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“How about you?” she asked. “Have you broken any hearts along the way?”
“Um, no,” he breathed. “I mean, I had a girlfriend during my senior year of college, and I dated, but nothing serious. You’re right, it’s just easier that way. Like you, I’ve been working on my career and haven’t really had much time for anything hot and heavy.”
“I guess that we’re just into casual—you know lite and fun,” Savannah said. He wondered where she was going with all of this, but it sounded suspiciously like she was about to ask him to have a casual fling with her and his answer was going to be a, “Hell yes!”
“I think casual might be fun, Savannah,” he admitted.
“Guys, are you going with the rest of us or not?” Norah asked from the front of the line. Somehow, they had moved on without them even noticing. How could he notice anything but Savannah when she was talking about having a casual, fun fling with him? At least, that’s what he thought they were talking about.
“Coming,” Savannah called. “You coming with?” she asked Brooks.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” Brooks mumbled. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t done talking with her. He wanted to ask her what she meant by talking about a casual fling, but he also didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of the entire gang. He’d never hear the end of it from the guys if Savannah turned him down flat.
“I’m coming,” he whispered, following her out to the go-carts.
Savannah
Savannah was finally working up the nerve to ask Brooks for what she wanted—a casual fling. Waking up next to him every morning for the last week made her want more—so much more, but she had to work up the courage to ask him for more. She just didn’t want to ask him in front of everyone else. She’d just have to wait until tonight, when everyone went to bed, to ask him. Then, if he turned her down, she’d sleep out on the sofa and figure out a way to save face. She just didn’t want her needs to screw up the summer for her or her friends.
Savannah hopped into the go-cart that the guy who worked there was holding for her. He went over where the gas pedal and brake were as if she had never driven a car before, and she nodded to let him know that she understood. “Thank you,” she called back over her shoulder as she took off a little faster than she planned. Those little go-carts really had a kick, and she was hoping to go slower to be sure she could handle it, but her cart seemed to have a mind of its own.
She got about halfway around the track when she tried pumping the brakes and realized that she had none. They weren’t working and panic filled her. She wanted to be calm and think things through, but there wasn’t a clear thought in her head as she sped around the last half of the track. Savannah shouted that her breaks were out as she sped past the guy who had given her directions before she started her trip in that death trap. The guy didn’t seem to understand what she was screaming at him as he smiled and waved at her like a loon.
“Help,” she shouted again, only to be ignored. She was on her own and the only way to stop the damn go-cart was going to be to crash it into something. She went around the track once more, trying to get someone’s attention, but everyone in her group was too busy having fun to recognize her distress.
Savannah knew that it was now or never. She needed to aim for the wall of the track, to try to show her cart down as she rounded the corner again and the sound of the metal hitting the concrete barrier made her sick. The hit jolted her but did little to slow the go-cart down. Instead, she had to go around the track twice more before she got the nerve to fully crash her cart into the concrete barrier, hitting another person in her efforts. The sound of metal grinding filled her ears as she spun around and around, finally coming to a full stop as the engine revved. The last thing she remembered seeing was Ginger and Brooks running in her direction from the track, and she wondered if she looked as bad as she felt.
“Savannah,” Ginger shouted as she made her way through the go-carts that had all been stopped so the people in them could see what was going on. The attendants were running over to her too, and she was sure that if she was okay, she was in big trouble for causing so much chaos.
Brooks got to her first, looking her over. “How bad is it?” she asked.
“Not bad, what hurts?” he asked.
“Everything,” she groaned. “My head hurts the most though.”
“Yeah, it looks like you hit it pretty hard,” he agreed. “I think we need to take you to the hospital and get you checked out. Can you move?” he asked.
“Don’t move her,” Ginger shouted, running up behind him. “I have 911 on the phone and the dispatcher told me to keep her in place and try to keep her awake. They have an ambulance on the way.”
“That’s not necessary,” Savannah slurred. “I can move.”
“No, you hit your head and you need to stay still. Help is on the way. Just do what I tell you to do for once, Savannah,” Ginger said. Norah, Colton, and Jude joined them and the concern on Norah’s face told her that she was probably worse off than she thought.
“Listen to her,” Norah insisted, “let the ambulance take you to the ER to get checked out. It’s for your own good, Savannah.”
“Fine, I’ll ride in the ambulance, but one of you has to ride with me. You know how much I hate hospitals,” she said. When her mother was getting her cancer treatments, she spent every day with her at the hospital. She hated that place. Savannah hated having to watch her mother suffer through hell and not get any better. The worst part was watching her father sit by her mother’s side, hoping for a miracle but never getting one. She hated hospitals for good reason and the last place she wanted to do was go to a hospital during her perfect summer beach vacation, but her friends were right—she needed to be seen.
“I’ll ride with you,” Brooks offered. “You can take my car and follow the ambulance,” he said to Jude, tossing him the keys. Brooks had an SUV that could fit all six of them, so when they all went out together, they took his vehicle.
“We’ll be right behind you, Savannah,” Ginger promised.
“Thanks, guys,” she said. “My head really hurts,” she said, raising her shaking hand to her forehead. She pulled it away when she felt something sticky and wet, realizing that she was bleeding.
“Don’t touch it, honey,” Brooks said. “I think that you might need stitches.”
“You called me honey,” she said, smiling up at him. At least, she thought that she was smiling. For all she knew, her face was a mess, and for as much as it hurt, hanging off half of her skull.
“Is that okay?” he asked. He knelt beside her, and he took her bloody hand into his own.
