The Girl in the Road

Childhood Friends

Cam

I wait impatiently as Blue prattles off all the details about Aspen that he can think of—which, as it turns out, isn’t very many. In fact, all he seems to know is her last name, the fact that she’s eighteen, and what neighborhood she lives in.

“Rattler Row?” I repeat to Blue when the nurse steps off down the hall. “That’s a real neighborhood?”

He looks annoyed. “It’s just what they call it. I don’t know the real name.”

It’s almost worse that it’s “what they call it.” I don’t think I want to know why.

I glance through the window into her room. She’s off the phone, which means it’s safe to come back in. I start to reach for the door handle, but to my surprise, Blue stops me.

“The nurse said you saved her. Is that true?”

I shrug. “I brought her here.”

“After you found her in the middle of the road last night?”

I nod.

His dark eyebrows furrow together as he pieces together his next question. They don’t remotely match his hair, which, true to his name, he keeps colored bright blue. “Were you coming from Rebecca Johnson’s party?”

I stiffen at that. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, there’s a lot of drinking at those parties, isn’t there? I’m just wondering—”

“I didn’t hit her, Blue.” My voice is cold and hard, and I look him straight in the big, blue eyes as I say it. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

He holds my gaze just as firmly as he says, “I thought so, too.”

- - - - -

“You don’t have to stay, you know.”

It’s been about two hours since Aspen woke up. Blue hasn’t left her side—I’m starting to get the distinct impression that he’s in love with her, though I’m less sure what her feelings for him might be—and I’ve mostly just been pacing up and down her room, thinking.

I just don’t get it. Why did she lie to the nurse about her memory? Who did she call when she borrowed my phone? And why hasn’t her family shown up yet?

She looks different than she did when I found her. They removed her makeup, along with all her jewelry and accessories. She looks more fragile this way—more delicate.

No less pretty, though. If anything, even more so.

I can see a bit more of the tattoo that creeps up the back of her shoulders to her neck, but not quite enough to make out what it is.

I want to know. I want to know everything about her.

“I know I don't have to stay," I tell her. “I want to.”

“You don’t even know her,” grumbles Blue.

She ignores that. “I want to know about you two. You were friends before, right? Not just band mates?”

I’m not sure there’s anything I’d like to talk about less, but Blue seems perfectly happy to answer the question. “Sure, we were friends. You know—before he went and found better ones.”

“That’s not true,” I say, even though it sort of is. “You were the one who cut the cord, man. I still—”

“Please. You quit the band. You joined the team. You started dating everyone on the cheerleading squad. There was no place for me in your life.”

“I did not date everyone on the cheerleading squad,” I say a little too quickly. “And the ones I did date were at separate times—just to be clear.” This, of course, is for Aspen’s sake.

To my surprise, she just looks amused. “Forget your little breakup for a minute. How old were you when you became friends?”

I glance at Blue, who turns his nose up and away from me and avoids the question.

“We were childhood friends,” I explain to Aspen. “Lived a few houses down from each other.”

“But I only joined the band a few years ago,” she pushes. “And that was right after Cam quit. Right?”

“Childhood friends that became teenage friends,” I concede. “We were close.”

“Got it.” She chews on her lip—a notably pink, juicy lip, I can’t help but notice, despite the series of scars around it from the accident—before saying, “Maybe you could find a way to be friends again.”

“Please.” Blue rolls his eyes. “Cam doesn’t have time for me anymore. And he won’t have time for you, either, as soon as he gets back to his real life.”

Blue has a right to be angry with me for some things, I’ll admit, but I really wish he’d stop trying to villainize me to Aspen. I probably shouldn’t care quite so much what she thinks of me, but I do.

“That’s not true,” I mutter.

“Isn’t it? When are you going to come and see her, Cam? You’ve got practice every day after school, don’t you? And dinner with your clingy girlfriend and her perfect family after that? By which time your equally clingy mother will start bitching about how you don’t spend enough time with your own perfect family, and you’ll have to come home.”

For a split second, I really consider hitting him. Insulting Mel is one thing—not a nice thing, mind you, nor even fair, since Mel is a sweet girl who doesn’t deserve it—but... talking about my family?

I’m not sure what’s worse, him insulting my mother or him calling my family “perfect.” He knows they aren’t perfect. I’ve told him more about them than I’ve ever told anyone else.

“Blue,” says Aspen calmly. “Spending time with his team, his girlfriend, and his family aren’t exactly crimes.”

Have I mentioned that I really like this girl?

“You don’t get it,” says Blue impatiently. “He won’t—”

But before he can finish, the nurse comes back in with the same sour, unpleasant look on her face as before.

“Ms. Hart,” she says to Aspen. “I’m sorry to say we still haven’t been able to get in touch with your mother. Is there any chance more of your memories have started to come back to you? Perhaps you could give us an address, and we could send someone to notify her?”

“Sorry—no.” She doesn’t sound particularly sorry, nor particularly honest. “Look, there’s really no need. We know I'm from Rattler Row, right? When it’s time for me to go, Blue or Cam can take me there, and I’m sure that'll jog my memory enough to get me home. I’ll call with a credit card number when I get there. Okay?”

The pragmatism and lack of emotion in her voice is a bit unsettling. It’s like she thinks all the nurse cares about is getting money out of her. Surely that isn’t true, right? Surely the nurse just wants to help her notify her family so they know she’s okay?

Judging from the nurse’s reaction, though, I think Aspen might be closer to the truth than me.

“Very well,” she says, scribbling something else onto her clipboard. “The doctor wants to keep you for observation for a few days. If you remain stable, and pass your psych eval, you’ll be released on Tuesday. We’ll have you leave as many details as you can remember with the front desk when you check out.”

“Psych eval?” asks Blue, frowning. “Is that because of the memory thing?”

“Yeah,” says Aspen a little too quickly, crossing her arms. “It’ll go fine.”

She and the nurse exchange a brief, silent glance that suggests to me there might be something more to it than that, but I have no idea what that might be, and neither of them does or says anything to give it away. Frankly, I’m still stuck on the fact that she lied about her memory. As soon as the nurse is out of earshot again, I word-vomit to Aspen, “You lied about your memory because of money?”

For the first time since she woke up, Aspen actually looks at me with a hint of animosity. “Is that really so hard for you to believe?”

Well… yeah, actually, it is. I mean, I know there are those less fortunate and all, but it’s not like this girl is homeless. She looks, talks, and acts like someone who could run in… well, not my circle, exactly, but certainly Blue's. She obviously doesn’t go to Hollis, but the public school, Rucker High, isn’t exactly slummy.

“Don’t worry about that,” Blue tells her quickly. “I’ll put my card on file with the front desk. I’m sure Mom and Dad would be happy to—”

“No,” she says immediately, turning that pale blue glare onto him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t be silly, Aspen. You know they love you. And they have plenty—”

“Don’t,” she repeats firmly. “I’ll figure something out.”

But I’m starting to get the feeling she won’t.