I was nearly to the building when I caught sight of Nate. He was standing on the walkway, staring at me, and I felt uncomfortable right away. I wondered how much Quinn had said to him about our spat the day before.
I got my answer when he snarled at me, snapping about me being late, and then within a few minutes, he blasted me for being a dick to Quinn, as he put it.
And that was when I lost it. We got into a shouting match, the kind we hadn’t had since we were kids. My temper, which always tended to get out of control, got the better of me, and before I knew it, I was jeering at him about his feelings toward Quinn, taunting him that even if she did ever date him, it would only be out of pity.
But it was in course of my outburst that I said something that rattled me. I heard the words come out of my mouth, and they jarred me as much as they did Nate.
“Because I’d disagree. I think Quinn wants . . . even more than friendship. That’s the real issue here, isn’t it? It’s eating you up because even when we’re fighting about something, she still wants me more than she’ll ever want you.”
I hadn’t acknowledged that hunch before—the suspicion I had that Quinn was harboring a secret crush on me—and saying it out loud shook me up. I could tell by the look on his face that it didn’t come as a surprise to Nate, though. He was livid, and in any other guy, I’d have ducked for the inevitable punch. But Nate was smart. I watched his eyes move from fury to calculating to a sort of flat realization. That was when I put my glasses back on and took off.
I yanked open the doors so hard they banged against the outside of the building, and then I strode blindly through the hallway, heading toward my locker. My little encounter with Nate meant I didn’t have time to stop in the cafeteria, but that was okay, because I had a feeling I would’ve made lousy company. I lingered at my locker for a while, hoping to calm down before it was time to head for the gym.
The bell rang, and I was on my way down the hall when I spotted Quinn coming out of a classroom. She saw me at the same time, and a mix of pain and anger flashed across her face before she shuttered it.
“Quinn.” I grabbed for her arm, but she shrugged me off. “Mia, please.”
I felt her soften. “What do you want, Leo?”
I ran my hand over my hair. “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I don’t know what I said that made you so mad, but whatever it was, I’m sorry. Can we just get over this?”
One side of her mouth curled up, but she wasn’t smiling, not really. “Sure, Leo. Let’s just get over it. Which I guess actually means I’ll get over it, right? I’ll stop being such a pain in your neck and start making friends with the rah-rah squad. Won’t that be swell for everyone?”
I clenched my jaw. “I don’t get it, Quinn. What do you want from me? What do I need to do?”
The bell rang again, signaling the start of the next period. Quinn glanced down the hall, which was now almost empty, and I knew she was stressing over being late. That was my Quinn, conscientious and responsible.
My Quinn? Where the hell had that come from? I shook my head a little and pushed away the thought as she leaned against the wall of lockers and hugged a book to her chest.
“I don’t want anything from you, Leo. I guess I have to accept that things are changing, right?”
“But that doesn’t have to mean—” I paused, frowning as I heard something from down the adjacent corridor. When I leaned around the corner, my heart plunged and I groaned. “Shit.”
Quinn’s forehead wrinkled. “What?”
“Nate—he’s—crap.” Not waiting to explain any further, I took off toward the gym. “Hey—what the fuck?”
About thirty feet away, in front of the steps that led down to the gym, three of my teammates had formed a sort of triangle. And right in the center of that triangle was Nate. I’d seen Tim shove him toward Karl, and just before I’d yelled, Karl had pushed him to Brent.
But at the sound of my voice, Brent had looked up, a guilty look on his face, and whether it was out of instinct or deliberate, he took a step to the right, getting out of Nate’s way and leaving him hurtling helplessly down the short staircase.
It was like something out of a nightmare. On the football field, I had a reputation for making moves that were so quick and decisive that a few local writers called me the Flash. But here, in a hallway in our school, I couldn’t move fast enough to grab Nate before he fell. I was close enough to hear the sickening thud of his head against the iron railing and see his face go slack and blank before his limp body rolled to a halt at the bottom of the steps.
