At the crash site, they separated us into different ambulances. I didn't think I needed one, but the EMTs were concerned with my pain and the large red marks streaked across my right side. They strongly suggested I go with them to get checked out in case I'd broken a rib.

Still unconscious, they wheeled Emmett into an ambulance on a gurney. Knowing that I'd end up at the same place as Emmett, I agreed.

I didn't see Emmett at the hospital. They took me to a long white room with a dozen or so beds. Each space divided only by a thin curtain hanging from a track on the ceiling. Machines beeped and whizzed and whirred all around me. The anxiety and terror of not knowing what happened to Emmett gave me a panic attack that only subsided after they hooked me up to an IV. I wondered where they'd taken Emmett and when I'd get to see him again. I kept asking every person who passed by, but no one answered me. The only reason I wasn't screaming to see him was because I knew they were taking care of him. I didn't want to distract anyone from helping him.

After an X-Ray, the doctor who treated me diagnosed the pain in my side as bruised ribs, probably caused by the seatbelt when I got flung sideways. They gave me ice packs and some pills to swallow. The nurse also put some kind of salve on the tiny cuts that I'd sustained to my face and arms. I hadn't even noticed before they mentioned it. Once I saw them, I couldn't stop staring at them. There were dozens of tiny red lines crisscrossing my arms. My face only had a few. Probably because I raised my arms to protect it.

As soon as the doctor left my area, I called my parents, getting them both on the line so I wouldn't have to explain twice. They both panicked hearing that I was in the hospital, speaking over each other to ask a million questions. After several minutes of reassurances that I wasn't seriously injured, I convinced them not to rush. I didn't want them to have an accident trying to get to me too fast.

My parents found me about half an hour after I called. They had to pick up Rachel from school and the baby from daycare; both were all the way across town from the hospital.

I wished I would've put my shirt back on after the doctor left, to conceal the basketball-sized bruise on my right side, but it hurt to lift my arm, so I left it off. My mother burst into tears at the sight of me. She wrapped me in a hug that made me wince. She apologized profusely, acting like she'd caused internal bleeding.

Dad pulled her back, holding her in his arms. "He's okay, Laura." He sounded a little worried himself, but he was trying to be strong for my mother.

Dad reached out to grip my hand. "You really scared us with this one, kid."

"Worse than my appendix bursting?"

Dad chuckled and nodded. "That was a tough one, but this still tops it. At least we were with you when that happened."

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"It's not your fault." Dad gave me an intense stare, shaking his head. He seemed angry, but not at me. "They told us what happened. This was squarely on the other driver."

"If I hadn't skipped school, I wouldn't have been there, though."

"We'll talk about that later," Mom said, momentarily shifting into furious-mom mode before she slipped back into worried-mom mode, smoothing down my hair.

"And Emmett..." I paused, my eyes jumping to Dad. He didn't know about Emmett yet. He knew Emmett, obviously, just not the part where I was in love with him. Mom promised she'd let me tell him and Rachel in my own time.

This might not be the best moment, but I was tired of hiding. With fear constricting my chest and nausea churning my stomach, I said, "I think I'm gay, Dad. And I'm in love with Emmett. And he loves me, too."

Mom smiled at me and laid her head on her husband's chest.

Dad had tears in his eyes, but he also smiled. "Okay."

I raised my brows. "That's all you're gonna say?"

"Do you want me to say more?" He squeezed my hand. "I can. I can tell you that I love you. Because I do. Who you date doesn't change that. I couldn't love you more, even if you were my own flesh and blood. Your sister, too."

I looked around, wondering for the first time the whereabouts of my sister and brother. "Where is Rachel? And Teddy?"

"She's watching him at home," Mom said. "We didn't want to bring him to the hospital."

I nodded. I didn't want them to see me like this, anyway. Especially Rachel. She was an overreactor, like our mother. "Can you find out how Emmett is, Mom? No one will tell me anything."

"I'll get to the bottom of it." She released her husband and set out to find someone to berate into giving her information.

"So, you and Emmett, huh?" Dad perched on the foot of the bed. "How long has that been a thing?"

"Today would be Day One."

"Oh!"

