Suddenly, things seemed to happen very quickly. As Ruthie was sitting, leaning her head on Elliott's shoulder, wondering if she was going to throw up, blue and red lights reflected off the ag and science buildings as police cars approached, silently but rapidly. Ruthie realized that Gordon must have gone out to the street to show them where to turn in, and she was again grateful to her friends. There were people who would've seen what was going on and turned away, she knew, because they wouldn't have wanted to get involved with Brett and his horrible friends.

As soon as she saw the lights, Linda left her place on Ruthie's other side and ran to get Dr. Perez, the principal, who was presumably still chaperoning the dance.

"I am so, so, sorry," Ruthie said in the brief silence while they were alone. "I'm really--"

"Whoa, whoa," Elliott said, putting a hand on either side of her head and looking at her in the blue and red lights, which were getting brighter. "Don't you dare fucking apologize to me, Ruthie. None of this was your fault. You should know that," he finished in a slightly accusatory tone.

"I'm not apologizing for what happened, exactly," Ruthie continued, grasping his wrists. "I'm apologizing for dragging you into this because of my very questionable taste in guys, present company excepted, of course."

"Seriously, RBG, what the fuck did you ever see in that animal?" Elliott asked, shaking his head with a little smile.

Ruthie smiled as two police cruisers pulled into the parking lot. Gordon was riding in one of them. "Honestly? He was really popular, and much older, and he liked me. It was kind of like being chosen by a celebrity."

As the officers got out of the car, they heard the sound of running footsteps, and Linda reappeared, followed by Dr. Perez and Ms. Piper. It was strange to see them running, Ruthie thought.

"Hi, Ray, hi, Kathie," Ruthie greeted the police officers, and she knew without looking that Elliott was smiling at her familiarity with the officers' names and who they were.

"Dear god, Ruthie, Elliott, are you okay?" Dr. Perez asked.

"I'm fine, but Elliott needs an X-ray," Ruthie answered immediately. "Brett Carmichael punched him in the stomach, hard enough to knock him to the ground."

"Looks like he got him in the face pretty good, too," Officer Kathie Consuelos said, putting her fingers under Elliott's chin in the dim light of the parking lot.

"I'm fine, honestly," Elliott said, irritated. "And while you're at it, Ruthie was hit, quite hard, in my opinion, by that lout Leroy Hunt--"

"What?" Ms. Piper interjected.

"Yeah, the inbred moron in our drama class," Elliott clarified.

"Elliott, shh," Ruthie begged, pulling on his hand.

But Officer Consuelos was already calling an ambulance.

"So tell me what happened?" Officer Ray Cornell asked.

Ruthie gave a concise, almost perfect retelling of what happened in the parking lot, with nearly photographic recall. Under different circumstances, Elliott would've been proud of her.

As soon as she was finished, Officer Cornell called in the names and descriptions of the five boys.

"And I suppose it silly to ask that my grandparents not be called?" Elliott spoke up next.

"Yes, very," Dr. Perez responded. "In fact, give me their number, please."

Elliott sighed and did as he was told, after which Ruthie did the same.

Elliott was hoping maybe the ambulance would arrive before his grandparents, but there'd been an accident on the freeway, and since that took priority over them, it wasn't going to happen. His grandparents showed up five minutes later, just as the police were getting ready to drive them to the emergency room themselves.

"Oh, god, Ruthie, I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry," Elliott said when he saw them.

"Why?" Ruthie turned to him in confusion.

"Elliott! Oh my goodness!" his grandmother called as she hurried toward them. Ruthie knew vaguely who the Nicholsons were, but this was her first time to see them up close. They were both kind of stout. Ms. Nicholson had salt and pepper hair in a typical old-lady updo, and was wearing dark stretch pants with a polyester shirt that had flowers on it.

"I'm okay, Gran, I'm okay," Elliott tried to reassure her.

She attempted to hug him and he held her off, explaining that he was "kind of hurt."

"Kind of hurt?" she repeated with a gasp. "What does that mean? I didn't even have time to get my glasses, so I can't see where you're hurt."

"Shirley?" Kathie interrupted. "Yeah, hi, we have to take Elliott and Ruthie to the hospital now, so you can follow if you want, okay?"

By that time Elliott's grandfather had arrived, though he didn't say much. He had white hair, and was wearing San Francisco 49ers sweats.

"Who's Ruthie?" Shirley was asking, her arm around Elliott.

"His date, Shirley," Kathie told her, making sure to speak slowly and loudly.

"Hello, Ms. Nicholson," Ruthie said with a little wave.

"Oh, call me Shirley, dear," Ms. Nicholson said, smiling at her. "I never knew who Elliott's been seeing these last weeks, he's so secretive about everything, you know?"

"He doesn't talk much," Ruthie agreed.

"Aren't you that Grimaldi girl?" Mr. Nicholson interrupted.

Just then, Ruthie's parents pulled up, the Toyota Prius roaring up like a tiny lion.

As her dads leapt out and came running toward them, Shirley looked from them back to Ruthie.

"Oh, but that means that you're, uh--I mean, you must be--you're from--"

And then Ruthie knew.

She looked at Shirley.

"Adopted?" She nodded briskly. "Yes, mm hm, I am, ma'am."

Shirley looked uncertainly back to her dads, who had nearly reached them.

"So that makes them those--er--the--"

"Lawyers?" Ruthie supplied. "Yes, that's them, ma'am. The good-looking dark one is my dad Todd, who stays home with me and mainly does research and briefs and things like that. The good-looking blond one is my dad Phil, and he's a State's Attorney in Sacramento." She smiled at Shirley. "Why, have you heard of them?"