Behind me, Quinn screamed. “Nate!” I heard the pounding of her feet, and I turned to catch her before she could trip and fall on top of him. My heart was thudding in dread, but I held it together enough to grip Quinn’s upper arms, giving her a little shake.
“Go get help. Do you have your phone? Call 9-1-1, and get—fuck, I don’t know—get the school nurse or the principal or someone.”
Some of the horror cleared from Quinn’s eyes, and she nodded, reaching in her back pocket for her phone even as she took off in the direction of the office. Once I was sure she was on her way, I jogged down the stairs to kneel next to Nate, careful not to jostle him as I tried to remember the little bit of first aid training we’d gotten in health class.
Don’t move him, in case his neck is broken. Bile rose in my throat. Nate was lying at an odd angle, but I didn’t think he’d fallen far enough to have snapped his neck.
“Taylor, shit, we didn’t mean—” Brent was babbling behind me, fear evident in his voice. Son of a bitch was afraid he’d gone too far, and dammit, he should’ve been scared.
“Shut the fuck up. Just shut the fuck up.” I growled the words. The last thing I needed was to deal with his sniveling right now. I concentrated on Nate again.
Check for breath sounds. His chest was rising and falling—it was almost imperceptible, but there was no doubt that he was breathing. Good. That was good.
Check for bleeding and apply direct pressure. I leaned over him, half-expecting to see a pool of red spilling around his head from where it had hit the railing, but I couldn’t find anything. Was that good? I vaguely remembered my mother saying that head wounds always bled a lot, maybe some time when I’d come inside the house, covered with blood. So no bleeding had to be a good thing, I was pretty sure.
“Leo, man, what’re you going to say happened?” This time it was Karl talking, anxiety threading his voice. “If we get in trouble for this, we won’t play tomorrow. Hell, we’ll probably get kicked off the team. Suspended from school.”
“Holy fuck, I’m eighteen.” Brent sounded like he was on the verge of crying. “I could be prosecuted—”
“Would you shut the fuck up?” I spoke through my teeth, my jaw clenched. “Do you think I fucking care about your problems right now? Nate’s unconscious, and he might—shit, do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves? He’s sick. Do you fucking understand that? Something like this is a huge deal.” I reached for Nate’s hand, lying limp alongside his body. The skin was cool, but not cold. That was good, too, wasn’t it?
I glanced away from Nate only when I heard the sound of running feet. The school nurse, Mrs. Channing, along with the principal, were following close behind Quinn. I fastened my eyes on her face, needing to make sure she was okay. She was pale, and her eyes looked huge and full of terror, but she wasn’t about to pass out or get hysterical. She was holding it together, and I was grateful.
Mrs. Channing knelt on the other side of Nate’s body—his body? No, on the other side of Nate. She picked up the hand I wasn’t holding, and I realized she was checking his pulse. Her sober gaze met mine.
“What happened?”
It was a loaded question, and of course I knew what she meant, but I chose to focus on the most important information. “He went down the steps, and his head—” Nausea threatened again as I heard the sound in my memory. “He hit his head on the railing. He was unconscious when I got to
him. I couldn’t get here fast enough to stop him from falling. I went as fast as I could.”
“Leo, stop. We’ll deal with that later.” She touched the side of Nate’s head, careful not to move it. “I can’t see any bleeding.”
“Is that good or bad?” I blurted out the question. “I can’t remember. Is it bad when the head doesn’t bleed? I didn’t move him, and I made sure he was breathing, but I couldn’t remember about the head.”
“You did just right.” Whatever the nurse was going to say next was lost in the noise of a door bursting open as EMTs rushed toward us. I was pushed out of the way as they swarmed Nate. I stood, my body stiff, and moved up the stairs to wait next to Quinn.
Almost as if it was drawn to me like a magnet to steel, the side of her body pressed into mine, and she ducked her head to burrow it in against my chest. My arms went around her, pulling her tight into me, and then I couldn’t help lowering my lips to touch the top of her hair. She was trembling, and in that moment, I would’ve done anything to comfort her. Anything to make it all better for her.
