley said. "I never thought of you as a cheat."
"Not a cheat," I said innocently. "Just quick off the mark."
We circled the track in comfortable silence. If life could only be like this all the time, I thought. No pressure, no guilt, no decisions. Just breezing along in the sparkling sunshine.
"You know, Marcy's lucky her party didn't raided," Keeley said, jolting me back to the real world. "Though probably no one except those who were there even knew about it."
"Marcy. Gag." I stuck my finger in my mouth. "Don't remind me."
"What's the big deal about Marcy?"
"Oh, nothing. It's just that she's th
is bossy, resentful bitch, um, person, who could totally make my life miserable during softball."
"Marcy?" Keeley pretended he couldn't believe his ears.
"Yes, sweet, little Marcy. Sometimes I don't even feel like playing softball this year, because of her."
"Don't let her get to you." Keeley was serious now. "I know you can't ignore her if you're going to be on the team with her. But remember, her batting will be no big deal if she plays for a team that's losing because it has no pitching."
"I suppose, but." I stopped running. Then, I don't know why—frustration maybe—tears pricked at my eyes.
"Hey," Keeley said softly, reaching over and taking my hand in his. "It must be more than just Marcy."
I kicked at the ground. I wasn't going to say anything, but then it all came pouring out. "It's my Dad. He pushes so hard. He tapes my games so we can study them. He drills me on batters' statistics. He even wants to hire someone to coach me privately!"
"Sounds as if he takes all the fun out it for you."
"Exactly!"
Keeley rubbed his chin. "Have you ever thought of telling him how you feel?"
"Not really. I mean, I hate to let him down. Besides, he's always right about everything."
"Maybe you just think he's right because you've never really questioned him."
I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked away from Keeley, concentrating on the tree-lined ridge that formed a backdrop to the track stadium. "I don't know. Maybe."
"You can't always be worrying about what someone else thinks, Sivia. Nothing wrong with listening to someone else's opinions, but you have to make your own decisions. If you make some mistakes, at least they'll be your mistakes." He moved in front of me so that I would look at him. "Think about what makes you happy, not what makes your father happy. You can't go through life basing every single decision on how someone else is going to react."
His face eased into a smile. "Not that I'm trying to tell you what to do. But if I paid attention to all the people who thought I shouldn't or couldn't do something, I'd probably be sitting in my house sucking my thumb and clutching my teddy bear."