Over Again

❝i might miss everything you said to me❞

❝i might miss everything you said to me❞

c h a p t e r    o n e

     "I will never get used to hearing myself sing," Niall said, laughing as 'Best Song Ever' came on the radio.

     "It's been three years, Mr. Superstar," I teased, looking away from the road to steal a quick glance at him.

     He rolled his eyes. "I know but- Sarah, look out!" I whipped around to look back at the road to see a blonde girl standing in front of the car. Her hands were on her hips, and she was laughing, a cruel expression on her face.

     I jerked the wheel to the right so I wouldn't hit her. It worked, sort of. Instead of hitting her, the car crashed into a pole. The crunch of metal was sickening. My seat belt dug into my throat as I slammed forward, knocking my head on the steering wheel. The windows and the windshield shattered. I squeezed my eyes shut and threw up my arms to shield my face as pieces of glass flew everywhere. I could hear people screaming, and horns honking, and sirens in the distance. My eyes snapped open.

     The first thing I registered was blood. The dashboard was splattered with blood. I wasn't sure if it was mine or Niall's. I glanced over to right, he wasn't moving. There was a large gash at the edge of his forehead, blood leaking down the side of his face. I fumbled with my seat belt, getting more blood on the fabric, but I didn't care. My hands stung from their multiple cuts, but I didn't notice. My head throbbed as I leaned over.

     "Niall?" Oh god, please don't be dead, please. I started to reach out a hand towards, then stopped. What if he was serious hurt and moving him would make it worse? I didn't want to hurt him more. "Niall, please wake up," I whispered, my voice cracking. I raised a hand, gently wiping the blood away from his face with the edge of my shirtsleeve. No response.

     "No. No. No. Please. Please, Niall." My voice grew louder, more desperate. I licked my dry lips, tasting the saltiness of tears. I hadn't even realized I had started crying. The throbbing in my head grew more painful and dark spots filled my vision.

     Wicked laughter was the last thing I heard.

      I jerked awake and glanced around. We were still in the hospital. Louis was beside me, tapping his fingers on his knee and humming quietly. On the other side of him was Harry, who was asleep. Diagonally across from Harry since he was in the corner, was Zayn, on his phone. Liam was gone, probably picking up lunch, judging from the clock hanging on the wall. Across from where I was sitting was the blonde version of the devil. Ashleigh.

     She hadn't actually been at the accident; she had just flown in to California two days ago. It had just been a random guy listening to music that had walked in front of the car. But with the stress and her cutting remarks, my nightmares were becoming a jumbled mess. Fortunately, I didn't talk or move in my sleep, so no one had noticed my nightmare. That same scene had been plaguing me for days. The accident. Niall...

     "Any news?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. I wasn't sure what to expect. I didn't want to get my hopes up, only to be disappointed, but it had been three days. There had to be something. The only thing we knew was that he wouldn't die. Which was a good thing, I guess, but he hadn't woken up yet, and there was the possibility of brain damage, though they hadn't told us how severe it might be.

     Louis shook his head and gave me a small, sad smile.

      "I feel so guilty," I muttered. Apparently not quiet enough, though.

     "You should," Ashleigh spoke from across the room. She shot me a somewhat disgusted glare as she tied her hair back. "It's your fault he's in there."

     "Stop it, Ashleigh," Louis said, returning her glare. I frantically looked around the room as they got into a glaring match. Harry was asleep. Zayn was on his phone, though I doubted he could've been much help, since he didn't really like me, and hated Ashleigh even more. The only two people who could've really effectively stopped this were Liam and Niall. Liam was out picking up food for us, and Niall... Niall was unconscious strapped into a hospital bed. Like he had been for three days.

     "What?" she asked, flicking a strand of her blonde hair. "It's true."

     "How's it her fault?" Louis demanded.

      "Lou," I warned, when the woman behind the reception desk looked up. "It's fine." It pretty much was my fault. I had been the one driving. I had been the one who had looked away, then swerved and hit a pole. And I had walked away with a couple cuts and bruises while Niall had the possibility of memory loss, being paralyzed, or even being brain dead.

      "It's not your fault, Sarah," he insisted. Ashleigh snorted from her corner, rolling her eyes when Louis shot her another glare.

     I nodded, even though I didn't really believe him. "Thanks," I muttered. Seeing that he had seen through my thin lie and was about to protest, I quickly changed the subject. "Why do you two hate each other so much?" I asked quietly, gesturing to Ashleigh. I understood why she hated me, sort of. She liked Niall, more than a friend, and I was more or less in the way of anything happening between them. But I wasn't quite sure why Louis hated her, and vice versa. She got along fine with Liam, and sort of Harry.

     Louis shot me an incredulous look. "Are you kidding? Look at her!"

     "Um..." I turned to look at Niall's childhood best friend, then immediately looked away when she glared at me. She didn't look the evil. She looked the opposite, actually. Her blonde hair fell down her face in soft waves, and her green-blue eyes were wide, almost child-like. She sort of looked like the stereotypical cheerleader, but more innocent.

     "Okay, not what I meant. But you know how she is," Louis said.

     Before I could reply, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to check the Caller ID. It was my dad. Guess he finally left the hotel long enough for Mom to tell him what happened, I thought bitterly. Then immediately chased the thought away. Dad spent so much time at the hotel because it was important that it stayed successful. A lot of people worked at the hotel and if it went out of business, they'd all lose their jobs. "I'll be right back, sorry," I told Louis, standing up. I walked down the empty hallway until I was out of ear shot, then picked up. "Hello?"