“What happened here, Mr. Taylor?” Mr. Platten, the principal, spoke low.
“I . . .” A lump formed in my throat, and I found it hard to speak. “I’m not really sure, sir. I just came around the corner in time to see Nate falling. I tried to get here to grab him, but I was too far away.” I inclined my head toward Quinn. “We were just around the corner, and I heard—something. I ran, but I couldn’t get to him in time.”
“He tripped.” Brent was talking to Mr. Platten, but his eyes were on me. “I guess he was on his way to the gym when I—when we passed him, and the next thing I knew, he was on the ground. It all happened so fast.”
Fury burned in my chest, and I wanted to yell, Liar. But I kept my mouth shut. Right now, I was only worried about Nate. Later I’d deal with Brent, Karl and Tim.
The EMTs had Nate on a wheeled stretcher, and they moved him fast toward the doors. One lingered to speak to the principal.
“Were his parents notified?” She glanced at Quinn and me. “Are you friends of his?”
“My secretary called his parents right away, but we didn’t get through. We’ll keep trying.” Mr. Platten’s lips pressed together. I was sure this was looking like a nightmare to him just about now: a student badly injured on school property, and the only witnesses were four prominent members of the first winning football team the school had known in decades.
“I want to go to the hospital with Nate.” Quinn pushed away from me, turning as though to follow the gurney. “He shouldn’t be alone.”
“You can’t ride in the ambulance with him, but you’re welcome to meet us there.” The EMT’s eyes flickered to Mr. Platten. “If that’s okay with the school.”
“I’ll drive her over.” I grasped Quinn’s hand, holding it tight. “We—we’re like family. We’re Nate’s best friends, so we should be there until his parents can get to the hospital.”
“I agree. Go ahead.” Mr. Platten shot me a long and steady look. “Keep me informed, please, Mr. Taylor.”
“Will do.” I tugged on Quinn’s hand. “Let’s go.”
***
The ride to the hospital was only about ten minutes, but it felt endless. Quinn had climbed into the front seat of my car without a word, and she didn’t speak until we were parked and walking inside.
“Do we go to the emergency room, or . . .?” She flashed wide, confused eyes at me. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Let’s go in here.” I led her to the main entrance, through the automatic doors and up to the information desk, where a volunteer sat in front of a computer screen. “Nate Wellman. He was just brought in by ambulance.”
The older woman raised one eyebrow. “Family?”
“Yep.” I didn’t even hesitate.
“Wellman?” She tapped a few keys and scanned the monitor. “He’s in the ER, but it looks like he’s about to be taken up for a CT scan.” She pointed down the hall behind her. “Through those doors, take a left, follow the signs. Ask at the desk there, and they’ll tell you where to wait.”
We were moving before she’d finished speaking. Quinn stumbled, trying to keep up with me; her legs were long, but I still walked a lot faster. I tightened my grip on her hand.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “I just want to get there. See him.”
“I know.” We rounded another corner and stopped in front of another desk. The nurse nodded when I gave her Nate’s name.
“The EMTs told me you were coming. He’s awake, and you can go back there—but he’s about to go up to imaging, so make it fast.” She directed us to the right room.
“He’s awake. That’s good, right?” Quinn looked up at me anxiously.
“I think it’s got to be. And they’re letting us see him.” I halted by the door with a number eight above it. “This is it.”
Nate had always looked small to me. Even though he was the oldest of the three of us, as long as I could remember I’d been a good head taller than he was, not to mention just overall sturdier. But when I saw him lying in that hospital bed, he looked . . . weak. Vulnerable. And suddenly I was wracked with guilt for the way I’d let him down over the past few months. Hell, who was I fooling? It had been years since I’d been a friend to either Nate or Quinn. I’d put on a good front, doing the small talk and the waves in the hallway, or stopping when I saw them out and about, but I couldn’t remember the last time we’d hung out or had a real conversation.
