inevitable

{Three}

Savanna

"Are you heading out?" Jen, my grade level teaching partner, asks as I walk through the staff workroom.

"Yes," I say on a sigh. I'm exhausted. A week has gone by, and I've yet to hear more from Chris about paying a hospital visit to Brax. The nightmares about the accident haven't stopped. Sleep has been elusive.

"We're planning a TGIF tomorrow. You in?" Her back is to me as she stands at the copier prepping for tomorrow's lessons, so she doesn't see my grimace, but my silence apparently speaks volumes because before I can escape, she adds, "Your hermit lifestyle isn't healthy, Savanna." Jen gives me a side-eye while she staples a packet of worksheets together. "In an effort to save you from yourself, I declare an intervention. You'll come out with us tomorrow and stay at my place so that wicked commute won't keep you from having a tiny bit of fun."

At this comment I roll my eyes. "Getting wasted at the bar doesn't sound at all like a tiny bit of fun. It sounds like torture."

Jen shrugs. "Better then solo Netflixing on a Friday night. Binge watching is not the best use of your social free time in the prime of your life." She gives me a look I know all too well. She is not going to take no for an answer. Then she smiles. " It's a done deal, Savanna. Pack a bag for tomorrow and stop your protests."

I find myself nodding my head in agreement. There's no fight left in me anyway, and maybe Ill end up getting some sleep after a late night out.

Another sigh escapes my lips. "Fine. You win. But for now, I'm getting out of here so I can beat the traffic."

"Good." Jen's satisfied. She doesn't say more, and I'm thankful her good-natured nagging is done

I pack my car with papers to grade and projects to prep, knowing only half of it will get done. I should really leave everything here, but I don't.

The drive home still makes me nervous. Every time I pass the spot where the rider, Brax, went down, I grip the wheel in a full-body shiver. Today that reaction is even stronger. Why I'm not sure.

I jump when my phone rings.

"Hello?" I answer without checking the caller ID.

"Hey, Savanna, it's Chris Sheridan. Do you have a minute?"

My heart races once again. Between the phone call and passing by the accident scene, I'm a complete wreck. "Of course. I'm just driving home."

"Oh, I can wait until you get home. Wouldn't want you to have an accident."

"It's fine. I use a hands-free device." Since my junker bug isn't equipped with Bluetooth, I have to use an earpiece with a microphone and a remote.

"Okay, then. Good." He clears his throat, and I have to push down my sudden irritation. I wish he'd just get on with it and say what he called to say. "I'm planning to head to the hospital tonight to finish out my report--a couple of them, actually. Would you have time to accompany me?" he asks.

I'm filled with a sudden, all consuming need-- to get to that hospital. 

"Yes, absolutely. Should I meet you there? Um, and which hospital is it?" As I speak, I'm already mentally rearranging my nightly tasks. Some things, such as grading papers, will have to wait. I'm finally feeling relief from the pit of worry that settled in my stomach, but now it's a flutter of energy, and I can hardly sit still.

"Uh, yeah. That works, I guess. Meet me at the entrance at seven." Chris hesitates again. Apparently, he had other plans, I remember his idea to take me to dinner, but I have no intention of turning this into some makeshift date. I know it's awful to use him like this, but it really is for the greater good. At least, that's what I tell myself.