"Yeah," I said. I explained why we were together, why I skipped school, and my plan to confess after the party. "I wasn't expecting him to ask me if I liked him. And I just said it. Right there in the park for anyone to hear. And I kissed him."

I raised my eyes from my fidgeting fingers to look at the man who had raised me for the last seven years as his own son, loving me and my sister enough to adopt us. I still remembered the day we asked him to be our dad, officially. We had the adoption papers all ready. He just had to sign it to become our dad. It was one of my most vivid memories. He cried, holding a hand over his face, trying to pull himself together. Finally, he said yes. We all hugged and cried. Then we went out for pizza and ice cream.

He smiled at me.

"What?" I asked.

"I've never seen you like this before."

"Like what?"

"So... joyful. You light up when you talk about him," Dad said. My mother said something similar.

"Do I?" I wondered if my feelings were that obvious to everyone.

Dad nodded and patted my arm, careful not to touch any of the cuts. His eyes grew glassy again. "I'm really glad you're okay. I'd hug you, but I don't want to hurt you."

"I think I can handle it. As long as you don't squeeze me like Mom did."

Dad laughed and moved to sit closer. He stretched his arms around me, barely putting any pressure into it. "I love you, kid."

"I love you, too, Dad."

The curtain parted and Mom stepped in again. My heart stuttered, worried about the news. "Is he okay?"

Mom smiled. "Do you want to see him?"

I nodded vehemently. I tried to get up too fast and stretched my sore ribs. I grabbed my side and sank back onto the edge of the bed, grimacing. Fresh tears sprung up in my eyes.

Both my parents rushed to my side, fawning over me.

"I'm getting a wheelchair," Mom announced, fleeing my cubicle before I could protest.

Dad chuckled, laying a hand on my shoulder. "You might as well not bother fighting her. You know how she is."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I know." I grabbed my shirt off the bed rail and handed it to him. "Can you help me with this before she gets back?"

He took the shirt and slid it over my arm on my injured side, putting it over my head. I got the other side on by myself just as Mom wheeled the chair in. I was actually glad of the chair. Just putting on the shirt took a lot out of me. And I felt a little lightheaded from all the meds they gave me for the pain and to calm me down.

Dad pushed me, while my mother took my hand, walking by my side.

Around the corner from the emergency room, Mrs. Noble stood in the hallway, talking on the phone. "Yeah, okay. I'll keep you updated. Bye, Peter."

Mrs. Noble looked at her phone screen before slipping it into her pocket. Upon closer inspection, her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed from crying. She set her lips into a tight line.

I felt my bottom lip start to quiver and the sting of oncoming tears. She must hate me. I would hate me, if I were her. "How is he?"

When Mrs. Noble spoke, her voice was thick. "He has a mild concussion, and a fractured radius." She rubbed her hand up and down her right forearm.

Hot tears filled my eyes, pouring down my cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

"Emmett told me what happened. As angry as I am with the both of you, this wasn't your fault." Tears welled in Mrs. Noble's eyes. My mother went over to hug the woman.

"He's awake?" I asked.

Mrs. Noble wiped her hand over her mouth, blinking back tears. "He is. The nurse is in there now. I just came out to talk to his father. Let him know what happened."

"Can I go in?" I pointed to the door, which hung slightly ajar. "Is that okay?"

"Go ahead."

I tried to get up, groaning with the effort. I wanted to go to Emmett. Dad grabbed my shoulder and forced me back down. "Hold on there, Superman."

Mom pushed the door open so Dad could wheel me inside. I held up my hand. "Can I go alone?"

My parents shared a look. Then Mom laid a hand on Mrs. Noble's shoulder. "You look like you need some coffee."

Mrs. Noble huffed out a humorless laugh. "I really could." She pinched the bridge of her nose, sniffling.

"Come on." My mother hooked an arm around Mrs. Noble and steered her away from Emmett's room. Mom glanced at me over her shoulder and winked.

Mom then turned her gaze to her husband. "Mike? Coffee?"

"I'm good, honey." He waved her off.

"Then you can get a candy bar. Or a Coke."

"Oh." He looked over at me, then back to his wife. "I guess I could do with a Snickers."

"I thought so." Mom gave him that "You need to pay attention" look that she got any time he was oblivious to her intentions. It happened a lot.

