Heather
×××

It’s way past midnight when we finally leave. My mother's words are a steady stream of praise for the evening, and her voice sounds like an endless drone next to me.

She keeps babbling about how wonderful everything was, how much fun everyone had, and how proud she is of me.

Her words don’t quite reach me. "Yeah, Mom, it was great," I mumble, nodding, but I am not really paying attention. I am still thinking about Robin.

The way she stormed out, the way she looked at me—like I was the one who betrayed her. But I didn’t, did I? I didn’t even know. She had to know that, right? I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

But she was furious, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time my mom says something, it just feels like background noise, like I’m underwater.

I can’t focus on anything but Robin’s face, how her eyes blazed with hurt, anger, and confusion.

Back at my parents' house, I sit in my old room, staring at my phone. The glow of the screen is harsh in the dark. I swipe it open, my fingers hovering over Robin’s contact. I don’t even hesitate before dialing her number. It rings and rings, but she doesn’t pick up.

“Come on, Robin,” I mutter under my breath, my thumb hovering over the screen as I try again.

The dial tone is the only answer, mocking me.

What if she’s really done with me? Can I even blame her? I would want to be done with me too.

I set the phone down and lie back on the bed.

Sleep doesn’t come easily. When it finally does, it’s restless—filled with flashes of Robin’s face.

I keep calling her name, but she never answers.

The next morning, the smell of coffee wafts through the house.

My head is pounding, my body heavy from the tortured sleep. I drag myself out of bed and check my phone immediately.

No messages.

I toss it back onto the bed and head downstairs. My dad is already at the table, flipping through the newspaper, while my mom is bustling around with pancakes and eggs and coffee.

“Morning, honey,” she says, her tone too bright for how I’m feeling. “You slept in a little. Sit down, I made breakfast.”

I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”

She frowns. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly. “Just tired.”

My dad looks up from his paper, studying me with a furrowed brow. “You sure you’re okay? You seemed off last night too.”

“I’m fine,” I snap, immediately regretting the sharpness in my tone. “Sorry. I just… I will go take a walk.”

Before either of them can press further, I walk out to the back yard.

I stand at the balcony, staring at nothing when my phone rings. For a second I think it's Robin, but when I check it, it's the opposite of what I want right now.

I answer quickly despite myself. “Hey.”

“Hey, pretty,” he says in his usual easy-going tone. “I hope you had your beauty sleep and you're feeling better than I am. Me? Not so much. I’m on my way to the hospital because Robin was drunk driving. Can you imagine! Who does that anymore? She's so reckless.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath catches in my throat. Did he say hospital?

“What?” My voice cracks. “Javis, is she—”

“Don’t know yet,” he cuts me off, his voice flat. “I’m on my way to find out.”

Drunk driving? My stomach twists. I should’ve done something. I shouldn’t have just let her storm off last night. I should’ve followed her. I should’ve—

“Do you need me to come to the hospital?” I blurt out, barely able to form the words through the panic rising in my chest.

“No,” Javis replies quickly. “You don’t need to come.”

“I'm coming,” I snap. He probably doesn't understand why I want to be there so badly. “Tell me where she is. I want to be with you through these hard times,” I add for effect.

There’s silence for a beat, and then he sighs, resigned. “Fine. St. John’s Medical. But seriously, don’t feel like you have to come. You don’t owe her anything.”

I hang up, my hands shaking. Robin could be hurt—or worse. My heart races as I try to piece together what to do next.

I rush to my room and change into jeans and a blouse.

“I’m going out,” I announce, grabbing my keys from the counter.

My mom looks up from the stove, startled. “What? But you haven’t eaten anything.”

“I’ll eat later,” I say, already halfway to the door.

“Heather—” my dad starts, but I’m already gone.

The drive to St. John’s Medical feels like it takes forever, even though it’s only twenty minutes away. My mind won't stop racing the entire way, running through every possible scenario and all the what if's.

I can’t think like that. She’s fine. She has to be fine.

I park hastily and rush into the hospital, barely taking a moment to orient myself.

At the front desk, a tired-looking receptionist glances up at me. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Robin,” I say, my voice shaky. “Robin—uh, I don’t know if she’s under her full name or—”

“Are you family?” the receptionist asks, cutting me off.

“No, but—”

“I can’t give out patient information unless you’re family,” she says firmly.

I grit my teeth, frustration bubbling to the surface. I should have said yes.

“I just need to know if she’s okay. Please.”

The woman softens slightly, her eyes flicking over me. “I’ll see what I can find out. Wait here.”

I nod, stepping back and pacing nervously. Every second feels like an eternity. Finally, she returns, her expression neutral.

“She’s stable,” the receptionist says. “That’s all I can tell you.”

Relief floods through me, making my knees weak. Stable. She’s stable.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

I don’t leave the waiting area, though. I can’t. I need to see her, even if she doesn’t want to see me. Even if she hates me.

I send Javis a quick text: I’m here. Where are you?

Second floor.

He replies.

I find him slouched in a chair, looking as exhausted as I feel. He glances up as I approach, his expression a mixture of annoyance and concern.

“You didn’t have to come,” he says.

“I did,” I reply simply. “Is she awake?”

“Not yet,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face. “They said she’s stable, though. She got lucky. It could’ve been worse.”

Lucky. The word feels hollow. She shouldn’t have been in this situation at all. If I’d done something—if I’d stopped her—this wouldn’t have happened.

Javis must see the guilt on my face because he sighs.

“Don't let it bother you, Robin is just careless like that.”

I nod with a smile but refuse to believe I had no hand in this.

××××

Thank you for reading and being patient with me.