Page 18 of Life and Death
“Beau, I’m so sorry!”
“I’m fine, Taylor—you look awful, are you all right?” As we spoke, nurses began unwinding her bloody bandages, exposing dozens of shallow slices all over her forehead and left cheek.
She ignored me. “I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong. . . .” She winced as one nurse started dabbing at her face.
“Don’t worry about it; you missed me.”
“How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone. . . .”
“Umm . . . Edythe shoved me out of the way.”
She looked confused. “Who?”
“Edythe Cullen—she was standing next to me.” As usual, I didn’t sound believable at all.
“Edythe? I didn’t see her . . . wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is she okay?”
“I think so. She’s here somewhere, but they didn’t make her use a stretcher.”
I knew I wasn’t crazy. What had happened? There was no way to explain away what I’d seen.
They wheeled me away then, to X-ray my head. I told them there was nothing wrong, and I was right. Not even a concussion. I asked if I could leave, but the nurse said I had to talk to a doctor first. So I was trapped inthe ER, harassed by Taylor’s constant apologies and promises to make it up to me. No matter how many times I tried to convince her I was fine, she continued to beg for forgiveness. Finally, I closed my eyes and tried to ignore her.
“Is he sleeping?” a musical voice asked. My eyes flew open.
Edythe was standing at the foot of my bed, her expression more a smirk than a smile. I stared at her, trying to put the pieces together in my head. She didn’tlooklike someone who could stop attacking vehicles with her bare hands. But then, she also didn’t look like anyone I’d ever seen before.
“Hey, um, Edythe, I’m really sorry—” Taylor began.
Edythe lifted a hand to stop her.
“No blood, no foul,” she said, flashing her bright white teeth. She moved to sit on the edge of Taylor’s bed, facing me. She smirked again.
“So, what’s the verdict?” she asked me.
“There’s nothing wrong with me, but they won’t let me go,” I said. “How come you aren’t strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?”
“It’s all about who you know,” she answered. “But don’t worry, I came to spring you.”
Then a doctor walked around the corner, and my mouth fell open. She was young, she was blond . . . and she was more beautiful than any movie star I’d ever seen. Like someone sliced up Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, and Marilyn Monroe, took the best parts, and glued them together to form one goddess. She was pale, though, and tired-looking, with circles under her dark eyes. From Charlie’s description, this had to be Edythe’s mom.
“So, Mr. Swan,” Dr. Cullen asked in a gentle voice, “how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” I said, for the last time, I hoped.
She walked to the lightboard on the wall over my head, and turned it on.
“Your X-rays look good,” she said. “Does your head hurt? Edythe said you hit it pretty hard.”
“It’s fine,” I repeated with a sigh, throwing a quick, questioning look Edythe’s way. She avoided my eyes.
The doctor’s cool fingers probed lightly along my skull. She noticed when I winced.
“Tender?” she asked.
“Not really.” I’d had worse.
I heard a low laugh, and looked over to see Edythe smiling.