I wondered if me and Emmett would ever have looks like that. Just one glance and we'd know what the other was thinking. Emmett had that with Carrie. I wanted that special intimacy with him.

As they walked away, I wheeled into the room. The curtain surrounding Emmett's bed was partially drawn, so I couldn't see him when I first entered.

I heard the nurse speaking, asking questions.

"And what would you do if I said the president is George Washington?" Emmett asked. The amount of snark in his voice made me smile. If he could be that snide he was probably just fine.

The woman chuckled. "I'd roll my eyes because I know you're being a brat again."

"I'm not going to stop annoying you until you tell me how my boyfriend is doing."

"I can't divulge information on another patient."

"Then all you're getting are bratty answers," Emmett said.

I rolled the chair forward, to the edge of the curtain. Emmett laid in the bed, his right arm wrapped in a white cast. He also had small cuts across his face. I almost burst into tears at the sight of him. The boy I loved was hurt, and it was my fault. I should've been paying better attention. I should've checked the road before accepting that nothing was coming.

"Hey," I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

Emmett lifted his head to look at me. "You're here!"

"I'm here."

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, rolling to the far side of the bed. I parked my wheelchair at Emmett's bedside and reached out to take his hand. I lifted it to my lips, kissing his knuckles.

"How's your head?" I asked.

"Achy."

The nurse chuckled.

Emmett took his hand away to press the button on his remote to raise his head higher. He looked at the nurse, grinning widely. "This is my boyfriend, Janine. I told you he's cute, right?"

Janine looked me over and pursed her lips. She gave a slight nod and looked at Emmett. "He's got gorgeous eyes."

Emmett looked back at me, slipping his hand into mine again. "He's got gorgeous everything."

My cheeks filled with heat.

Janine laughed, jotting something down on Emmett's chart. "You crack me up, boy."

"He loves me, you know?"

Janine nodded, examining Emmett's face. "You told me that earlier. Do you remember that?"

"I do. I just think it bears repeating."

"Okay, doll." Janine hooked the chart to the end of the bed. "I'll be back in an hour."

"I look forward to more poking and prodding."

Janine grinned and left us alone.

"So, I'm your boyfriend, huh?" I asked, raising my brows. That word gave me an unexpected thrill, sending shivers up my spine. I never got that feeling when my old girlfriends called me that.

"Aren't you?" Emmett seemed worried.

I nodded. "I am."

"How about you kiss your boyfriend then?" Emmett puckered his lips.

I set the locks on my wheels and scooted to the edge of the seat. I laid a hand on my injured side to brace it as I pushed myself out of the chair, flinching.

Emmett's face contorted with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Bruised ribs."

"Baby, why didn't you say something?"

I smiled and leaned down, pausing an inch in front of Emmett's face. "The pain is worth it to kiss you." I pushed forward to press my lips to Emmett's.

After we broke away, Emmett scooted over and patted the bed. I winced as I climbed up next to him and curled around his body, ignoring the pain.

Emmett pulled my shirt up to see the damage. His fingers hovered over the bruised skin. "Is it awful?"

"I'm kinda drugged up, so it's not that bad." That was a lie, but Emmett didn't need to worry about me right now.

"How is your arm?" I asked, staring at the cast.

Emmett rolled onto his side, so I had enough room to get more than one ass cheek on the mattress. "They've got me on the good stuff, so I'm feeling pretty great right now. Lucky I'm a lefty though, 'cause that would've sucked."

"Maybe, but it ruins my chance to say I'll be your righthand man."

Emmett laughed at my terrible joke. He laid his injured arm across my chest and stretched over to kiss me again. This kiss was not so tame.

I reached up to grip Emmett's jaw, brushing my thumb over his earlobe as his tongue rolled across my lips, seeking permission. I parted my lips, my tongue brushing against his.

When someone cleared their throat, we pulled apart. I expected my parents or his mother to be at the door, maybe even Janine, not Carrie and Jackson. They wore varied levels of shock. Carrie much less than Jackson.

My chest tightened, my breath catching. My stomach was doing enough intense flips to give Simone Biles a run for her money.

There was no hiding what we were doing. Or passing it off as something else. My tongue was fully in Emmett's mouth seconds ago.

