Post by Free on Feb 23, 2012 22:12:56 GMT -5
[[Let’s start from the beginning. After watching The Vow, I think I’ve got a more realistic answer to how Desiree may respond to things. Lol. Although I still have no idea who she’d be if her family was still intact. I left your first post mostly as is (minor changes, most of which were formatting) so I’d have something to go off of, but you’re welcome to change it.]]
Logan smiled, “So wait a minute, how far do you go exactly?” He chuckled and waited for Brooklyn to answer. She just smiled and winked at James and then turned and kissed Westley’s cheek. “Does it really matter?” She asked with a slight giggle and smiled innocently at him. Logan studied her carefully, it drive him insane that he didn’t know just how close these three were. He loved knowing things about, well, everything. He soaked up knowledge, whatever the subject, people facts or language, he wanted to know it all. “Yeah, it does.” He said and stuffed his last French fry into his mouth annoyed he wasn’t going to get much else out of her tonight. “Alright, let’s do something I’m bored.” He said and turned to his best friend Desiree raising an eyebrow, silently asking if she had any ideas.
She sighed through her nose and examined a curly fry in boredom; she was a little cranky today. That was all right, he could handle her through everyone one of her moods. Something no one else could do.
“I know!” Alex shouted practically jumping out of his chair; “Let’s have a race.”
Logan shook his head. “Alex why are you in such a hurry to ruin that beautiful new car your daddy gave you?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Oh why scared your little Maserati can’t handle my BMW?”
Logan laughed, “That’ll be the day. Tell you what, the day your BMW beats my Maserati in a race is the day Desiree is nice to… Ryan.” Logan smiled down at Ryan, who glanced nervously at Desiree.
Poor Ryan, she didn’t fit in as well most did. Ryan, Alex and Charlie were all best friends; but that’s kind of where that ended. Alex and Charlie got along with Desiree fairly well, but Ryan had a hard time not rubbing Desiree the wrong way. Desiree snickered, Logan glanced back down at his best friend and smiled; he loved that he was the only one in the world that knew her through and through. Of course, she knew him just as well; they had been best friends since the fourth grade.
“Alright, let’s go!” Alex said jumping up and tossing a twenty onto the table.
Logan shook his head and slapped the small bill back into his cousin’s hand. “Don’t insult me with your pathetic pocket change.” He said and dropped a fifty on the table and rose to leave.
“Hey!” Brooklyn cut in stepping front of his as he pulled on his leather jacket. “We wanna race too.” She said smiling up at him and nodding toward Westley.
Westley gave Brooklyn a look and then gave in, “Let’s do this!” He said puffing up a little and the group headed outside to their cars.
“Hold it.” Logan said pulling out his iphone; “Alright, here we go.” He opened his google maps app and found their location, then held phone in front of Westley and Alex. “This is the track.” Both boys studied it and then nodded.
“No cheating.” Alex said giving Logan a hard look. “Since when have I ever cheated?”
Logan asked innocently. “Why would I even need to do such a thing?”
Alex just shook his head and tapped the same route into his iPhone to be sure. “Okay, let’s go.” He, Charlie and Ryan climbed into his black BMW and drove off headed towards the start of the “race track.” Westley, Brooklyn and James climbed into Westley’s beat up green cavalier.
Logan turned and smiled at Desiree, “Finally, I thought they would never leave.” He said and she smiled slightly, “What exactly the point of this race?” She asked looking a little bored. He shrugged, “It was either that or go home and watch backed up TVO. Besides it’s so easy to bait Alex when it comes to his precious BMW.” She nodded, “True.”
A few minutes later the three cars were parked in a straight line at the first coordinate awaiting Brooklyn to shout out go when her cell phone read 9:45 PM on the dot. “Go!” She shouted loudly, Logan slammed his foot onto the gas pedal; he could go 0-60 in 4.8 seconds. Alex’s BMW could not do that and Westley’s pathetic car could barely speed along the highway fast enough to attract a cop. Logan’s red Maserati pulled far ahead of the other two in a matter of seconds they disappeared from his rearview mirror. “Woo!” Desiree yelled and blasted the stereo with ((I dunno pick a band you think they would like)). Logan laughed as he continued rise in speed and whip around corners, he glanced at Desiree’s smiling face, a rarity these days. He was the only one that got to see that beautiful smile; the only one allowed knowing she even did that sort of thing. He began to sing along with the music and let go of the steering wheel throwing his arms in the air like he was on a roller coaster. He glanced back at the road, the coast was clear, he looked back her and whipped around another corner only using his knees. He could hear her laughing over the music and then a flash of light blinded him. The sound a screeching crunching metal and shattering glass filled hi ears. Something huge slammed into his chest and his head slammed into the headrest and then nothing.
“Logan! Logan!” Logan could hear his name being called, it sounded like he was underwater; the voices were so far away and the darkness closing in on him was unbearable. His chest ached and he found he couldn’t move his arms and legs, something was pinning him down. He tried to open his eyes but nothing happened, the inky black surrounding him was heavy and solid. “Logan! Desiree! Logan, wake up! Logan!” The voice, whoever was screeching was getting on his nerves as much as the darkness scared him he would rather delve deeper into it than awake to that girl screaming in his face. “Logan!”
Alex? Was that Alex no, no that was Westley? Logan tried to breathe again, gasping hugely. The darkness released him and his eyes finally opened as he gulped in air.
“He’s okay!” Westley exclaimed. He was so close Logan could smell his store brand cologne.
“Yeah, and I’ll be a lot better once you stop screaming in my face!” Logan muttered and tried to move his arms to rub his face with his hands.
“Oh sorry…” Westley said lamely and then backed away.
“I called 911 Logan, don’t worry.” Alex told him reaching out to touch his shoulder and then backed away. “Can you move?”
Logan shut his eyes his head was pounding and he could hear Charlie and Ryan both crying. “No.” He admitted and then panic struck through him. “Desiree!” He shouted and turning his head to check on her, the world spun and he swallowed vomit. “Oh. Des? Des?” He opened his eyes, she was lying limp [color-on the passenger seat the door was smashed up against her. Her upper body was slumped towards him. Her left hand seemed to reach out to him. He pulled his arms free of the steering wheel as blaring sirens came closer.
“Des…” He said quietly reach to touch her face, his chest ached and the movement caused sharp pains into his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright, Des, I’m here.” He said quietly speaking in Russian not wanting the others to hear or understand his compassion towards the only person he cared about in the world. Was she breathing? Of course she was, how dare he even consider such a thing? Nothing could take her down, nothing and no one. “I’m right here,” he whispered as an EMS team began pulling his car apart to pull them out.
Brooklyn laughed as she looked at Logan. It was the usual line of questioning. He seemed ever curious about their relationship. She found it amusing. As aloof as he pretended to be, he seemed to have to know things about people. She wasn’t deluded enough to believe that she could get him to do much for the information, but she loved the power over him for what it was.
For seemed like the millionth time, he asked, “So wait a minute, how far do you go exactly?” He chuckled as an attempt to lighten the desire to know behind his question, but Brooklyn knew better. She simply smiled at him and winked at James. “Awww…now, does it really matter?” She was sitting in Westley’s lap, and she turned and kissed his cheek. She glanced back over at him for a reaction.
