Death and the Girl Next Door

But it was too late. I was giggling. I saw a flash of pearly whites on Brooklyn’s face as she propped me up with a pillow. I was on my bed with no memory of how I got there.

“I know, I know,” she said. “What would we do without him?”

Glitch brought me some water. “Seriously, what’s up with your eyes?”

I tried to shrug, but my limbs felt weighted, like someone had filled them with lead when I wasn’t looking.

“Okay, never mind. We have about seven thousand questions. You up for it?”

I grinned behind the glass and finally pried the other eye open. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine,” Brooklyn said.

With that, I bolted upright. “Nine? Nine o’clock? Nine o’clock at night?”

“Oh yeah, she’s just fine.”

“Glitch, believe it or not, your comments are rarely helpful.” Brooklyn tried to ease me back down onto the pillows. “Yes, nine o’clock at night. We got here about six and found you sprawled all over the floor. Lor, what happened?”

“Oh my gosh, did my grandparents see me?”

“No, you begged us. Don’t you remember?”

“I begged you? When was this?”

“When we got here. You begged us not to tell your grandparents. You said you were fine, that Jared had saved you and not to call an ambulance. We helped you to your bed, then you passed out again.” Brooklyn tucked the blanket around me. “It’s a good thing your grandma can’t get up and down those stairs very easily. She didn’t even know you had come in.”

“And you’ve been here this whole time?”

“Yeah,” Glitch said from behind Brooklyn, “and so has the sheriff.”

Once again, I bolted upright. “The sheriff? Here?”

“He’s come by a couple of times,” Brooklyn said, biting her lower lip. “But we told your grandparents you weren’t feeling well. He’s supposed to come back at … well, now. And your grandmother’s making you chicken soup. We didn’t tell her you’ve been unconscious for the last three hours.”

“Why?”

“Because you begged us not to,” Glitch said as though I were simple. “Are you paying attention at all?”

“No, I mean the sheriff. What does he want?”

“I don’t know,” Brooklyn said, concern lining her eyes, “but he’s been looking for you since this afternoon. Since right after that earthquake.”

I choked on a half-swallowed gulp of water and coughed a good minute before I could speak again. “An earthquake?” I asked between gasps for air. “They’re calling what happened on the streets of Riley’s Switch this afternoon an earthquake?”

“I knew it wasn’t an earthquake!” Glitch raised his arms triumphantly and did a victory stroll around my room. It was a short stroll. My room was tiny. “It was a tornado.” He turned back to me in question. “Am I right?”

“In a way,” I said, squirming to find a less lopsided position. “Only there were two tornadoes. One named Jared and one named Cameron.”

That snapped them both to attention. Brooklyn gazed at me wide-eyed, a mixture of worry and curiosity in her expression.

“Okay, I’ll tell you everything,” I said, “but you have to keep an open mind. That means you too, Glitch.”

He scoffed as though offended. “When has my mind ever been anything but open? And don’t even bring up that whole turtles-are-innocent-and-kind thing. That doesn’t count.”

“All right,” I said. “Do you remember this morning…”

And so began the tale of my most improbable, most impossible Tuesday. I told them everything I remembered in great detail, finding no need to elaborate. The story itself pushed the limits of human comprehension.

When I finished, both Brooklyn and Glitch sat staring at me. For a long time. A really long time. They were either absorbing the information I’d just imparted or sleeping with their eyes open. I wasn’t sure which.

With tears sparkling beneath her lashes, Brooklyn spoke at last. “You mean, that truck really did hit you?”

“You heard about that?” I asked, my voice squeaking.

“Yes. Well, no. Kind of. One of those cameramen from the Tourist Channel burst into the café while we were sitting there. He said he could have sworn a truck hit a young girl with long auburn hair. He said you were gone, but he literally went around to all the customers and asked them if they’d seen anything. He said the town looked like an earthquake had hit it.”

“I don’t understand, Lor.” Glitch sounded hurt. The look on his face proved it. “How could this happen? Any of it? You could have died.” He stood and looked out the window. “You could have died.”

My heart swelled. My two best friends in the world had sat with me for three hours. Their concern warmed me. Their very presence made me feel new again. Well, maybe not new. Maybe more like a really good-quality secondhand. But still.

“I was dying,” I admitted.

“Don’t say that,” Brooklyn said, visibly shaken by my story.

“No, I was. Jared brought me back. I felt a life force surge through my body. I felt it.”

“What did it feel like?” Brooklyn asked.

“I don’t know exactly. Warm. Strong.” After a moment, I confessed with a whisper, “It felt like him, pushing inside me, healing.” I shook out the memory of his majestic touch with a forlorn sigh. “All I know is I was leaving and he brought me back.”