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I should have stayed at the party and not thought twice. I should have stayed with that chick begging me for a second round, but I can’t even remember her face now. It doesn’t even matter; she doesn’t matter. I want to forget anything that happened before this moment.
“Yeah, lucky break, I guess.” I shuffle towards the ambulance, and they close the doors after I jump in next to Alaska.
“Is she your girlfriend?” The EMT is unwrapping something, and I nod and then shake my head. “Don’t worry, she’s going to be fine.”
The EMT reaches and taps my hand with her latex glove, trying to give me comfort. But I don’t deserve it; I don’t deserve any of this brush with death and ending up lucky.
“She has to be.” It is a selfish reason, not because I want her for myself. But to keep my conscience clear of any demerits. “She has to be.”
The EMT gives me a kind smile. I ignore her and watch Alaska’s chest rise and fall. Both my hands clasp around hers, and I don’t let go until we reach the emergency room.
They take her away, and I start to pace back and forth, thinking my scholarship is fucked, my life is fucked. If they test my blood for any drugs, I am beyond screwed. There goes my future as an Olympic swimmer. Any chance of a gold medal will be death with a defamed hero before he ever got to the podium.
I can kiss any sponsors goodbye, my collegiate chance at nationals. Everything is burning from one single stupid moment.
“Lad? Are you okay?” Dad rushes in and brings me into a hug.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little sore.” I rub my neck and Dad’s eyes go wide.
“Let’s get you checked out.” Dad tries to find a doctor and tells them I came in with the other two people involved in the accident. But I zone out, and soon I am ushered into a curtain-closed section where doctors check for bruises. But I tell them I am fine, my shoulder and neck hurt.
Luckily, they don’t check my blood; they examine me and I answer all questions with flying colors.
“I am just a little rattled.” It’s a good confession as the doctor makes notes.
“As any of us would be. I am going to prescribe you some painkillers to help with the pain. It is most likely a side effect of your accident. Don’t take them if you don’t need to; opioid addiction isn’t a joke. Can we trust you to be responsible?” The doctor smiles and I notice my dad check out her left hand for a ring.
“Of course, you can.” I give her my word.
“I have heard great things about you, Lad. It’s nice to meet you and your father. Sorry, the circumstances aren’t better.” I nod, Dad shakes her hand, their eyes linger a little too long and I cough.
Dad has been single since I was nine. Can’t really blame a guy for playing the field and getting his game on. But maybe in the emergency room isn’t the best flirting tactic.
“How are the others? Are they okay?” The doctor shifts her eyes to the floor and my gut gets strangled.
“Your friend will be okay; her left leg was injured, but nothing major. She is in surgery now. Um, the other woman, her mother, I believe, was DOA.” The doctor’s fingernails tap on the clipboard.
“DOA? What’s that mean?” I shake my head and think of an expanded acronym fitting those letters.
“Dead on arrival, son.” Dad stands and walks over to me. He rubs my back like I might cry, and I think I might. But not because a woman has lost her life. That is my second thought. My first thought is I killed her. I killed Alaska’s mother on our graduation night.
Alaska had every right to call me an asshole.
“Oh, Jesus.” And I fall to my knees and clench my stomach so hard I lean over to the garbage and throw up. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Dad. She can’t be dead; she can’t be.” I am shaking my head, and the smell of vomit makes my head woozy and spin. I lean over the garbage bin again to throw up anything left of my celebratory time at the party.
“Hey, son. It’s not your fault; you did the right thing; you tried to help the best you could. The officers told me what happened.” Dad is kneeling on the ground next to me.
“They did?” My eyes are red as I rub away the memories of my truck nearly demolishing theirs.
“Yes, and I am so proud of you for doing the right thing. The officers said that after they hit your truck, you got out, helped them, and stayed with them until the ambulance came. That is the kind of man I raised, Lad.” Dad has pride in his voice, and I look away into the vile liquid below us. “We are so lucky you weren’t hurt; that would be terrible. I am so glad you are okay, son.”
I take a long, lasting look into my father’s eyes and see relief. I don’t want to disappoint him; he has been by my side since day one. If I tell him the truth, it will crush him; it will ruin his image of his perfect son. But in my chest, the shame builds and blinds me.
I can hear Dad talking to the officers outside the curtain. But I can’t find the right words, so I say nothing. I get up to the sink wash my face, hands and rinse out my mouth.
“Test results came back from the girl. She had alcohol in her system, drunk driving it appears. The other woman appears to have broken bones and other injuries. Who knows their story until the girl wakes up? It is going to be rough waking up to realize your mother is dead and you are being charged with drunk driving.” This is the short officer; he and my dad talk like they are buddies.
But I get that sick feeling again. I was so terrified about my life getting ruined; I didn’t realize it was Alaska’s torched in flames next to me.