“Yeah it does,” he said. She tilted her head to one side, retraining the laughter at his irritation. He was not the only one who desired the true story about their relationship. She found that it was way more fun to keep everyone guessing.
Brooklyn jumped at the idea of a race. Although she knew that no one could win against Logan’s car, especially not in Westley’s car, which was how she had gotten here, the idea thrilled her. What better was way was there to spend Thursday night than speeding through the streets of the city with the wind caressing your face? Brooklyn jumped up at Alex and Logan made to leave without them.
“Wait! You think we’re going to let you have all the fun?” she said as she stepped in front of him to block his path. She could just hear the insults whirling around in his brain about Westley’s vehicle and chances of winning, but none of them made it to his lips. She smiled at him, arms folded across her chest, an eyebrow raised above her bright green eyes. She wasn’t really asked for his permission, but he nodded to her as though that was what she had been waiting for.
Brooklyn watched as the old rivalry between Alex and Logan flared for what seemed like the tenth time today. She smirked. When she’d had enough of their of their little game, she stepped toward them, a hand on each of their shoulders, “Boys, boys, let’s just race.”
Alex conceded, “Okay, let’s go.”
Brooklyn raced toward Westley’s car, Westley and James close at her heels. She laughed, and climbed in the window of the truck before Westley even had time to unlock it. If not for her purple and black stripped stockings, everyone would have been able to see up her short jean skirt. This was not something that Brooklyn ever took notice of or cared about, but it was something that Westley had brought up a time or few.
“Come on, come on!” she shouted to Westley and James as they climbed aboard and took off. She was practically dancing in her seat between Westley and James as they headed for the starting point.
When her phone clicked over to 9:45 PM, Brooklyn shouted “GO!!!!” out the window as she leaned over James. He gave a her look for her volume, so close to his ears, but she ignored him, and turned her attention to the race.
“Sit, Brookie,” he said playfully like she was an overexcited puppy. She stuck her tongue out at him and returned to her own seat and Westley hit the gas and the old truck lumbered forward. When they finally reached a nearly acceptable speed, she leaned over James again and stuck her head out the window. Alex and Logan’s vehicles were well beyond shouting ranging, so she focused instead on other random vehicles and neighborhood cats, challenging them as the three passed. James and Westley, sure everyone in a 100 mile radius could hear her, both laughed at her.
A ways down the course, Brooklyn heard someone lay on the car horn and figured one of her friends had pissed off a tired driver on their way, blazing past, but as they rounded the corner, she gasped. Rubber tire marks swirled across the ground, leading to Logan’s car. Under the light of a street lamp, she could see the wreckage. Her mind hit worry instantly, paused at the thought of irony at the situation and continued on toward panic. The instant Westley’s car stopped, she was out the door and racing toward Logan’s car.
“LOGAN! DESIREE!!” She screamed as she slammed into the side of the car. Neither one of them were awake. Logan’s window was down, and Brooklyn reached through and felt his pulse and check for signs of breathing. Westley was next to her, shouting Logan’s name. Logan was alive. After several seconds, he stirred and looked around. Brooklyn forced a small smile as he chewed Westley out for the yelling. Yeah, he was fine.
Logan turned to Desiree, and whispered something to her in Russian. Brooklyn looked through the car and noticed her limp figure. She raced around to the other side of the vehicle and reach around the broken glass. Desiree had cuts all over her from the glass, and worse, a bleeding wound on her head. She wasn’t moving.
Brooklyn reached for Desiree’s cut wrist to feel her pulse. Nothing. Do not panic. It’s not always the easiest thing to find. Brooklyn moved to Desiree’s neck. Nothing. She slid her fingers along Desiree’s throat, but she couldn’t find anything that hinted at life. Worse yet, Desiree was an awful shade of white. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Her heart raced as she reached to unlock the door so she could get to Desiree, but a firm had grabbed her shoulder and realized the paramedics had arrived.
“She’s not…her heart…no pulse…” Brooklyn stammered, for once at a loss. As she slowly stepped away from the car, she touched her throat, stunned. There was moisture on her neck, she pulled her fingers back and looked at her hands. They were a little scratched up and bleeding, but they were also covered in Desiree’s blood. All of a sudden the smell of it hit her so hard she could practically taste it. She stumbled backward and screamed. Someone caught her, turned her around and pulled her close. “It’ll be okay,” James whispered in her ear.
The words kept coming over and over. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god…” Brooklyn stared blankly as James held her, then she looked at her hands again. Westley was wiping them off, but she could still see her blood, smell it, taste it. It was still there. “My neck…” she mumbled out in between the words that would not stop. “Oh my god. Oh my god. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” Westley had done his best to get it off, but it was still there, she could feel it. She began to vigorously wipe her hands on her tights. She pulled her shirt up and wiped the blood off her neck and then went back to wiping the blood on her tights.
Westley grabbed her hands, “Hey…it’s…it’ll be okay.”
She looked at him for the first time. “HOW DO YOU KNOW?!” she screamed. “I–” he tried, but she cut him off. “YOU DON’T KNOW THAT! SHE’S DEAD!” At the word “dead” Brooklyn stopped. It’s like it just hit her. Desiree’s dead. She dropped to the ground and pulled her arms around herself. She rocked a little like her mother used to do for her when she was little. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god…”
It was a good twenty minutes before they could get her up off the ground and back into the truck to head off to the hospital. Desiree had disappeared in the first five. As far as she knew, Logan was probably gone too. James and Westley stayed with her, although they undoubtedly wanted to know what happened to Desiree. She walked rigidly toward the car and climbed into her seat in the middle. She reached for her purse, which had fallen under James’s seat and felt around inside until she found her cigarettes. She stared blankly out the front window of the truck as she lit up, pressed the end against her lips and inhaled.
She could feel their eyes on her as Westley started the car and drove off, but neither of them said anything. She could feel two hands on her back, one from each of them. The drive to the hospital was absolutely silent. Brooklyn felt that they were all too afraid to say what they knew everything else was thinking. What if it’s not okay? She finished her cigarette, flicked it out the window and started on another. When they reached the hospital, Brooklyn lingered in her seat adjusting the mirrors, fixing her hair, checking her teeth, and then readjusting the mirrors. James finally just grabbed her arm and pulled her out.
“I was coming…” she said. She walked slowly. Whatever they found in the hospital couldn’t be good. Is Logan worse off than everyone expected? Did he break something? She didn’t allow herself to think about Desiree at all, even to imagine that they had fixed her and she was fine because that was too much to hope for. When they got to the waiting room, Brooklyn got into a fight with one of the nurses about her cigarette. She was not in the mood to hear people tell her what she could and couldn’t do.
In the end, James said something particularly nasty to the poor young woman and she disappeared. They never saw her again. Westley nudged her when she reached for another cigarette, and she sighed heavily and let her purse fall back against her body.
“Fine,” she said angrily.
From an older nurse in the lobby, they learned that Desiree was in critical condition and in surgery, but the nurse refused to tell them what her chances were. Brooklyn turned away from the woman and let the boys finish their conversation. Logan, they learned, was on the second floor, still unconscious from his sedative. They walked toward the elevator in silence. Brooklyn didn’t know how to take the news about Desiree. She felt that it was a little too soon to start rejoicing. The fact that she’d gone immediately into surgery did not seem like a good sign.
