Crash Into You

Chapter 61

Isaiah

MY HEAD THROBS. A PULSE that originates from the twelve stitches on my forehead and vibrates my skull. If it weren’t for my head, I’d probably feel the rest of my body. The doctor called me lucky. Lots of bruises. No broken bones. No internal injuries.

I’d feel luckier if someone would tell me about Logan. The bastard...my friend...a lump forms in my throat...I saw blood.

I raise my hand to my head. The tubing of the IV line rubs against my forearm.

“You shouldn’t touch it.”

With the sight of her, my stomach twists to the point that the doctor may have to rethink internal injuries. “I’m not in the fucking mood, Beth.”

A chair scrapes against the floor, causing the pounding in my head to increase. “We could be twins,” she says. “I’ve got a nice-size scar over my eye, too.”

I drop my arm and stare at the girl I had thought I loved since I was fourteen. When I met her, she had straight black hair and an attitude that scared the shit out of bikers. The prickly disposition Beth used to carry as a physical shield no longer drapes her aura. There’s a peacefulness that surrounds her that I never noticed in all our years together.

“You got your scar because you wouldn’t listen,” I say.

Beth flashes her patented sarcastic grin. “Twenty dollars I’ll find out the same thing about you.”

Back in October, I stood in this same hospital waiting to hear if she was alive. Her mother’s boyfriend tried to kill Beth. Her boyfriend, Ryan, saved her. Once I heard she was fine, I left. Beth obviously doesn’t live by the same policy.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Shirley and Dale.”

My foster parents—her aunt and uncle. They stopped in a half hour ago. They were part pissed I interrupted their long weekend at the lake, part pissed that my social worker is now up their ass and even more pissed I hurt myself. Who knew the two of them gave a slight shit.

“How’s Logan?” I ask.

The peacefulness fades from her face. “We don’t know. They took his dad straight back and he hasn’t been out since. No one will tell us a thing. Ryan’s going nuts.”

I place a fist to my forehead. “I’ve fucked it all up. If something’s wrong with him...”

I could never forgive myself.

Beth places a hand over mine and squeezes. “He’s an adrenaline junkie. We all know it. If it wasn’t with you, it would have been with someone else at some other time. At least you were there. At least you could call the police. You can’t fix everything.”

“You don’t know how deep I’m in.”

“No, I don’t. Because we’re not friends anymore.”

“Not the time.”

“I love you, Isaiah. I always have, but I’ve never been in love with you. Both of us were so damn fucked in the head that neither of us understood the difference between friendship and love. We’re friends. We always have been. I know you know what I mean because Logan’s told me about Rachel.”

My eyes snap to hers and Beth waves me off. “He never betrayed you. I annoyed the hell out of him until he told me, and all he would say was that you look at Rachel like Ryan looks at me. In all the years we knew each other, you never looked at me like that.”

Beth opens her mouth to continue, but I cut her off. “I know.”

“You do?”

I return Beth’s grip. “You let me take care of you.”

She raises an eyebrow, highlighting the scar above her eye. “So?”

“Rachel doesn’t. She always wants to take care of herself. Drives me crazy.”

Beth laughs. “Then it must be love. I drive Ryan insane.”

There’s an ache that goes deeper than the physical wounds of my skin. “I really did care for you.” Beth’s right—I didn’t love her, at least not in the way I love Rachel, but it doesn’t negate the fact that I had feelings, even if she didn’t return them.

“I know.” She repeats the answer I gave her. “I also know you love her, but is there room for me? Just as what we were good at? As friends?”

Friends with Beth. I assess the small devilish pixie, and it’s one of the first times in my life I’ve seen her desperate for an answer. I rub my hand over my head. This could be really good, or the worst mistake ever. But because Beth’s right again, I nod. She and I were always at our best as friends. “Friends.”

A female clears her throat at the doorway, and Courtney walks into the room. Beth stands. “Noah and Echo are on their way,” Beth says. “And I dropped Abby off at Rachel’s. They should be here soon.”

“Thanks.” Noah’s going to blow a gasket, and I’m not sure Rachel will want to show.

Courtney slips into the seat Beth abandoned. “How are you?”

I motion toward my arm with the IV. “I’ll be better when they spring me.”

“Isaiah...” She inhales deeply and exhales. “What the hell were you doing?”

“How’s Logan?”

Courtney shakes her head so sadly that her ponytail slumps. “I don’t know. I’ll be honest...the longer his dad stays back there, the more anxious I become. He’s got a lot of friends out there, and you’d think his father would want to give them good news.”

I shut my eyes, not allowing Courtney to see the fear there...the weakness.

“The police believe your story, Isaiah. That you tested a nitrous system on an abandoned road and it failed.”

“It’s not a story,” I say. “It’s the truth. Something went wrong and I lost control.”

“Regardless of what happens with Logan, the police won’t press charges. Logan’s father waived away the option of holding you responsible.”

“Yay for fucking me. At least I won’t be in prison like my mom, right?”

My vision blurs for the second time today. This time it’s because of tears. For years, I’ve been fine. But now, emotions are everywhere and I can’t control a damn thing.

“Do you know why I asked to be your social worker?” Courtney asks.

I peer at the blood pressure machine, wishing I could stop feeling. “Why?”

“Because I grew up in foster care, too.”

The heart rate monitor increases speed, and Courtney pretends she doesn’t notice that her bombshell affects me. “Entered at six, just like you. I had the good homes, the bad ones and the group homes. I even have a tattoo from my pissed-off years.”

My chest moves faster as my emotions threaten to consume me. I reach for anger, because it feels better than hurt. “Is that what you think I am? Pissed-off?”

“Oh, Isaiah.” Courtney stares straight into my eyes. “Pissed-off is the easy emotion. Having been in the same exact position you’re in...” She flutters her hand at the hospital bed and then grows still. Her mouth attempts to quirk up, but her lower lip trembles. “I’d bet, right now, you’re feeling very alone.”

Alone.

Logan’s got a dad beside him. Me? I’ve got a social worker. I shake my head, fighting the hurt. “What’s wrong with me that nobody wants to keep me?”

Why no one wanted to love me. Right now, I don’t feel badass. I feel seventeen and crave for someone to tell me that my friend will be okay.

Her fingers find mine and I don’t draw away. “Nothing,” she says firmly. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

I suck in air, close my eyes and exhale out the emotions. Courtney withdraws her hand, and I’m grateful she doesn’t push me further.

“Can you find out about Logan?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says. “I’ll be back.”