Beside me, Quinn made a small noise and rushed to the bed. She found Nate’s hand and had it pressed between her own before I even took two steps to join her.
“Nate, oh, my God.” She gave a half-sob, and tears I guessed she’d been just barely holding back streamed down her face. “How—are you okay? Well, that’s stupid, you’re laying in a hospital bed, you’re clearly not okay.”
“I’m going to be fine, Quinn.” His voice sounded a little strained and a little slurry. “My head is just killing me right now, but they gave me something for the pain. And I guess I’m going up to get some kind of scan in a few minutes.”
“Yeah, that’s what the nurse said.” Quinn caught my eye and jerked her head a little, clearly gesturing for me to come stand next to her. I moved into Nate’s view, not sure how happy he was going to be to see me there after our last exchange.
“Leo drove me over . . . and he made sure you got help.” She was nearly babbling, and I knew she was talking me up to Nate. Trying to patch things between us, just like she’d always done.
“Thanks, Leo.” Nate focused on me. “Seriously. Thanks.” He paused, his forehead knitting together. “Was that you who yelled right before . . . I went down?”
“Yeah.” I crossed my arms over my chest and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Nate. Really sorry.” I hoped he understood that I meant that apology for more than just failing to rescue him in time.
“There wasn’t anything you could’ve done.” He blinked so slowly that I wasn’t sure he was going to open his eyes again right away. When he did, I could tell he was having trouble staying awake. “Listen, Leo. What happened with . . . Brent and them?”
I shook my head. “Nothing yet. It wasn’t clear exactly what went down, and I was more worried about getting you help. And Brent—he said you tripped.” I set my jaw. “But I’ll make sure it’s straightened out. They were giving you shit, weren’t they? Messing with you?”
Nate rocked his head a little, wincing as he did. “No. I mean . . . yeah. They were. But I don’t want to get them in trouble. It’s kind of my . . .fault, I guess. A little. And I don’t want everyone to hate me.”
“That’s bullshit, Nate.” Quinn the avenger was in full protector mode, disbelief painting her face. “They need to be punished. They should get kicked off the football team, and—my God, you could’ve gotten really hurt. Worse than this.”
“No, Quinn.” He was adamant. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want you to do anything, or I’m going
to be really pissed, got it?” He shifted his gaze to me. “Go along with whatever Brent says happened, and I will, too. I tripped and fell. That’s it.” His eyes drifted shut. “Quinn, you got that? Tripped. No one’s . . . fault.”
And then he was asleep. His mouth opened a little as his breath evened out. Quinn’s back bowed, and her inhale was ragged.
“Mia, he’s going to be okay.” I put a tentative hand on her shoulder, but we were interrupted when the door opened, admitting an orderly.
“We’re taking him up to CT right now. You can wait in the family area down the hall.” The orderly stood back, waiting for us to pass. I slid my hand down Quinn’s back, guiding her into the corridor.
An older man stood just outside, typing into a computer tablet. He glanced up as we emerged.
“You’re here for Nate Wellman?” He cocked his head, scrutinizing us. “Family?”
“Yes. We’re just waiting for his parents.” I lifted my chin, daring the doctor to argue with my claim to be related. “Is he going to be all right?”
The doctor sighed, running his finger down the side of the tablet as he skimmed his notes. “Seems that he is. Now, we won’t be sure until we do the scan, but he regained consciousness, and he was completely cognizant. Knows his name, where he is . . . he’s fully oriented. Probably a mild concussion, but a little rest and he should be good as new.” He drew his brows together something else in the file caught his attention. “He has some ongoing health issues, though, doesn’t he? We’ll have to run through some extra tests, just to make sure nothing else is going on.” Tapping the top of the computer, he turned and walked away from us without saying anything else.
“Let’s go find the waiting area.” I reached for Quinn’s hand, but she jerked away from me, and when she turned to face me, her eyes were stormy.
“How could you agree to that? You didn’t mean it, did you? You’re not going to let Brent and those other guys get away with what they did to Nate.”
The Keeping Score Box Set Page 11