When they got to Logan’s room, he was asleep as the nurse had said. His father was standing over him, looking down at his son with a peculiar expression on his face. It was pain. She was sure the nurse had told him that everything was fine with his son, and yet he looked upset and she wondered if he was thinking about his former wife and what it would be like to lose another part of her. And there was always the fear of what could have been. Still, why not rejoice? Must be Desiree. Their families were very close.
Mr. LeBeau looked over at them suddenly as if he hadn’t heard them come in. The expression had already vanished from his face as he excused himself to get coffee. Brooklyn pulled a chair over near Logan’s head and sat down. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She hadn’t realized until this moment how tired she was. She looked over at the clock by Logan’s bed. It read 11:01 PM. She couldn’t believe it. It felt like at least 2:30 AM. She looked over Logan. He looked so much different lying there like that. Was it peace she saw in his eyes? Was this the unmasked Logan, pure for everyone to see? She almost laughed at the thought.
If only he knew what I’m thinking… The laugh broke through. James touched her shoulder and gave her a worried look. The smile vanished. When she looked back at him, she thought she saw movement. “Logan?” She stood up and touched his shoulder, “Logan?” He opened his eyes and looked at her for only a second before sitting up. When Alex tried to make Logan lie back down, Brooklyn suddenly realized that he’d been standing in the corner. It was so uncharacteristic of him to be so quiet; she hadn’t noticed him. Westley tried to bring Logan up to speed on the situation, but they didn’t really know very much and Logan wasn’t satisfied. Brooklyn had the feeling that he wouldn’t be until he could see her perfect again with his own eyes.
Logan left the room and everyone stared after him. minute later and headed straight for the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and all was quiet.
Charlie and Ryan came in a second later. “Where’s Logan?” she asked. No one answered her; everyone just turned and looked toward bathroom door. Brooklyn watched her walk over and knock on the door.
Logan answered that he was fine, of course, which they all knew wasn’t true, but no one questioned his words. Charlie looked back at the group, a helpless expression on her face. Brooklyn walked over and put her arm around Charlie, “He’ll be out soon, honey. I’m sure everything will work itself out.” Brooklyn found the words that she’d found so discomforting earlier coming from her own lips. Why do people insist on telling each other that everything will work out when they have no way of knowing or in some cases, know that it really won’t?
Mr. LeBeau walked back into the room at that moment. Brooklyn noticed that he was not carrying a coffee cup.
Charlie rushed over to his side. “Do you know anything yet?” she asked, hopeful. He shook his head. “They’re not going to call her father, are they? Oh I feel so bad for him. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose my whole family in a car accident and then several years– ”
Mr. LeBeau interrupted her. Brooklyn found it hard not to laugh. Charlie was very sweet, but sometimes it was that sweetness that got on other people’s nerves. Mr. LeBeau looked rushed. Without moving her head, Brooklyn looked around the room and began slowly backing against the bathroom door. She leaned against it with all of her usual ease and continued to look around and make sure that no one was watching her. She pulled an old receipt out of her pocket and silently pulled a pen from her purse. She quickly wrote, Anything I can do for you? Privacy, perhaps? -Brooklyn on the back side of the receipt, dropped it on the floor, and discretely pushed it under the door.
Brooklyn continued to lean against the door. She didn’t know what she was expecting. It was Logan after all. There was a chance he wouldn’t answer her at all. He was always so private about everything. Sure, she was private too. People didn’t know everything about her, and they probably never would, but she hadn’t built nearly the massive wall around herself that Logan had around himself. For the most part, she didn’t care if people saw her emotions. She didn’t like people to see her cry, but who did? Logan was a different matter. It seemed that he needed everything private, including his so obvious affection for Desiree.
What does it matter? She watched the people in the room interacting. Observation wasn’t usually her thing. She liked to be in the middle of everything with the attention on her. She sighed and listened for the sound of motion on the other side of the door. The hospital doors were heavy and thick. Brooklyn supposed that was to keep patients in line and to keep the hallways quiet and free of the screams of the administration’s victims. Brooklyn smiled at the thought. Oh well. She took a few steps forward, back into the room, just as the bathroom door swung open and Logan appeared in his hospital gown.
Under different circumstances, the view before her would have been quite comical: Logan bursting from a bathroom, his normally tanned skin a little paler than usual, a hospital gown flowing around him. It was so different from the usual Logan. He walked past her without saying a word. As he brushed past her, Brooklyn felt the receipt in her palm. She closed her hand and let it fall to her side. She watched him leave the room, his eyes on the floor a few feet in front of him. Charlie approached him with her usual concern, and he brushed her off as expected. “Well finally!” Brooklyn exclaimed loudly, eyes pointed at Logan’s retreating figure. Heads swiveled in her direction. She turned around, her cheeks reddening. That had worked too well. She reached for the bathroom door and pulled it open. “SOME of us had to use the bathroom!” she cried as she stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind her. She laughed nervously to herself. Well that was fun. She opened the crumpled receipt and looked at Logan’s reply. Bring cigarettes? Wow. Logan must really be having a rough day. As far as Brooklyn knew, Logan didn’t smoke. She shrugged to herself.
Brooklyn didn’t have to go to the bathroom, but she figured, despite the thick doors, she should make a good show of it, so she flushed the toilet and washed her hands before leaving the antiseptic, shiny white bathroom. She let the door slam behind her. There was no way she was going to be able to sneak out of the small room without everyone noticing. The heavy door didn’t slam like she had expected, but everyone did watch her exit the bathroom. With the main event elsewhere, it seemed that no one knew what to do with themselves. Brooklyn was surprised when everyone went back to their own conversations. That was easy, she thought as she slipped out the door. She took off running down the hallway. Logan was probably waiting for her. She knew she probably had an advantage, having walked into the hospital under her own power as opposed to Logan’s unconscious trip, but he’d left right away. There was also the multitude of maps and arrows scattered throughout the hospital to consider. All-in-all, when Brooklyn reached the courtyard outside the back entrance of the hospital, Logan was nowhere in sight. All she could see were some tables shaded by bright umbrellas decorated in the hospital’s colors, and a handful of doctors and nurses enjoying their short break in the warm sun.
Well, as long as I’m here, out in the fresh air… Brooklyn pulled the cigarette pack and her lighter from her purse and lit up. She was just about to put her pack away when Logan came through the glass doors to her left. Her smile brightened. “What took you so long?” she asked with a wink. He didn’t even smile, just let her know he didn’t want to talk and grabbed the pack she held out to him. She tried to stop him as he went to tap the box onto his hand, but it was too late and cigarettes flew out of her pack. She gave him a look. Maybe money doesn’t mean anything to you, but the rest of us have to pay for stuff ourselves. Now Eric might have given her this particular pack, but that wasn’t the point. “I guess you don’t go by the five second rule?” he asked in a very forced attempt at humor. She didn’t say anything, just took the pack out of his hand and handed him one. “I assume you know how to light them?” she asked with a condescending tone. He didn’t respond, simply lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. She laughed inwardly at the expression on his face. “That’s disgusting!” he exclaimed, while continuing to smoke. She smirked. It’s an acquired taste. She found this internal conversation with him amusing.
