Page 37 of I Would Stay Forever (Parkhurst Prep #2)

twenty-three

“Have I told you I hate you lately?” I asked Molly through gasps of air.

“I think it’s been at least ten minutes,” she said from the next treadmill over.

I took some satisfaction in noticing that she was even more out of breath than I was.

I didn’t waste my time in repeating how much I hate her, but from the next treadmill over, Paige chimed in with it.

A second later, Molly’s phone beeped with the end of the timer and we all practically collapsed off the treadmills and onto the gym floor.

I didn’t even want to think about how disgusting the ground must have been as I sat on it, feeling like my lungs couldn’t get enough air.

“Let’s do sprints,” Zoey said mockingly, glaring in Molly’s direction. “It’ll be fun.”

Molly held a finger, like she was ready to argue but didn’t have the breath to actually say anything. It took her a minute before she could gasp out, “I didn’t say fun, I said effective.”

The rest of us just rolled our eyes and groaned. As our team captain, Molly had been on our case this year about being in the best shape possible, which had extended into her forcing us to come to the gym—on a Sunday —to do sprints on the treadmill

“Lavender,” Zoey said, dragging the word out.

It took herculean effort for me to lift my head to look at her.

She was the furthest away from me, at the far end of the set of treadmills and almost up against the door of the gym.

She was lying flat on her back, her arms stretched out like she was trying to make a snow angel on the mats.

“What?” I asked because she didn’t say anything else. She raised one hand at the wrist, her arm still pressed against the mat, and waved it around. I just stared at her, trying to figure out what she could possibly mean but not following at all. “Zoey, use your words. I can’t understand you.”

She groaned like that was the biggest ask I could ever make of her.

“Your phone. Ringing,” she said, still flailing her hand about. I realized she was trying to gesture to our bags, which we’d piled up by the glass door—and also felt about a million kilometers away from me.

“Can you see who’s calling?” I asked. I’d left my phone sitting on top of my bag so it wouldn’t get lost in my stuff, so it should be visible to her.

She groaned again but looked. “Imogen.”

I frowned. Imogen wasn’t the type to call me out of the blue, and I’d just seen her a couple of hours ago at home. I forced myself to get to my feet and stumbled over to the pile of bags, feeling like my legs were shaking under me.

“Two minute warning,” Molly said. “Then we go again.”

Zoey and Paige groaned, but I barely heard her as I glanced at my lock screen and realized I’d missed three calls from Imogen already.

Something was definitely wrong. I was pretty sure I mumbled a be right back to my friends, but I couldn’t even be sure because my heart was pounding so hard that it was stealing all my focus.

In the time it took me to step into the hall, the ringing ended and I got a fourth missed call notification, but I wasted no time in calling her back.

It only took one ring for her to answer, one minute for her to explain what was going on, and another for me to tell my friends that I had to go and would see them at school tomorrow, before taking off in my car.

I’d never been to Trinity Hospital. It was far from our house, on the far side of Crofton Academy, and not as big as North Glen Hospital where Mum worked, so there was no reason I would ever have to go there—which only made it that much more confusing that Imogen was currently there, awaiting an X-ray.

The urgent care was bright with yellow linoleum floors and light blue walls that made it seem like it was trying not to feel like a hospital, even though that was exactly what it was.

The waiting room was filled with rows of empty chairs and a large desk that reminded me of the guidance office, where a woman in cherry-print scrubs asked, “Can I help you?”

I opened my mouth, ready to say that I was looking for someone, but before I could get a single syllable out, a body was flying toward me.

My sister leaned all her weight into me, sobbing into my shoulder as she wrapped an arm around me in an awkward hug.

I hugged her back tightly, only letting go once I noticed her wince.

I pulled away just as quickly and held her shoulders so I could get a better look at her.

She hadn’t said much on the phone, other than that she was at urgent care in Trinity Hospital and she really wanted me there.

She’d tried to say more but it was hard to understand her through all her tears, so I’d just reassured I’d be there soon.

