Something’s obviously very wrong, but at least he’s breathing.
“Luke? Can you hear me?” I ask loudly.
Luke mumbles something incoherent.
“What’s wrong with him?” I ask, voice high. “What happened?”
“How much has he had to drink?” Gregory adds.
“I—I don’t know,” Teddy says, twisting his hands into his shirt.
“I saw him drinking from this,” some girl says, and a bottle is thrust into Gregory’s hands.
“Everclear?”Gregory immediately starts pouring the remainder into the sand. “Do you idiots have a death wish? This is almost one hundred percent alcohol.”
Luke groans and starts vomiting again. The three of us quickly roll him onto his side so he doesn’t choke. Even while getting sick, Luke barely seems conscious. His skin is too pale.
“He needs to go to the hospital.” There’s no way I can get him all the way to my house for one of my parents’ cars. I look between Gregory and Myles. “Did either of you bring a car here?”
Myles shakes his head. “Chuck picked me up on his way. I probably shouldn’t drive, but I can go find him—”
“My car’s here,” Gregory interrupts. He stands like we have no time to waste, and I think he’s right. “Let’s go.”
I stand too, then regard Luke on the ground.
“I’ll help you get him to the car,” Myles says and scoops Luke up into his arms before he rises.
People are staring as the three of us make our way to the grassy area where everyone parks. Headlights flicker when Gregory unlocks his car, and I open the back door.
Myles lays him across the bench seat as best he can, and I climb in and position Luke’s head in my lap. Gregory grabs a plastic bag from his passenger seat and dumps items out onto the floorboard before shoving the bag in my direction.
“In case he throws up again.”
I nod and take it.
“Keep me updated,” Myles says, his worried eyes on mine as he gently closes the door.
Gregory starts the car and peels out of the parking lot.
The hospital’s only ten minutes away, but it’s the longest drive of my life.
28PLAYLIST:what heartbreak sounds like
AS SOON AS WEarrive, Luke in Gregory’s arms and me explaining to the person in scrubs at the desk everything I know about what happened, they rush him back and leave us in the waiting room. With shaking hands I try to fill out paperwork, but I don’t know Luke’s exact birthday, if he has any allergies, or what insurance his mom has.
So I have to call her. I’m calling from Luke’s phone, because I only have Kat’s number in mine—and almost lose it when I find her contact under “Mom-O.” It’s cute and endearing but also feels personal, like I peeked into a part of Luke’s private relationship with his family. Something I wish I’d discovered under different circumstances. I don’t know what I’ll do if this ends badly, and the gravity of telling Kat’s mom that we’ve just brought her unconscious son to the emergency room hits me when I hear her voice.
Kat’s mom has always been so cheerful and peppy that the panic in her voice is foreign to me. I tell her everything I know, somehow getting through it without crying, but I hate that I can’t answer any of her questions. She says she’s on her way.
I think about calling Kat, but decide against it. After talking to her mom, I realize I have just enough information to scare her and not enough to assure her that things will be okay. I don’t even know if they will be, but I don’t want to let my brain go there. Her mom will tell her after she gets here and figures out how bad things are. Or, maybe she’s calling her now, and Kat’s dad. Even divorced parents put their differences aside for something like this, right?
Despite everything, I wish I could be with Kat when she finds out. She’ll need a friend, and even though he annoyed the crap out of her, I know how much she loves her brother. Do her new friends in Pinecrest even know she has one? A tiny voice tells me that even if they don’t, none of them have kissed her lifelong crush either.
Guilt gnaws at me, another layer of discomfort on top of my concern for Luke.
Finally I turn away from the registration desk and approach Gregory, who’s sitting with his head bowed, knee bouncing up and down. He tossed his hat somewhere into the passenger seat during the drive, so his hair’s all disheveled. He looks up when I approach and stands.
“Did you talk to his mom?”
