“Yeah, I’m good. See you at home.”
We drive back, and when I pass that area of the road again, I look straight ahead, not looking at the sign and the flowers marking where the guy was hit. Why did people leave that stuff there? I thought they only did that if the person died.
What if he did? What if he died today? I have to get home and find out.
Back at the house, I race to my room, telling my dad I’m tired and going to bed. I fire up my laptop and search for any updates, but all I find is stuff I’ve already read.
I get out my phone and call Briggs. A week ago, if you told me I’d be calling Briggs Chadwick III, I would’ve laughed and told you you’re crazy. He’s the last person in the world I’d ever want to talk to, and now I’m calling him.
“Ella?” he says, his voice sounding groggy.
“Yeah, were you sleeping?”
“I was. I fell asleep watching a movie. What’s going on?”
“Is he dead?” I whisper.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
I go in my closet and sit on the floor, facing the wall so there’s no chance my dad will hear me.
“That guy,” I say. “Did he die?”
“I don’t think so. Why? Did you hear something?”
“No, but I drove by there today on the way to get the truck and there was one of those roadside memorials set up. There were some flowers and a sign with a bible verse on it. People usually only do that when someone dies.”
“I don’t think he’s dead. Last I heard, he’s still in intensive care.”
“Did you hear anything else? Did they release his name or anything about him?”
“No, they still haven’t identified him. Who walks around without a wallet or ID? The whole thing seems suspicious.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, like... maybe he wanted to get hit.”
“What? That’s insane.”
“Not if you want to die. What if he was trying to commit suicide?”
“That’s not what he was doing.”
“You don’t know that. Why else would he be walking on a dark road at night? Finn swears the guy was in the road when we came around the turn. He had to have heard us coming, and he doesn’t get out of the way?”
“I don’t think it was suicide. And what does that have to do with him not having ID?”
“If you’re killing yourself, you don’t need your wallet.”
I hear a man yelling something in the background and banging on a door.
“I have to go.” Briggs ends the call.
That was abrupt, not that I wanted to keep talking to him.
Tomorrow we’ll all be back at school, and I’ve been wondering what will happen. Will the guys be their usual asshole selves, or will they treat me differently now that we’re drawn together by this secret?
* * *