Elliott had time to give her a secret smile of admiration when her fathers descended on her, putting their arms around her, asking what had happened. He was glad that, in every word that he could hear, he didn't hear anything that even remotely sounded like they thought he, Elliott, had done something wrong, and he was the reason she was hurt and the police had been called.

Ruthie just had time to tell her dads she was okay before they were being hustled into the back of the police cruiser for the drive to the hospital.

''What about Elliott?" Elliott heard Todd ask. "Is he okay?"

How kind of him to even think of Elliott at such a time.

"I'm fine, sir," Elliott said through the window.

"Okay, then, we'll see you guys at the hospital," Todd said, reaching in to touch Elliott's head, which, again, was such a touching thing.

"Hello," he heard Phil say to his grandfather as the cruiser pulled away, and he wanted to die of shame.

Next to him, Ruthie was saying, "It's absolutely ridiculous that I'm going to a hospital emergency room for a slap to the face, Elliott. I can't believe you told them that."

Elliott gave her a hurt look. "Where would you rather be, then? Back there with that lot, or in here with me?"

Ruthie blinked at Elliott, her expression almost ethereally beautiful to Elliott, like that of a madonna in a cathedral.

"And Ruthie, I'm so very sorry about my grandparents," he said, his voice serious and quiet.

Ruthie took a breath to speak, but just let it out after a moment and leaned in to rest her forehead against Elliott's.

"Well, at least now I know why you never invite me over," she said with a smile, that, again, reminded him of sculptures and the Italian Renaissance.

He carefully put his arms around her, though she didn't return the action, for which he was grateful.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"Not bad," he replied.

"Elliott, don't lie," she said. "I saw you tense up when you thought I was going to put my arms around you.

"And what about your face?" she added, pulling her head back a little so she could look at him. "I can't really tell in this light, but it doesn't look good, El."

"I'm fine," he reiterated.

They finally arrived at the hospital, where it was determined after X-rays and MRIs and various scans that Elliott was banged up, and maybe had a slightly bruised rib, but would be okay after a few days of pain. His face would be a colorful mess from the contusion, but would also be okay, and Ruthie wasn't treated at all, except to be given ice and a few pain killers which she promptly flushed down the toilet.

They left the hospital together just as the sky was lightening in the east.

"At least we don't have to go to school today," Elliott joked as they walked toward their cars.

Ruthie's dads got in the car to give Ruthie some privacy to say goodbye, but Elliott's grandparents didn't feel the need for such actions.

"Elliott, come on, please, we're exhausted, and you need to get to bed as soon as possible, too," his grandmother told him, holding the back door open. "We still have to pick up the Mercedes, too."

"I'll text you from the car," Elliott finally said, leaning in to give her a fast kiss before giving her a wave and heading toward his grandparents' car.

"Here, Pop, thanks, you can have this back," Ruthie said, handing him his Stanford sweatshirt, which she'd borrowed to mitigate the freezing temps in the emergency room.

"You're welcome, Rosebud," he answered, and Ruthie could tell he was crying.

Dad, who was driving, reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

"Please don't, you guys," Ruthie begged from the back seat. "I will if you don't stop."

"When I get that knuckle-dragger and his herd in a courtroom I'm going to make them regret the day they were born," Pop said, trying to wipe his eyes with the sweatshirt he was holding in such a way that Ruthie wouldn't know.

"Do we even know if the police have charged them with anything?" Ruthie asked.

"Of course we do!" Dad said as he merged on the freeway. "Assault and unlawful imprisonment, for starters."

"What?" Ruthie was exhausted, but she couldn't help but be loud when she responded.

"Honey, you told Kathie and Ray that they were holding both of you," Pop replied. "And maybe we can get it classified as a hate crime. You said they called Gordo a fag, right?"

"But Pop, that's just something they say, they didn't mean it--"

"Ruthie, listen to yourself," Dad said. "That's not what we taught you. Do those words ever, ever, not mean anything?"

"No," Ruthie answered.

"Speaking of which, I'd forgotten about the Nicholsons," Pop continued. "Poor Elliott, having to live with them for an entire year.

"Ruthie, what happened in England that he had to come live with Archie Bunker and his wife?" Pop asked.

Ruthie managed a smile at the little joke.

"I don't know," she admitted. "He won't talk about it. "All I know is that his mom died a few years ago, then his dad got remarried, and he was unhappy, then his dad died, then he found out there was no money for college, and he had to come here or something."

Dad whispered something to Pop, and they both got quiet, so it must've been something about letting her rest.

Then she got a text from Elliott.

So, so sorry about my grandparents, darling.

Ruthie savored the word "darling" for a few seconds before writing back.

Please. Everyone has family that they wish were different.

You don't. Your parents are perfect.

No they aren't. You just don't see their flaws yet.

Anyway. I'll talk to you later. Please rest, okay?

Okay.

After a minute, Elliott sent her
💜💐💜💐💜💐💜

Ruthie was secretly thrilled, because it was the first really romantic text that anyone. had ever sent her. He knew she liked flowers, and he knew purple was her favorite color.

How sweet. How wonderful.

She thought, and finally just sent him back

💚💚💚💚💚

Because green was his favorite color, and she didn't think he particularly cared for flowers.

When they got home, Pop actually offered to carry her upstairs.

She laughed, but was hit with a blast of solid fatigue on the stairs, and nearly collapsed.

"Whoops, gotcha, I gotcha, don't worry," Pop said, snagging her neatly behind the knees and her back.

"Thanks, Pop," Ruthie said. "I don't know what happened."

"You've been through a lot, it just hit you all at once," Dad said, hovering behind the two of them.

They helped her get into her pajamas quickly, something they hadn't done in years, and kissed her goodnight.

She was asleep in less than a minute.