The Deep End » Outer Banks [JJ Maybank] BOOK ONE

VI: Tidal

tidal
adj. relating to or affected by tides.

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It was a small miracle when Lee and her mom arrived at the Outer Banks Hospital that morning unscathed. Lee was a notoriously bad driver, which many found surprising given her harrowing experiences inside a vehicle, but she always managed to pass it off as her desperate need to get places as efficiently as possible. Occasionally that meant honking angrily at drivers who pulled out in front of her or darting around cars only going the speed limit, so what? It's not like she was going to t-bone somebody while drunk driving in the middle of the night and then run into the forest in an attempted getaway after realizing that one or both victims were dead.

So maybe the bar was pretty low for good driving, in Lee's experience.

Either way, Lee rolled her eyes at her mother's reaction as they pulled into a parking spot at the hospital—Laura was great at being overdramatic, and their ancient Hyundai gave her plenty of ways to flaunt her abilities. For example, the way that she was currently gripping the passenger side door and the center console as Lee took the keys from the ignition.

"You can give up the death grip now, Lord Vader. Car's off."

"I don't know where you learned to drive like that, young Padawan," her mother retorted. "It wasn't from me and it certainly wasn't your driver's ed course."

Lee shrugged as she stepped out of the car. She made eye contact with her mom over the roof of the sedan as she replied, "John B."

Her mother narrowed her eyes. "You've been driving that boy's hunk of junk?"

"No, mom, that's not—"

"When did you learn to drive standard?"

"Your father taught you how to drive standard when you were thirteen?" her mother exclaimed, halting just before they could breach the stairs up to the front lobby.

Lee smirked. "Yeah, he thought that I should be able to escape if I ever went on a date with a boy who had a car that was stick."

Her mother furrowed her eyebrows and set her hands on her bony hips. Lee shrunk backwards. "Your father was going to let you go on a date with a sixteen-year-old?"

"No," Lee said slowly, trying to pick her words. At least if she tries to kill me I'm already at a hospital, Lee thought to herself. Comforting. "It was in case I went on a date with a thirteen-year-old who had a car."

Her mother opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Lee began walking upstairs. "C'mon, mom, we don't want to keep Greg waiting."

"I thought I told you to stop calling Dr. Lawrence 'Greg'."

"You did, but Greg and I are friends," Lee said, grinning back at her mom as her mom shook her head in disdain. "Plus, I don't call him 'Greg' to his face or anything."

Lee and her mother strolled through the sliding doors and were greeted by Harsha, the nurse at the front desk.

"Lena and Laura! Good to see you ladies," Harsha exclaimed. "I'll let Dr. Lawrence know you're here–would you just check over these forms for me?"

Lee's mom sighed as she took the clipboard from Harsha's dainty hands. "You know our info never changes, Harsha. You could just start forging my signature."

Harsha laughed. "It's protocol, Laura, you know if I could, I would."

"Alright, but when I get arthritis because of all this signing, I'm contacting you with those hospital bills."