Chapter 20: Broken

I watch Nathan's car disappear from the parking lot, confusion overtaking me.

"Did he just leave?" Mason asks, jogging over to me. I look at him.

"Yes. What is wrong with him?"

He stares at me.

"He didn't ask you?" Harper asks slowly.

"No. Ask me what?" I look between the three of them.

It is May now, May 2nd, and today was the last day of classes. I walked out of the hôpital after my accident on Lucia with a broken ankle, a bruised tailbone, a dislocated shoulder that was pushed back into place, and a sprained wrist.

Nathan and I have gone on multiple dates but he has not asked me to be his girlfriend. I will not push the subject.

"Ask me what?" I repeat, my voice harder.

"I don't-" Mason cuts off. "He's acting weird." He shakes his head. "For the last day he's been acting weird. Don't you think?" He looks around at everyone.

"He's just an idiot." Spears grumbles. I glare at her.

I hate her a lot, and every rude comment she says about Nathan only makes me hate her more.

"He has been acting weird." Harper nods in agreement.

They all look at me expectantly.

"What?" I ask.

"He was going to ask you to be his girlfriend." Mason says. "But..." he trails off.

I shake my head.

"No he was not." I say calmly.

"Yes he was." Mason says carefully.

"He looked sad." I say. "Very sad. He looked like he was asking me to go to a funeral, and then he took off."

"We were pushing him to ask you to be his girlfriend." Harper says.

"Well I can assure you, he was not going to ask me that."

"So you think something is wrong?" Mason asks.

I press my lips into a thin line.

"How is he acting at home?" Harper asks.

"He's..." he trails off. "I don't know. His Mom called him yesterday and he's been acting weird since. If it was serious he would tell me." He shrugs. "We've been friends since we were really young."

"Maybe Gabe knows." Spears says.

Mason starts pulling out his phone.

"Let's talk to Nathan first." I say. "He has the answers. Let's not look until we have to."

_____

He wasn't a home or at work. His boss promised to call Mason if he showed up, but Nathan doesn't work today and he didn't work yesterday.

There's no reason he would show up at work.

But it is the next morning and he did not come home.

I am worried, walking around the living room.

"Let's give him until three." I say. "If he does not call or show up, we call Annie."

Annie is Nathan's mother.

Everyone nods in agreement and I sigh, dialing his phone again.

Nathan

I glance down at my ringing phone.

When Odeletta's face appears, I resist the urge to answer it, but I can't.

I can't find it in me to get up.

I pulled over last night at Royal Gorge Bridge because my car broke down. It's a bridge stretched over a canyon in Colorado. I've been sitting with my feet dangling off of the edge for hours.

I slept on the bridge in my car last night.

Every time I look down, my stomach drops.

I wanted to ask her to be my girlfriend, but I can't. Not at a time like this.

I was going to ask her to go to Julian's funeral instead.

But saying it makes it real.

I mean, he's not dead yet, but he might as well be.

I know I need to go to Ohio, but I've been putting it off.

I look down at my phone.

3%

I need to act now, but I can't.

I force myself to, dialing a tow truck.

After a half hour, he shows up and tows the car. I have him just take it to the junk yard and take a city bus back to Boulder.

I get as close to my apartment as the bus allows, and then I drag myself up the stairs to my front door.

Everyone is here.

I shut the door slowly.

"Where the hell were you?" Mason demands. "What the fuck, dude?"

I shove my hands deep in my pockets.

"Tuesday night, Julian stole my Dad's car to go pick up some girl and got hit by a pickup truck on I71." I whisper. "He's in a coma and the doctors don't think he's going to wake up."

The entire house is silent, and Mason looks like I just punched him in the face.

He's practically his brother too.

I look at him with a blank expression on my face.

"My little brother is going to die. He's going to die and it's all my fault."

Nobody speaks, and then Mason swallows loudly.

"We're going to Ohio."

_____

I stare at the doors to the hospital, and I feel like I'm going to cry.

I have six missed calls from my Mom, nine from Peyton, eight from my Dad, twelve from Gabe, and the list goes on.

I begged Mason not to answer the phone.

They even called Odeletta, who didn't answer.

Brenda got her Dad to pay for all of our tickets to Ohio.

I don't want to be touched. When Odette tried to touch me, I pulled my hand away.

She hasn't tried since, but I think she understands that I want to be alone.

So we all go into the hospital, and even though it's in the seventies outside and nice, I'm wearing a hoodie and jeans, keeping my head down as the elevator soars up to the ICU.

I'm the last one off of the elevator, and I numbly follow my group down the hall.

"Ready?" Mason asks, his hand on the doorknob. I shrug my shoulders, my hands in my pockets, my head staring down at my black vans.

I hear the door opening, and Mason dragging me into the room.

It takes me a full three minutes to look up, but when I do, I feel like I've been punched in both lungs.

He lays there, so lifeless. His right leg is in a cast, his left arm in a cast, too. He has stitches on his forehead, above his right eyebrow, and on his cheek. There's a long gash down his right arm, covered in stitches.

His face is bruised and he looks so...

He looks so fragile. So broken.

He doesn't look like Julian. Julian would be making comments about how hot the nurses are, or something that would make our mothers eyes bulge out of her head and swat at the back of his head.

But instead, he lays there, not moving.

Mason's parents are here, Jackson and Gabe are here, my aunt and uncle, my parents, Peyton, who's face is red and spotted.

I keep my distance, standing by the room, and I want to laugh at him, but I don't.

There's no way I could laugh right now.

I take a deep breath, reminding myself to breath.

In, out. In, out.

I'm a psychology master, I know a thing or two about medicine because I've had a couple friends in the medical field.

I swallow nervously and speak up.

"Is he still breathing on his own?"

My voice is thick, and it's the first time I've said a word since told Brenda to thank her Dad for flying us out here.

"Yes." Dad says after a moment. "He's hanging on."

I suck air in through my teeth and nod slowly.

I want to cuss Julian out for driving. I want to cuss my parents out for not putting that house alarm up. It's been sitting in a box under my old bed for three years, but they kept forgetting to put it up.

I hate everyone. I hate my parents for not setting up the alarm. I hate Peyton for not telling my parents to teach Julian to drive. I hate everyone.

But more importantly, I hate myself.