When Carrie ran over to hug Emmett, whispering into his ear, Jackson walked over to my side of the bed. He sat in the vacated wheelchair, turning the wheels to shift side-to-side. "Are you okay, dude?"

I nodded, repeating my diagnosis. I even showed them my bruise.

"Ah, sick!" Jackson leaned forward, grinning. My friends treated injuries like badges of honor. Brandon was the current record holder with a broken femur and an eight-inch laceration to his calf from running into a tree after a bad jump sent his ATV off course. "It's worse than that time you crashed your dirt bike."

I walked away from that crash with just a scraped knee and a busted lip somehow. I wasn't so lucky this time. "It hurts like hell."

Emmett's hand grabbed my thigh, pulling my attention away from Jackson. "You said it wasn't that bad."

"Only when I move too much. Or... you know, breathe too deep."

"You aren't supposed to lie to your boyfriend."

My eyes went wide, my mouth falling open. I looked at Carrie, who was smiling, then at Jackson. He just shrugged and said, "You really shouldn't."

Carrie kissed Emmett's cheek and whispered, "I told you he was into you."

Emmett grinned.

I couldn't stop myself from glancing at Jackson every few seconds, worried that this calm demeanor was just an act. Years of bitterly divorced parents had given him the skills to hide his emotions like no one else I had ever met. If this discovery freaked him out, he could be masking it for the sake of appearances.

Emmett laid his head on my shoulder as he listened to Carrie's account of what happened in school after he ditched. The stories blurred together for me since I didn't know anyone involved. The only name I recognized was Makenzie, who apparently was now hooking up with some guy called Dan.

Emmett slipped his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers.

I silently watched Carrie, doing a brilliant job of multitasking, drawing a very good likeness of Eeyore on Emmett's cast with a collection of colorful sharpies she'd pulled out of her purse, along with a speech bubble that said, "I'm glad you're not a sad, lonely bitch anymore."

I assumed that was some inside joke, because Emmett had a playlist called "Sad Lonely Bitches Unite." It was the most depressing music I'd ever heard.

I wanted to talk to Jackson about what he'd seen, and about what Emmett said, but I never got the chance. Once the adults returned, Jackson and Carrie left since the room was so small. Also, there was a sign in the hall that proclaimed only two visitors were allowed per room. We had maxed that out three times over.

My parents didn't seem very shocked to find me in bed with another boy, arms and legs all tangled together. Emmett's head still rested on my shoulder; my cheek pressed against the crown of his head.

"Hi, Emmett," Mom said.

Emmett waved.

"We should get going," Dad told me.

"I'm not leaving," I said, in a tone that was almost daring them to try and tear me away from Emmett.

"Sweetheart, the staff isn't going to let you spend the night here," Mom said. "That's why they have visiting hours."

"Then I'll stay in the ER waiting room. That's open 24/7, and I doubt they check to make sure I'm a visitor. And even if they do, I have this." I raised my arm to show off the patient identification bracelet on my wrist.

After my parents shared a look, Dad said, "I'll stay with him until visiting hours are over. If that's alright with you, Barbara." He looked at Mrs. Noble. Apparently, her name was Barbara.

Emmett gave his mom sad puppy dog eyes.

Mrs. Noble shrugged. "I don't see the harm in letting him stay."

"Alright." Mom nodded. She walked over, pushing the wheelchair aside to lean over the bed, giving me a kiss to my temple. "I'll see you at home, sweetheart." She reached over to lay a hand on Emmett's good arm. "I'm so glad you're okay, too. And I'm very happy my son found someone so special to love."

Emmett smiled at her before looking at me. "I love him, too."

Mom sighed wistfully. "I see that."

On the way out, my mother offered Mrs. Noble a hug. Dad followed Mom out to walk her to her car.

Emmett rested his chin on my shoulder, staring into my eyes. His hand searched across my torso, sliding up to my face, drawing lines around my lips. His cast was scratchy against my cheek, but I didn't mention it. "I can't believe you're my boyfriend."

"Same." I cradled Emmett's wrist, turning my head to kiss each of Emmett's fingertips. "I love you, Em."

Emmett giggled, like he couldn't hold in his glee. "I love you, Clay."