I turned to leave him, but something stopped me. The one thing nobody had mentioned all morning. ‘Who was the girl?’ I asked quietly.
He looked up blankly.
‘The girl, the one who got hurt. Is she from here?’
Weber nodded. ‘Crystal Keller. Doctors say it doesn’t look good.’
I called the hospital for an update. The nurse wouldn’t talk, but when I said I was from the sheriff’s department, she relented. There was no change. Head trauma, blood loss. Crystal was in a coma.
I sat behind the front desk, frozen, and thought back to last night: doing makeup in the diner, and the look on Crystal’s face when she talked about getting to California someday. She’d been kind to even invite me to that party, a brief flash of friendship in my lonely day. It was only a few hours ago; a few drinks, a few hairpin curves in the road.
They didn’t know if she would wake up.
It felt wrong for the world to somehow keep spinning, but it did. The deputies needed their lunch orders phoned in; people came to complain about parking tickets and the neighbour’s overflowing trash. In the end, it was almost a relief that the calls kept coming, occupying my thoughts. By afternoon the calls had slowed, and I had time to even think again, snatching time for a sandwich at my desk.
The front doors swung open. I braced myself for a parent or pissed-off deputy, but instead, it was a familiar face.
Oliver.
I tensed. ‘What do you want?’ I asked, putting down my lunch.
He sauntered closer. I hadn’t seen him in a week; he was cleanly-shaven and had a haircut now, but was wearing the same outfit as before: slim-cut dark jeans and a white shirt under his coat, blonde hair falling over his angular face. He hugged his arms around himself, exaggerating a shiver. ‘Brrr. Is it just the icy reception, or is it cold in here?’
I paused. I’d been the one to overreact before, making a scene out of nothing. And besides, he was Ethan’s brother. I pasted on a smile. ‘Sorry, it’s been a weird day. Can I help you with anything?’
‘Yes, you can.’ Oliver planted his hands on the front desk and smiled across at me. ‘I came to make amends.’
I blinked, surprised. ‘You did?’
‘Ethan explained about how much stress you’re under,’ Oliver’s eyes swept around the room, taking it all in. ‘He wants us to be friends, so I’m here to let bygones be bygones. What do you say?’
He turned back to me and gave a wide smile, but it wasn’t open and guileless like Ethan’s; there was something more, almost amusement in his eyes.
‘Sure,’ I said slowly. ‘We’re fine. No problem.’
‘Good. Then let me take you out for a drink,’ Oliver announced.
I paused. ‘I’m underage,’ I said carefully.
‘You can drink things other than alcohol, can’t you?’ Oliver’s lips quirked at the edges. ‘Coffee, tea, a nice refreshing lemonade . . . What time do you get off work? We can drive into town, have some dinner even.’
I stared at him, thrown. It sounded like he was asking me out on a date. But of course, that was impossible. My mind raced. ‘Sure,’ I replied at last, deciding to act oblivious. ‘Sounds good. Ethan’s picking me up, so we can all go together.’
Oliver looked amused. ‘That’s not exactly what I had in mind.’
‘Oh?’ I made my eyes wide and confused, tidying some paperwork on the desk. ‘What did you mean?’
Oliver’s hand shot out suddenly, grabbing mine. I froze, shocked at the touch. He was studying me, those blue eyes narrowed and quizzical.
‘You shouldn’t play dumb,’ he murmured. ‘You’re better than that.’
I stared back, my heart racing. Then he slowly released my hand.
‘Another time then.’ He smiled, nodding. ‘Tell baby brother I said hi.’
I watched him saunter out, still reeling. What had just happened made no sense: for him to ask me out like that, and then . . . ?
You’re better than that.
I cradled my hand to my chest, still feeling where he’d held it. I stood there, dazed, until the phone started ringing again and I went back to work, but all afternoon I couldn’t shake the memory of him watching me, his lips curled in that curious smile: as if he was in on a private joke.
As if he knew something about me I didn’t.
I was still on edge when Ethan picked me up from my house after work. I’d deliberated over telling him about Oliver, but any way I framed it, it all came together wrong. He’d come to apologize and invite me for a friendly drink – on the surface, it was all too innocent to matter.
Better not to say anything at all.
‘You hear about the crash?’ Ethan asked, right away. ‘Did you know her – Crystal?’
‘No, not really. It’s been non-stop at the office,’ I said quickly. ‘Can we just not talk about it?’
‘Oh.’ Ethan paused. ‘Sure, whatever. Want to go back to mine?’ He leaned over to kiss me.
I shook my head. Oliver was the last person I wanted to see. ‘No, it’s too crowded there. Let’s go somewhere we can be alone.’
Ethan grinned. ‘I like the sound of that.’
He drove us out past town, around the lake to his dad’s construction site. Our headlights cut through the dark woods, the trees bare now, the ground littered with dead damp leaves.
I wondered if Crystal had driven on these roads. If she’d seen it coming. If she’d been scared at all.
I’d thought about stopping by the hospital, but I knew I’d just be in the way. I wasn’t close friends with her, after all, and it would be wrong to linger there as if my concern was any use at all.
‘. . . Chloe?’
‘What?’ I snapped my head around. Ethan was waiting on me.
‘I said, did you hear anything back about those classes?’
‘Oh, yes.’ I shook away the darkness. ‘I signed up for a couple of credits. English and modern history.’
‘What? That’s awesome!’ Ethan exclaimed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I . . . I forgot.’ I shrugged. ‘I’ll start next week, it’s not a big deal.’
‘It is to me.’ Ethan reached across and took my hand, bringing it to his lips. ‘I got a good one.’ He smiled. ‘Pretty and smart.’
Soon, we were turning on to the construction site, the security lights set up around the buildings, pale in the night. Ethan helped me down from the truck and across the muddy ground to the bare bones of the development. I’d seen it before, back when it was all bare ground and wire markers, but now it was taking shape: the foundations laid, concrete blocks, with steel girders and wooden beams making the framework of the houses.