She took a deep breath, held the smoke in for a few moments and then slowly released it. She watched as the cloud of smoke escaped her lips. She sighed happily. Westley had refused to try smoking at all, and James had never been able to get past the initial phase that discouraged so many people. After a few minutes, Logan seemed to have had enough. He put out his cigarette and declared that they were going to find Desiree. Brooklyn didn’t try to argue that she wasn’t finished, or that he hadn’t even asked her if she wanted to go, she just put out her cigarette and followed him back into the hospital. Brooklyn noticed the meandering path Logan took to visit Desiree and wondered if he was biding his time or if was simply lost. She remained quiet, knowing that he would prefer silence. She couldn’t blame him, but at the same time, she felt that being alone with your own thoughts could sometimes be dangerous. Eventually, they found the right door, but Logan didn’t go in right away. He just stood outside, staring at the door. After a little while he said, “Westley and James must be worried.” It was a thin attempt, but she knew that it meant he wanted her to leave. “Yeah, probably,” she said. She usually made the habit of calling him on his lies, but today was no such day.
She turned immediately and walked back down the hallway they had come. She thought about going back outside for another smoke or perhaps wandering into a random patient’s room and striking up a conversation, but in the end, she decided it was best to return to Logan’s room. She was sure that people would be wondering where she was by now. Sometimes, sometimes she felt that her friends could be a bit too easily concerned. She was a butterfly, easily smothered. She had the feeling that Charlie would pounce the moment she got back. Brooklyn was pleased to find Charlie sleeping when she got back. Westley greeted her instead. “Hey,” she said as she crawled into his lap. Brooklyn didn’t notice Alex until he walked up to her and asked if she’d seen Logan. “No, but I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s a big boy; he can take care of himself.” Brooklyn listened to the tense conversation of the people around her. She fidgeted. She’d had enough waiting around. It would be hours, probably, before Desiree was out of surgery.
She’d had enough of the emotional strain that she could feel emanating from everyone in the room, with the exception of Ryan. That caught her off guard. Ryan had always seemed nice enough, but then, she and Desiree had never really gotten along that well. Still…when someone dies… The hours ticked by. One, two, three, four, five, six. Finally, unable to bare the situation, Brooklyn stood up, “I’m hungry. Westley? James?” Her stomach was upset, but it was something to do, something outside the tiny room.
She was inviting James and Westley, but hoped that none of the others would follow. Charlie was still sleeping, so that was good, but there was a chance that Alex might follow, just for something to do. There was also the chance that Ryan would want to come because she clearly didn’t want to be there at all. Brooklyn’s thoughts drifted back to the crash. It had been in the back of her mind since the crash and kept threatening to overtake her consciousness. Vivid images flashed through her mind. She could see it: twisted metal, Desiree’s limp form. She could feel the heaviness; she could smell the burning from the tires. She swallowed hard and a paramedic grabbed her shoulder. She jumped at the touch and looked around. She was standing back in the hospital. Westley had his arm on her shoulder, a worried look in his eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, smiling brightly at him, “Let’s go.”
Brooklyn was relieved that neither James nor Westley made a bit deal about the episode in the doorway. She wasn’t really ready to talk about it and she certainly didn’t want to do so in front of everyone. She started off down the hallway in the directions of the cafeteria. James walked next to her, but Westley lagged behind. She turned around and walked backwards, “What are you waiting for?” James gabbed Brooklyn’s arm and pulled her toward him by the wall. Brooklyn looked over in time to see a hospital bed fly past them and around the corner. Perhaps Westley had been wise to linger.
The hallways clearly weren’t a safe place to stand. Brooklyn looked back at Westley who was watching a nurse walk into Logan’s room. After a few seconds, Westley motioned for them to come back. Brooklyn moved quickly down the hallway and stopped right next to Westley. The nurse was talking about Desiree. She was out of surgery. Brooklyn breathed. She hadn’t even realized that she had been holding her breath. Desiree had made it through surgery. Does this mean she’ll survive? Brooklyn wanted to rejoice, but after what had happened that night she wasn’t sure if she could trust that Desiree wouldn’t die again later than night.
All of a sudden Brooklyn didn’t want to be at the hospital anymore. It was too much. I can’t do it again. Before Brooklyn could say anything, Westley asked if they could visit her. Brooklyn forced the images of Desiree’s limp form to the back of her mind. She concentrated on everything else. She looked over at Ryan and noticed her hair. Ryan had recently gotten a haircut and it cute. The curtain in the room was a pale pink, ideal for Logan’s taste. Brooklyn noticed that even the air had that sick and antiseptic scent to it.
As everyone headed out toward Desiree’s room, Brooklyn lagged back with Ryan. James slowed his pace to match hers. Westley and Alex were leading the way to the elevators toward ICU. Brooklyn leaned over to James and whispered, “I think I’ll catch up with you guys later. See you at the car?” in his ear. James put his arm around her and whispered back, “Brooklyn, it’ll be okay.” James didn’t let go as they walked down the hallway and into the elevator. He doesn’t understand. There were times when either Westley or James misread her, but they were few. She almost felt betrayed in that moment. She needed him, which he knew, but not why.
In the elevator, instead of leaning against the elevator, with one hand on the decorative metal railing, James just stood holding her with both arms. She leaned against him, relaxing partially at his touch, but part of her felt like an animal caught in a trap with the hunter quickly approaching. Her window of escape was narrowing. The group moved quickly through the hospital with everyone trying to match Alex’s frantic pace and long strides. It was easy for James and Westley, but Brooklyn and Ryan were shorter and less willing to follow. Westley paused at the door, looking hesitant.
Brooklyn hoped that maybe they wouldn’t have to go in. Westley started to say something along those lines, but Alex burst through the door before he even got out a complete sentence. Brooklyn stood in the doorway, eyes fixed on the ground. Everyone else was standing just inside the room, looking at the floral curtain. Logan’s angry voice came from behind the curtain. Brooklyn noted the pain that accompanied his angry tone. She didn’t want to say anything, but the words just came out. They were a plead for the others who had not yet seen her. “We know this is hard for you, but we’re her friends too.”
There was silence for several seconds on the other side of the curtain. Then Logan’s head appeared in between the folds of the rough fabric. His face was hard. “Get out.” He pronounced each syllable with venom, and not even Alex had anything to say in response. The group trouped back to the elevators where a brief fight broke out between Ryan and Westley. Brooklyn wasn’t paying attention anyone though. Her mind was still up in the ICU, wondering if everything would turn out alright. James held her. On the walk back to Westley’s vehicle, both boys were giving her worried looks. She wanted them to know what was going on, but didn’t want to face their questions in the car. She pulled a cigarette from her purse, lit it and began puffing. Westley and James gave her I-wish-you-wouldn’t looks, but neither of them said anything, even as she took her cigarette into Westley’s car.
((3:07 pm two days after the incident. They put her in a chemically-induced coma to protect her from shock.))
Everything hurt. Voices whispered somewhere nearby. She was so tired. Desiree listened to the voices for a little while. They were talking about her. After a long while, she opened her eyes. A curtain was draw around her bed and there were three people standing around her: a nurse and two men. The younger of the two rushed toward her. He reached out for her hand, his face full of concern, but she pulled away before he could touch her.
“What happened?” she asked.
The young man looked at her. There was something odd about his expression. She didn’t understand.