Looking at her now, I wished I’d pressed for more details.

Her face was pale, and there was a bruise darkening around one eye, swollen and already turning purple. Scrapes covered her knees and elbows, and she was cradling one arm—that must have been the X-ray she was talking about on the phone. My stomach dropped. “Imogen...”

“I’m okay.” She forced a smile on her face, but it was wobbly. She used her good hand to swipe away the stray tears running down her face. I gently pushed her toward the closest chair and sat down next to her.

“Have you already checked in?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and neutral.

I was not normally the one who got called in an emergency.

As the eldest, Sebastian was always our go-to person if Mum wasn’t available, and I wasn’t sure why Imogen had called me instead but I wanted to show her that she hadn’t made the wrong choice.

Imogen nodded. “They told me to wait here to get an x-ray.”

I nodded, letting my pounding heart slow down a little more before I continued asking questions. With so little information to go on from the phone call, I’d been in a near-panic for the whole drive here.

“What happened?” I asked softly.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “It all happened so fast. I was on my bike and then this car came around the corner. I swear I was in the bike lane, but he just…” She choked on the words, dropping her chin. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I frowned as I tucked some hair behind her ear. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything.”

She didn’t respond, but she also didn’t look up.

I sighed and looked around, giving her a moment to compose herself.

There were only a couple of other people in the waiting room—I guess a Sunday afternoon in September wasn’t a big day for injuries.

There was a lady in the back corner, holding a towel to her hand that looked like it was bleeding.

A man a few seats down from her was leaning back in his seat, pressing his head against the wall and appeared to be napping.

And somebody across the way was using three chairs so she could prop up her foot.

Three people and my baby sister, who was biking somewhere over forty-five minutes away from home. What was she doing here?

I was debating whether I should try to ask when a nurse walked through the door that led deeper into the hospital and called, “Imogen Novak?”

Imogen’s head shot up, and she glanced at the nurse and then at me. I squeezed her good hand. “Go. I’ll wait here. I’m sure they won’t let me into an X-ray.”

She nodded and wiped away her tears one last time before walking across the room. The nurse greeted her kindly and she murmured something back, then glanced at me over her shoulder one more time before they led her off.

I sighed and rested my arms onto my legs, letting my head drop.

I knew I should probably call someone—Mum or Sebastian or even Ainsley, who was probably wondering where the heck Imogen was right now.

I wasn’t sure whether Imogen had tried to call them but had been unable to reach them or if she’d chosen not to call them for some reason and I didn’t want to overstep by reaching out if she had a reason not.

Maybe she didn’t want to worry them until she knew what was going on.

Or maybe , something in my mind whispered, there’s a reason she was all the way out here and she doesn’t want anyone to know.

I couldn’t imagine she was doing something so nefarious that she wanted to keep it a secret, but I also had no clue why she would be out here.

She didn’t know anybody who lived out here, it wasn’t a nice place for a bike ride, and even if she’d been on her way home, she wouldn’t have gotten back until pretty late for a school night, which would have raised a lot of questions. I just didn’t understand.

“Excuse me,” a man’s voice came from the direction of the reception desk. “I’m looking for my daughter—she left me a voicemail saying she fell off her bike and…”

I froze. There was no way. It couldn’t be him—how would Imogen have contacted him? His old phone number had been cut off and he hadn’t given any of us his new one. And I was sure that even if I had been able to call him, he wouldn’t have answered or shown up. And yet…

The receptionist was now telling him that his daughter was in an X-ray but he could see her as soon as she was out.

But surely, there were other people getting an X-ray right now.

Another teen girl who had also fallen off her bike and happened to be here at the same time as Imogen even though there were hardly any patients…

I didn’t want to lift my head. I didn’t want my fears to be confirmed. But how long could I keep my head down and pretend? When Imogen came out of the X-ray, we would both get up to go see her. Did I really want that to be the moment he noticed me?

Feeling like I was choking on air, I forced myself to lift my head—and came face to face with my father for the first time in six weeks.