Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“Uh, Bailey,” I say, swallowing hard, after we get in her car. “Isn’t there a closer hospital?”
She aims an inquisitive glance at me, raising a single eyebrow. “Why? Are you feeling worse?”
“No!” I say quickly, worried that she’s going to floor it and speed her way down the highway. Bailey drives like a grandma most of the time, but I wouldn’t put it past her to break the speed limit if she thought I needed her to. “I just…” I cast around for a good enough excuse, find none. “Um, I’m kind of nervous to see your dad.”
“Nervous?” Her previously arched eyebrow ascends even further. “Why? It’s just my dad.”
“Well…” Because he’s the man of my dreams. And, as of a few minutes ago, I mean literally, the man of my dreams.
I cast about for some excuse.
“Well, because he’s going to know we were at a party,” I sputter, relieved to have something halfway believable to proclaim. “You know? He’s going to assume that we were drinking.”
“Well, I wasn’t,” Bailey said self-righteously.
“Yes, I know,” I sigh. “You can’t. You’re three months along.”
“I probably wouldn’t have, anyway. Who knows how they make that jungle juice and what goes into it?”
I think about the three cups of jungle juice I consumed and sigh.
“Yeah. Well. I didn’t drink much, but I still had some. He’s probably going to be able to smell it and think that I’m a terrible student and a horrible influence and even worse friend.”
“Kara,” Bailey says, taking one hand off the steering wheel to grasp my own hand. “He’s known you since we were in the fifth grade. He already knows that you’re a terrible influence.”
“Hey!”
She laughs and squeezes my hand. “I’m kidding. You’re the best person I know, and my dad knows it, too. And you turn twenty-one in, what, five months? It’s not like we’re fifteen anymore drinking hard lemonade in the basement.”
My mouth instinctively puckers at the memory.
“I guess you’re right,” I say, but my heart is still beating quickly. If Bailey knew the real reason why I’m nervous to see her father, she’d probably never speak to me again.
“I really do feel fine,” I protest, becoming increasingly nervous. “I don’t know that I need to go to the hospital at all. My head’s okay.”
Bailey merely shakes her brown curls.
“We’ll let my dad, the doctor, decide what kind of state you’re in, missy. Just sit tight. We’ll be there soon.”
“Okay,” I say miserably, and lean back against the seat. It’s already been an exciting night. Now with Rick Prescott waiting in the emergency room, what else could possibly happen?
3
Kara
In the emergency room waiting room, I sink into an uncomfortable chair, listening to the insistent beat of my heart. Adrenaline still courses through me, but this time, its source is different. This time, I’m panicking because Bailey’s dad, Rick, is going to enter at any moment.
What will he think of the state I’m in? What will he say? My legs are crossed and the top one bounces anxiously. I know he won’t blame me for what happened, just because I was drinking. He’s not that kind of asshole. But will he blame me for dragging his daughter to a party? What if she had been the one who had gotten hurt? I could never forgive myself, especially since she’s expecting.
“Bailey? Kara? Are you okay?”
I turn toward the emergency room’s automatic doors to see that Bailey’s boyfriend, Christopher, has arrived. Bailey immediately jumps out of her seat and runs to him. Christopher is Rick’s best friend, so I’ve gotten to know him over the years, too. He’s tall, like Rick, with wavy black hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Bailey buries her head in Christopher’s chest as he pulls her close. An image flickers to life in my mind’s eye: me in Rick’s strong arms, pressing my cheek against his chest, the top of my head nuzzled just under his chin…
Christopher comes over to me, and I blink rapidly, banishing the memories of my earlier dream.
“Hey, Kara. I just talked to Rick on the phone,” Christopher says, patting me on the shoulder reassuringly. “He should be out in any minute to take you to an exam room. Think you can hold it together until then?”
“It’s really not that bad,” I assure him, truthfully. The pain has largely subsided, and the bleeding has finally stopped. I once read somewhere that head wounds can look a lot worse than they actually are, and I suspect that that’s the case here. Still, it’ll make me feel better to have someone take a look at it--especially if that someone is Rick.
“I’m just so glad I found you when I did,” Bailey sighs, sitting on the other side of me. “I should never have left you alone with that asshole.”
“You had no way of knowing what a dick he was,” I tell her, noticing that her eyes are filling with tears. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. And besides, this will make a really great story someday, right? Especially if we stretch the truth a little and say you kicked that douchebag’s ass.”