She looked around the room. It was a single room. She didn’t know why she was in the hospital, but from the pain resonating from every part of her, there must have been an accident.
“Did anyone else get hurt? Where are my parents?”
Logan smiled, “So wait a minute, how far do you go exactly?” He chuckled and waited for Brooklyn to answer. She just smiled and winked at James and then turned and kissed Westley’s cheek. “Does it really matter?” She asked with a slight giggle and smiled innocently at him. Logan studied her carefully, it drive him insane that he didn’t know just how close these three were. He loved knowing things about, well, everything. He soaked up knowledge, whatever the subject, people facts or language, he wanted to know it all. “Yeah, it does.” He said and stuffed his last French fry into his mouth annoyed he wasn’t going to get much else out of her tonight. “Alright, let’s do something I’m bored.” He said and turned to his best friend Desiree raising an eyebrow, silently asking if she had any ideas.
She sighed through her nose and examined a curly fry in boredom; she was a little cranky today. That was all right, he could handle her through everyone one of her moods. Something no one else could do.
“I know!” Alex shouted practically jumping out of his chair; “Let’s have a race.”
Logan shook his head. “Alex why are you in such a hurry to ruin that beautiful new car your daddy gave you?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Oh why scared your little Maserati can’t handle my BMW?”
Logan laughed, “That’ll be the day. Tell you what, the day your BMW beats my Maserati in a race is the day Desiree is nice to… Ryan.” Logan smiled down at Ryan, who glanced nervously at Desiree.
Poor Ryan, she didn’t fit in as well most did. Ryan, Alex and Charlie were all best friends; but that’s kind of where that ended. Alex and Charlie got along with Desiree fairly well, but Ryan had a hard time not rubbing Desiree the wrong way. Desiree snickered, Logan glanced back down at his best friend and smiled; he loved that he was the only one in the world that knew her through and through. Of course, she knew him just as well; they had been best friends since the fourth grade.
“Alright, let’s go!” Alex said jumping up and tossing a twenty onto the table.
Logan shook his head and slapped the small bill back into his cousin’s hand. “Don’t insult me with your pathetic pocket change.” He said and dropped a fifty on the table and rose to leave.
“Hey!” Brooklyn cut in stepping front of his as he pulled on his leather jacket. “We wanna race too.” She said smiling up at him and nodding toward Westley.
Westley gave Brooklyn a look and then gave in, “Let’s do this!” He said puffing up a little and the group headed outside to their cars.
“Hold it.” Logan said pulling out his iphone; “Alright, here we go.” He opened his google maps app and found their location, then held phone in front of Westley and Alex. “This is the track.” Both boys studied it and then nodded.
“No cheating.” Alex said giving Logan a hard look. “Since when have I ever cheated?”
Logan asked innocently. “Why would I even need to do such a thing?”
Alex just shook his head and tapped the same route into his iPhone to be sure. “Okay, let’s go.” He, Charlie and Ryan climbed into his black BMW and drove off headed towards the start of the “race track.” Westley, Brooklyn and James climbed into Westley’s beat up green cavalier.
Logan turned and smiled at Desiree, “Finally, I thought they would never leave.” He said and she smiled slightly, “What exactly the point of this race?” She asked looking a little bored. He shrugged, “It was either that or go home and watch backed up TVO. Besides it’s so easy to bait Alex when it comes to his precious BMW.” She nodded, “True.”
A few minutes later the three cars were parked in a straight line at the first coordinate awaiting Brooklyn to shout out go when her cell phone read 9:45 PM on the dot. “Go!” She shouted loudly, Logan slammed his foot onto the gas pedal; he could go 0-60 in 4.8 seconds. Alex’s BMW could not do that and Westley’s pathetic car could barely speed along the highway fast enough to attract a cop. Logan’s red Maserati pulled far ahead of the other two in a matter of seconds they disappeared from his rearview mirror. “Woo!” Desiree yelled and blasted the stereo with ((I dunno pick a band you think they would like)). Logan laughed as he continued rise in speed and whip around corners, he glanced at Desiree’s smiling face, a rarity these days. He was the only one that got to see that beautiful smile; the only one allowed knowing she even did that sort of thing. He began to sing along with the music and let go of the steering wheel throwing his arms in the air like he was on a roller coaster. He glanced back at the road, the coast was clear, he looked back her and whipped around another corner only using his knees. He could hear her laughing over the music and then a flash of light blinded him. The sound a screeching crunching metal and shattering glass filled hi ears. Something huge slammed into his chest and his head slammed into the headrest and then nothing.
“Logan! Logan!” Logan could hear his name being called, it sounded like he was underwater; the voices were so far away and the darkness closing in on him was unbearable. His chest ached and he found he couldn’t move his arms and legs, something was pinning him down. He tried to open his eyes but nothing happened, the inky black surrounding him was heavy and solid. “Logan! Desiree! Logan, wake up! Logan!” The voice, whoever was screeching was getting on his nerves as much as the darkness scared him he would rather delve deeper into it than awake to that girl screaming in his face. “Logan!”
Alex? Was that Alex no, no that was Westley? Logan tried to breathe again, gasping hugely. The darkness released him and his eyes finally opened as he gulped in air.
“He’s okay!” Westley exclaimed. He was so close Logan could smell his store brand cologne.
“Yeah, and I’ll be a lot better once you stop screaming in my face!” Logan muttered and tried to move his arms to rub his face with his hands.
“Oh sorry…” Westley said lamely and then backed away.
“I called 911 Logan, don’t worry.” Alex told him reaching out to touch his shoulder and then backed away. “Can you move?”
Logan shut his eyes his head was pounding and he could hear Charlie and Ryan both crying. “No.” He admitted and then panic struck through him. “Desiree!” He shouted and turning his head to check on her, the world spun and he swallowed vomit. “Oh. Des? Des?” He opened his eyes, she was lying limp [color-on the passenger seat the door was smashed up against her. Her upper body was slumped towards him. Her left hand seemed to reach out to him. He pulled his arms free of the steering wheel as blaring sirens came closer.
“Des…” He said quietly reach to touch her face, his chest ached and the movement caused sharp pains into his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright, Des, I’m here.” He said quietly speaking in Russian not wanting the others to hear or understand his compassion towards the only person he cared about in the world. Was she breathing? Of course she was, how dare he even consider such a thing? Nothing could take her down, nothing and no one. “I’m right here,” he whispered as an EMS team began pulling his car apart to pull them out.
Brooklyn laughed as she looked at Logan. It was the usual line of questioning. He seemed ever curious about their relationship. She found it amusing. As aloof as he pretended to be, he seemed to have to know things about people. She wasn’t deluded enough to believe that she could get him to do much for the information, but she loved the power over him for what it was.
For seemed like the millionth time, he asked, “So wait a minute, how far do you go exactly?” He chuckled as an attempt to lighten the desire to know behind his question, but Brooklyn knew better. She simply smiled at him and winked at James. “Awww…now, does it really matter?” She was sitting in Westley’s lap, and she turned and kissed his cheek. She glanced back over at him for a reaction.
“Yeah it does,” he said. She tilted her head to one side, retraining the laughter at his irritation. He was not the only one who desired the true story about their relationship. She found that it was way more fun to keep everyone guessing.
