Paper Hearts

25

|| Lucas ||

As I watched the doctors swarm around her body, I felt completely numb. Every cell in my body tingled with emptiness, and the dull, throbbing pain in the arm that had broken my fall had been reduced to a slight pulse thanks to the medication they gave me upon arrival.

A lump rose in my throat as I sat, helpless, in the waiting room—slumped against a cushioned chair, a man with a clipboard approaching me, tapping his pen before asking,

"Are you Lucas David Callaway?"

"Yes."

My voice was hoarse and scratchy, and the man adjusted his glasses, reading off of the clipboard. I was beginning to find it harder and harder to concentrate, not when Victoria was behind those double doors, just feet away from where I sat.

"Could you please describe the events leading up to this situation?"

It took me a solid few seconds to realize that the words were directed to me, and the second I did, I inhaled sharply, trying to collect my thoughts just long enough to formulate words.

"I—uh, we had dinner at my parent's place. And...and I was starting to drive her home. She fell asleep, and I kept driving, and then we hit a rut and—flipped."

Even saying it aloud caused the flashes of images to run through my mind—Victoria sleeping, the empty road, my eyes closing for a split second and then—

I shook my head, blowing out a breath and shaking out my hands, trying to calm myself down, but to no avail. The man just looked at me.

"Okay," he said, slowly. "I'm going to let you use that phone over there to call your parents and anyone else you may need to call. I'll check in with the doctors; nothing major should need to be done—the patient had just fallen unconscious; she didn't seem to be hurt too badly. Once I'm finished with that, I'll let you know, and then we'll look into moving her to a room."

Even though he had literally just explained everything to me, I still couldn't shake the cold sweat that broke out on my palms and back, panic and shock coursing through me as I got to my feet, trembling as I thanked the man and made my way to the phone that hung on the wall, beside the front desk.

My first instinct was to dial my parents' number, but I had to stop myself, thinking of Victoria and then of her father, who was completely oblivious to the situation and probably still living it up with his business partners.

I wanted to call him first, of course, which would have worked out—if only I had his phone number. I sighed, my eyes falling on a dusty Grayson Urgent Care phonebook. Picking it up, I flipped through the numbers, hoping to God that there was someone named "Hemmings" I could find—

After what felt like ages, my finger landed on a certain Kent Hemmings, and I decided to give it my best shot.

________

Several calls and phonebook searches later, I had the everyone I could possibly think of gathered in that small Grayson Urgent Care lobby.

Victoria had been moved to a small room in the back of the hospital, used for brief staytimes. The man with the clipboard had greeted all of us cordially and invited her father—Kent—to visit with her. He left without another word, leaving me with both of my parents and Rachael Whims, who I'd called out of complete desperation and misery.

My parents conversed quietly in the corner over a stack of paperwork, both sending me worried glances and offering hugs. I crossed the room to Rachael, her red hair mussed and tangled as she leaned against the back wall, looking as if she were trying not to cry.

"Hey," she said softly, as I sat down. "Thanks for calling. I—I would have hated to find out any other way."

I rubbed a hand over my face, feeling worse than ever.

"You must hate me," I muttered. "You've never liked me, and then I go and get your best friend in a car crash—"

"It's not your fault, Luke," she said softly, and I looked up at her, startled at the words. She didn't meet my gaze, but kept talking anyways.

"You didn't plan to hit the rut; it just happened. The car flipped. It was an accident, and you did the best you could, getting her here and calling everyone and making sure she's safe."

She took in a deep, shuddering breath, blinking away the tears and whispering,

"You and I have had our issues before, but that doesn't change the fact that you did your best and you looked after her. When Victoria forgave you, I wasn't sure what to think, but now—"

She dared to look at me, and when her copper gaze met mine, I looked away quickly, suddenly aware that the presence of her tears could possibly cause some of my own.

"Now I think I know that she knows best."

She released another breath, and I nodded, saying,

"Thanks, Rachael."

"No problem."

There was a pause, and then,

"Just so you know, this doesn't change the fact that I do not regret egging your truck for a second."

I'd forgotten all about it, but now that the memory was brought up, simply the thought of she and Victoria Hemmings chucking eggs at the truck made me want to laugh out loud.

"I believe you," I said instead, with a small smile, which I was surprised to see her return.

"Good." She whispered, turning away from me once more and shutting her eyes. "Now get some sleep. Everything's gonna be okay."

And I did, closing my eyes and leaning my head back, taking deep breaths and trying to stop myself from imagining the worst.

But as Rachael's words rang through my mind, I knew that it was only then when I realized how frustrating that phrase really was.