“Kade!” Park yelled again.
Suddenly, Marissa burst around me. She ran past my Escalade, heading in Park’s direction. A burst of bright lights lit up. She stopped in the middle of the lot, frozen in place.
It happened so quickly, but it was in slow motion at the same time. Her eyes got big, her mouth opened, and she let out a scream as she held a hand up before a truck barreled into her. Her body hit the front of it and flew in the air. I watched as her body flipped an entire 360 degree circle and fell to the ground ten feet away. Her body bounced and settled back down with a thud.
I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened, but as quick as that thought flashed through my mind, time slammed back into place and I took off running. “MARISSA!”
The truck had screeched to a halt as soon as it hit her, and a door flung open. As I raced past it to where Marissa laid ahead, I heard someone say inside, “SHIT! Who was that?”
I stopped paying attention. Marissa was my focus. Getting to her side, I felt for her pulse. It was there. She was alive, but she was unconscious. I looked back up. I was going to tell Park to call nine-one-one, but instead I saw him leap into the truck. Before he shut the door, he pounded his fist on the dashboard and yelled out, “PUT IT IN REVERSE! YOU HIT A GIRL! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”
“FUCK!” The truck sped backwards, its lights right on us. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were watching me.
They hit her on purpose. No. They hit her by mistake. I had been the target. My mind was reeling and I felt vomit coming up my throat; I shoved it down. That fucker. I reached for my phone in my pocket, but I had a hard time getting ahold of it. My fingers kept slipping. As I finally got a firm hold and pulled it out, I dialed nine-one-one. The truck got to the opening path and careened to the right, whipping the front around.
I lifted the phone to my ear, my one hand on Marissa’s shoulder, and saw Park in the window. His eyes met mine. He flinched, and his eyes slid down to look at her. I saw fear come over him. Good. The fucker was going to burn.
Then I heard the operator answer, “Nine-one-one, what is the location of your emergency?”
CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN
SAMANTHA
The bus ride home was the longest thing I had ever endured. My heart was breaking a little more with each mile we passed. I couldn’t stop envisioning Logan’s face. He was hurt, by me. I had done that, and I knew, even before we talked, that it was because I had kept Tate’s words from him. I should’ve confronted him right away, even if it was true, I should’ve. Mason would’ve wanted me to.
When we got to the school, any other time I would’ve received well wishes and congratulations. This time, everyone was silent. They were all watching me and Kris. As soon as we got off the bus, I was going to my car and heading home. I already knew what I was going to do when I got there, even if people were there or not. As it was, I was lucky. No one was home. A note was left on the kitchen counter for me. Malinda and David were out on a date. I shouldn’t expect them home, and Mark was out with Cass. I scribbled my own note beside it.
I’m going to Mason’s. Be home Sunday night. Late. Love, Sam.
I went downstairs and started packing a bag. Everything in me hurt. I had to get to Mason. I had to tell him the truth, and I had to know that everything was going to be okay.
Knock, knock
I stopped, my heart pounding. It was Logan. He had come to talk about this, deal with it, and get it out of the way, but when I whipped open the door, he wasn’t standing there.
It was my dad.
“Garrett?”
“Hey, Samantha.” He had a timid smile, holding a bag in front of him with his coat tucked over one of his arms. “I, uh, I know you wanted time. I’m supposed to wait for you, but I’ve never been good with being patient.”
My lips pressed together and I crossed my arms over my chest. I had wanted it to be Logan. Badly. “What do you want?”
“Uh.” He lifted a hand and raked it through his hair. It was then that I noticed he was dressed in a suit and tie. Even his shoes looked rich. The last time I saw him had been at Logan’s football game. He always emanated wealth, even when he was dressed in jeans and a sweater.
He was not like me. He was so far from me.
“I have to fly back to Boston. I had hoped to come tomorrow. I wanted to give you a present. David told me about your race, that you won, and that you will probably get a scholarship. I wanted to say congratulations.”