Brooklyn jumped at the idea of a race. Although she knew that no one could win against Logan’s car, especially not in Westley’s car, which was how she had gotten here, the idea thrilled her. What better was way was there to spend Thursday night than speeding through the streets of the city with the wind caressing your face? Brooklyn jumped up at Alex and Logan made to leave without them.
“Wait! You think we’re going to let you have all the fun?” she said as she stepped in front of him to block his path. She could just hear the insults whirling around in his brain about Westley’s vehicle and chances of winning, but none of them made it to his lips. She smiled at him, arms folded across her chest, an eyebrow raised above her bright green eyes. She wasn’t really asked for his permission, but he nodded to her as though that was what she had been waiting for.
Brooklyn watched as the old rivalry between Alex and Logan flared for what seemed like the tenth time today. She smirked. When she’d had enough of their of their little game, she stepped toward them, a hand on each of their shoulders, “Boys, boys, let’s just race.”
Alex conceded, “Okay, let’s go.”
Brooklyn raced toward Westley’s car, Westley and James close at her heels. She laughed, and climbed in the window of the truck before Westley even had time to unlock it. If not for her purple and black stripped stockings, everyone would have been able to see up her short jean skirt. This was not something that Brooklyn ever took notice of or cared about, but it was something that Westley had brought up a time or few.
“Come on, come on!” she shouted to Westley and James as they climbed aboard and took off. She was practically dancing in her seat between Westley and James as they headed for the starting point.
When her phone clicked over to 9:45 PM, Brooklyn shouted “GO!!!!” out the window as she leaned over James. He gave a her look for her volume, so close to his ears, but she ignored him, and turned her attention to the race.
“Sit, Brookie,” he said playfully like she was an overexcited puppy. She stuck her tongue out at him and returned to her own seat and Westley hit the gas and the old truck lumbered forward. When they finally reached a nearly acceptable speed, she leaned over James again and stuck her head out the window. Alex and Logan’s vehicles were well beyond shouting ranging, so she focused instead on other random vehicles and neighborhood cats, challenging them as the three passed. James and Westley, sure everyone in a 100 mile radius could hear her, both laughed at her.
A ways down the course, Brooklyn heard someone lay on the car horn and figured one of her friends had pissed off a tired driver on their way, blazing past, but as they rounded the corner, she gasped. Rubber tire marks swirled across the ground, leading to Logan’s car. Under the light of a street lamp, she could see the wreckage. Her mind hit worry instantly, paused at the thought of irony at the situation and continued on toward panic. The instant Westley’s car stopped, she was out the door and racing toward Logan’s car.
“LOGAN! DESIREE!!” She screamed as she slammed into the side of the car. Neither one of them were awake. Logan’s window was down, and Brooklyn reached through and felt his pulse and check for signs of breathing. Westley was next to her, shouting Logan’s name. Logan was alive. After several seconds, he stirred and looked around. Brooklyn forced a small smile as he chewed Westley out for the yelling. Yeah, he was fine.
Logan turned to Desiree, and whispered something to her in Russian. Brooklyn looked through the car and noticed her limp figure. She raced around to the other side of the vehicle and reach around the broken glass. Desiree had cuts all over her from the glass, and worse, a bleeding wound on her head. She wasn’t moving.
Brooklyn reached for Desiree’s cut wrist to feel her pulse. Nothing. Do not panic. It’s not always the easiest thing to find. Brooklyn moved to Desiree’s neck. Nothing. She slid her fingers along Desiree’s throat, but she couldn’t find anything that hinted at life. Worse yet, Desiree was an awful shade of white. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Her heart raced as she reached to unlock the door so she could get to Desiree, but a firm had grabbed her shoulder and realized the paramedics had arrived.
“She’s not…her heart…no pulse…” Brooklyn stammered, for once at a loss. As she slowly stepped away from the car, she touched her throat, stunned. There was moisture on her neck, she pulled her fingers back and looked at her hands. They were a little scratched up and bleeding, but they were also covered in Desiree’s blood. All of a sudden the smell of it hit her so hard she could practically taste it. She stumbled backward and screamed. Someone caught her, turned her around and pulled her close. “It’ll be okay,” James whispered in her ear.
The words kept coming over and over. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god…” Brooklyn stared blankly as James held her, then she looked at her hands again. Westley was wiping them off, but she could still see her blood, smell it, taste it. It was still there. “My neck…” she mumbled out in between the words that would not stop. “Oh my god. Oh my god. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” Westley had done his best to get it off, but it was still there, she could feel it. She began to vigorously wipe her hands on her tights. She pulled her shirt up and wiped the blood off her neck and then went back to wiping the blood on her tights.
Westley grabbed her hands, “Hey…it’s…it’ll be okay.”
She looked at him for the first time. “HOW DO YOU KNOW?!” she screamed. “I–” he tried, but she cut him off. “YOU DON’T KNOW THAT! SHE’S DEAD!” At the word “dead” Brooklyn stopped. It’s like it just hit her. Desiree’s dead. She dropped to the ground and pulled her arms around herself. She rocked a little like her mother used to do for her when she was little. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god…”
It was a good twenty minutes before they could get her up off the ground and back into the truck to head off to the hospital. Desiree had disappeared in the first five. As far as she knew, Logan was probably gone too. James and Westley stayed with her, although they undoubtedly wanted to know what happened to Desiree. She walked rigidly toward the car and climbed into her seat in the middle. She reached for her purse, which had fallen under James’s seat and felt around inside until she found her cigarettes. She stared blankly out the front window of the truck as she lit up, pressed the end against her lips and inhaled.
She could feel their eyes on her as Westley started the car and drove off, but neither of them said anything. She could feel two hands on her back, one from each of them. The drive to the hospital was absolutely silent. Brooklyn felt that they were all too afraid to say what they knew everything else was thinking. What if it’s not okay? She finished her cigarette, flicked it out the window and started on another. When they reached the hospital, Brooklyn lingered in her seat adjusting the mirrors, fixing her hair, checking her teeth, and then readjusting the mirrors. James finally just grabbed her arm and pulled her out.
“I was coming…” she said. She walked slowly. Whatever they found in the hospital couldn’t be good. Is Logan worse off than everyone expected? Did he break something? She didn’t allow herself to think about Desiree at all, even to imagine that they had fixed her and she was fine because that was too much to hope for. When they got to the waiting room, Brooklyn got into a fight with one of the nurses about her cigarette. She was not in the mood to hear people tell her what she could and couldn’t do.
In the end, James said something particularly nasty to the poor young woman and she disappeared. They never saw her again. Westley nudged her when she reached for another cigarette, and she sighed heavily and let her purse fall back against her body.
“Fine,” she said angrily.
From an older nurse in the lobby, they learned that Desiree was in critical condition and in surgery, but the nurse refused to tell them what her chances were. Brooklyn turned away from the woman and let the boys finish their conversation. Logan, they learned, was on the second floor, still unconscious from his sedative. They walked toward the elevator in silence. Brooklyn didn’t know how to take the news about Desiree. She felt that it was a little too soon to start rejoicing. The fact that she’d gone immediately into surgery did not seem like a good sign.
When they got to Logan’s room, he was asleep as the nurse had said. His father was standing over him, looking down at his son with a peculiar expression on his face. It was pain. She was sure the nurse had told him that everything was fine with his son, and yet he looked upset and she wondered if he was thinking about his former wife and what it would be like to lose another part of her. And there was always the fear of what could have been. Still, why not rejoice? Must be Desiree. Their families were very close.
Mr. LeBeau looked over at them suddenly as if he hadn’t heard them come in. The expression had already vanished from his face as he excused himself to get coffee. Brooklyn pulled a chair over near Logan’s head and sat down. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She hadn’t realized until this moment how tired she was. She looked over at the clock by Logan’s bed. It read 11:01 PM. She couldn’t believe it. It felt like at least 2:30 AM. She looked over Logan. He looked so much different lying there like that. Was it peace she saw in his eyes? Was this the unmasked Logan, pure for everyone to see? She almost laughed at the thought.
If only he knew what I’m thinking… The laugh broke through. James touched her shoulder and gave her a worried look. The smile vanished. When she looked back at him, she thought she saw movement. “Logan?” She stood up and touched his shoulder, “Logan?” He opened his eyes and looked at her for only a second before sitting up. When Alex tried to make Logan lie back down, Brooklyn suddenly realized that he’d been standing in the corner. It was so uncharacteristic of him to be so quiet; she hadn’t noticed him. Westley tried to bring Logan up to speed on the situation, but they didn’t really know very much and Logan wasn’t satisfied. Brooklyn had the feeling that he wouldn’t be until he could see her perfect again with his own eyes.
Logan left the room and everyone stared after him. minute later and headed straight for the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and all was quiet.
Charlie and Ryan came in a second later. “Where’s Logan?” she asked. No one answered her; everyone just turned and looked toward bathroom door. Brooklyn watched her walk over and knock on the door.
Logan answered that he was fine, of course, which they all knew wasn’t true, but no one questioned his words. Charlie looked back at the group, a helpless expression on her face. Brooklyn walked over and put her arm around Charlie, “He’ll be out soon, honey. I’m sure everything will work itself out.” Brooklyn found the words that she’d found so discomforting earlier coming from her own lips. Why do people insist on telling each other that everything will work out when they have no way of knowing or in some cases, know that it really won’t?
Mr. LeBeau walked back into the room at that moment. Brooklyn noticed that he was not carrying a coffee cup.
Charlie rushed over to his side. “Do you know anything yet?” she asked, hopeful. He shook his head. “They’re not going to call her father, are they? Oh I feel so bad for him. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose my whole family in a car accident and then several years– ”
Mr. LeBeau interrupted her. Brooklyn found it hard not to laugh. Charlie was very sweet, but sometimes it was that sweetness that got on other people’s nerves. Mr. LeBeau looked rushed. Without moving her head, Brooklyn looked around the room and began slowly backing against the bathroom door. She leaned against it with all of her usual ease and continued to look around and make sure that no one was watching her. She pulled an old receipt out of her pocket and silently pulled a pen from her purse. She quickly wrote, Anything I can do for you? Privacy, perhaps? -Brooklyn on the back side of the receipt, dropped it on the floor, and discretely pushed it under the door.
Brooklyn continued to lean against the door. She didn’t know what she was expecting. It was Logan after all. There was a chance he wouldn’t answer her at all. He was always so private about everything. Sure, she was private too. People didn’t know everything about her, and they probably never would, but she hadn’t built nearly the massive wall around herself that Logan had around himself. For the most part, she didn’t care if people saw her emotions. She didn’t like people to see her cry, but who did? Logan was a different matter. It seemed that he needed everything private, including his so obvious affection for Desiree.
What does it matter? She watched the people in the room interacting. Observation wasn’t usually her thing. She liked to be in the middle of everything with the attention on her. She sighed and listened for the sound of motion on the other side of the door. The hospital doors were heavy and thick. Brooklyn supposed that was to keep patients in line and to keep the hallways quiet and free of the screams of the administration’s victims. Brooklyn smiled at the thought. Oh well. She took a few steps forward, back into the room, just as the bathroom door swung open and Logan appeared in his hospital gown.
Under different circumstances, the view before her would have been quite comical: Logan bursting from a bathroom, his normally tanned skin a little paler than usual, a hospital gown flowing around him. It was so different from the usual Logan. He walked past her without saying a word. As he brushed past her, Brooklyn felt the receipt in her palm. She closed her hand and let it fall to her side. She watched him leave the room, his eyes on the floor a few feet in front of him. Charlie approached him with her usual concern, and he brushed her off as expected. “Well finally!” Brooklyn exclaimed loudly, eyes pointed at Logan’s retreating figure. Heads swiveled in her direction. She turned around, her cheeks reddening. That had worked too well. She reached for the bathroom door and pulled it open. “SOME of us had to use the bathroom!” she cried as she stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind her. She laughed nervously to herself. Well that was fun. She opened the crumpled receipt and looked at Logan’s reply. Bring cigarettes? Wow. Logan must really be having a rough day. As far as Brooklyn knew, Logan didn’t smoke. She shrugged to herself.
Brooklyn didn’t have to go to the bathroom, but she figured, despite the thick doors, she should make a good show of it, so she flushed the toilet and washed her hands before leaving the antiseptic, shiny white bathroom. She let the door slam behind her. There was no way she was going to be able to sneak out of the small room without everyone noticing. The heavy door didn’t slam like she had expected, but everyone did watch her exit the bathroom. With the main event elsewhere, it seemed that no one knew what to do with themselves. Brooklyn was surprised when everyone went back to their own conversations. That was easy, she thought as she slipped out the door. She took off running down the hallway. Logan was probably waiting for her. She knew she probably had an advantage, having walked into the hospital under her own power as opposed to Logan’s unconscious trip, but he’d left right away. There was also the multitude of maps and arrows scattered throughout the hospital to consider. All-in-all, when Brooklyn reached the courtyard outside the back entrance of the hospital, Logan was nowhere in sight. All she could see were some tables shaded by bright umbrellas decorated in the hospital’s colors, and a handful of doctors and nurses enjoying their short break in the warm sun.
Well, as long as I’m here, out in the fresh air… Brooklyn pulled the cigarette pack and her lighter from her purse and lit up. She was just about to put her pack away when Logan came through the glass doors to her left. Her smile brightened. “What took you so long?” she asked with a wink. He didn’t even smile, just let her know he didn’t want to talk and grabbed the pack she held out to him. She tried to stop him as he went to tap the box onto his hand, but it was too late and cigarettes flew out of her pack. She gave him a look. Maybe money doesn’t mean anything to you, but the rest of us have to pay for stuff ourselves. Now Eric might have given her this particular pack, but that wasn’t the point. “I guess you don’t go by the five second rule?” he asked in a very forced attempt at humor. She didn’t say anything, just took the pack out of his hand and handed him one. “I assume you know how to light them?” she asked with a condescending tone. He didn’t respond, simply lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. She laughed inwardly at the expression on his face. “That’s disgusting!” he exclaimed, while continuing to smoke. She smirked. It’s an acquired taste. She found this internal conversation with him amusing.
She took a deep breath, held the smoke in for a few moments and then slowly released it. She watched as the cloud of smoke escaped her lips. She sighed happily. Westley had refused to try smoking at all, and James had never been able to get past the initial phase that discouraged so many people. After a few minutes, Logan seemed to have had enough. He put out his cigarette and declared that they were going to find Desiree. Brooklyn didn’t try to argue that she wasn’t finished, or that he hadn’t even asked her if she wanted to go, she just put out her cigarette and followed him back into the hospital. Brooklyn noticed the meandering path Logan took to visit Desiree and wondered if he was biding his time or if was simply lost. She remained quiet, knowing that he would prefer silence. She couldn’t blame him, but at the same time, she felt that being alone with your own thoughts could sometimes be dangerous. Eventually, they found the right door, but Logan didn’t go in right away. He just stood outside, staring at the door. After a little while he said, “Westley and James must be worried.” It was a thin attempt, but she knew that it meant he wanted her to leave. “Yeah, probably,” she said. She usually made the habit of calling him on his lies, but today was no such day.
She turned immediately and walked back down the hallway they had come. She thought about going back outside for another smoke or perhaps wandering into a random patient’s room and striking up a conversation, but in the end, she decided it was best to return to Logan’s room. She was sure that people would be wondering where she was by now. Sometimes, sometimes she felt that her friends could be a bit too easily concerned. She was a butterfly, easily smothered. She had the feeling that Charlie would pounce the moment she got back. Brooklyn was pleased to find Charlie sleeping when she got back. Westley greeted her instead. “Hey,” she said as she crawled into his lap. Brooklyn didn’t notice Alex until he walked up to her and asked if she’d seen Logan. “No, but I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s a big boy; he can take care of himself.” Brooklyn listened to the tense conversation of the people around her. She fidgeted. She’d had enough waiting around. It would be hours, probably, before Desiree was out of surgery.
She’d had enough of the emotional strain that she could feel emanating from everyone in the room, with the exception of Ryan. That caught her off guard. Ryan had always seemed nice enough, but then, she and Desiree had never really gotten along that well. Still…when someone dies… The hours ticked by. One, two, three, four, five, six. Finally, unable to bare the situation, Brooklyn stood up, “I’m hungry. Westley? James?” Her stomach was upset, but it was something to do, something outside the tiny room.
She was inviting James and Westley, but hoped that none of the others would follow. Charlie was still sleeping, so that was good, but there was a chance that Alex might follow, just for something to do. There was also the chance that Ryan would want to come because she clearly didn’t want to be there at all. Brooklyn’s thoughts drifted back to the crash. It had been in the back of her mind since the crash and kept threatening to overtake her consciousness. Vivid images flashed through her mind. She could see it: twisted metal, Desiree’s limp form. She could feel the heaviness; she could smell the burning from the tires. She swallowed hard and a paramedic grabbed her shoulder. She jumped at the touch and looked around. She was standing back in the hospital. Westley had his arm on her shoulder, a worried look in his eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, smiling brightly at him, “Let’s go.”
Brooklyn was relieved that neither James nor Westley made a bit deal about the episode in the doorway. She wasn’t really ready to talk about it and she certainly didn’t want to do so in front of everyone. She started off down the hallway in the directions of the cafeteria. James walked next to her, but Westley lagged behind. She turned around and walked backwards, “What are you waiting for?” James gabbed Brooklyn’s arm and pulled her toward him by the wall. Brooklyn looked over in time to see a hospital bed fly past them and around the corner. Perhaps Westley had been wise to linger.
The hallways clearly weren’t a safe place to stand. Brooklyn looked back at Westley who was watching a nurse walk into Logan’s room. After a few seconds, Westley motioned for them to come back. Brooklyn moved quickly down the hallway and stopped right next to Westley. The nurse was talking about Desiree. She was out of surgery. Brooklyn breathed. She hadn’t even realized that she had been holding her breath. Desiree had made it through surgery. Does this mean she’ll survive? Brooklyn wanted to rejoice, but after what had happened that night she wasn’t sure if she could trust that Desiree wouldn’t die again later than night.
All of a sudden Brooklyn didn’t want to be at the hospital anymore. It was too much. I can’t do it again. Before Brooklyn could say anything, Westley asked if they could visit her. Brooklyn forced the images of Desiree’s limp form to the back of her mind. She concentrated on everything else. She looked over at Ryan and noticed her hair. Ryan had recently gotten a haircut and it cute. The curtain in the room was a pale pink, ideal for Logan’s taste. Brooklyn noticed that even the air had that sick and antiseptic scent to it.
As everyone headed out toward Desiree’s room, Brooklyn lagged back with Ryan. James slowed his pace to match hers. Westley and Alex were leading the way to the elevators toward ICU. Brooklyn leaned over to James and whispered, “I think I’ll catch up with you guys later. See you at the car?” in his ear. James put his arm around her and whispered back, “Brooklyn, it’ll be okay.” James didn’t let go as they walked down the hallway and into the elevator. He doesn’t understand. There were times when either Westley or James misread her, but they were few. She almost felt betrayed in that moment. She needed him, which he knew, but not why.
In the elevator, instead of leaning against the elevator, with one hand on the decorative metal railing, James just stood holding her with both arms. She leaned against him, relaxing partially at his touch, but part of her felt like an animal caught in a trap with the hunter quickly approaching. Her window of escape was narrowing. The group moved quickly through the hospital with everyone trying to match Alex’s frantic pace and long strides. It was easy for James and Westley, but Brooklyn and Ryan were shorter and less willing to follow. Westley paused at the door, looking hesitant.
Brooklyn hoped that maybe they wouldn’t have to go in. Westley started to say something along those lines, but Alex burst through the door before he even got out a complete sentence. Brooklyn stood in the doorway, eyes fixed on the ground. Everyone else was standing just inside the room, looking at the floral curtain. Logan’s angry voice came from behind the curtain. Brooklyn noted the pain that accompanied his angry tone. She didn’t want to say anything, but the words just came out. They were a plead for the others who had not yet seen her. “We know this is hard for you, but we’re her friends too.”
There was silence for several seconds on the other side of the curtain. Then Logan’s head appeared in between the folds of the rough fabric. His face was hard. “Get out.” He pronounced each syllable with venom, and not even Alex had anything to say in response. The group trouped back to the elevators where a brief fight broke out between Ryan and Westley. Brooklyn wasn’t paying attention anyone though. Her mind was still up in the ICU, wondering if everything would turn out alright. James held her. On the walk back to Westley’s vehicle, both boys were giving her worried looks. She wanted them to know what was going on, but didn’t want to face their questions in the car. She pulled a cigarette from her purse, lit it and began puffing. Westley and James gave her I-wish-you-wouldn’t looks, but neither of them said anything, even as she took her cigarette into Westley’s car.
((3:07 pm two days after the incident. They put her in a chemically-induced coma to protect her from shock.))
Everything hurt. Voices whispered somewhere nearby. She was so tired. Desiree listened to the voices for a little while. They were talking about her. After a long while, she opened her eyes. A curtain was draw around her bed and there were three people standing around her: a nurse and two men. The younger of the two rushed toward her. He reached out for her hand, his face full of concern, but she pulled away before he could touch her.
“What happened?” she asked.
The young man looked at her. There was something odd about his expression. She didn’t understand.
She looked around the room. It was a single room. She didn’t know why she was in the hospital, but from the pain resonating from every part of her, there must have been an accident.
“Did anyone else get hurt? Where are my parents?”