Page 5 of Hail Marry
Zach
Did the judge mention the timing on the expungement? I’d like to get your visa application processed, but I don’t wanna jump the gun.
I stare at the text. In the chaos of the last fifteen minutes, I’d almost forgotten about the nightmare that is now my life. If I text Zach back and tell him there won’tbeany expungement or any visa application, he’ll want to talk right away, and I need to get this girl situated before I do that.
Anything to delay the conversation.
2
TORI
I tugthe back of my hospital gown down as the nurse wheels me to my room in the Emergency Department. It’s a fight for my dignity. I already had to be damsel-in-distressed by the guy who brought me here. I don’t need him to get an unsolicited view of my backside when I move from the wheelchair to the bed. Assuming he’s still waiting in the room.
“The doctor should be in soon to talk about the results of the MRI.” The nurse pushes a button, and the door starts to open.
“Thanks,” I say, resigning myself to a wait of at least two hours.Soonis not a word that should be used by any hospital ever. I didn’t even want the MRI in the first place. Or the gown. I’ve got a high-deductible insurance plan, and I can only imagine what my bill will look like. Plus, my head is fine.
The door opens enough to reveal the room, but the guy who brought me isn’t there.
“Did your friend leave?” the nurse asks.
“Apparently,” I say, a little miffed. Guess he doesn’t actually care whether I live or die.
She helps me out of the chair and onto my bed. “Did you say he’s the one who saved your life?” It’s as if she read my thoughts and saw the need to put me in my place.
“He also rolled on me in the process, and you saw how huge he is.” I rub my arm. “Just figured he might stick around to see whether there was permanent damage.”
The nurse shoots me an amused glance, then takes my arm and inspects it. “It’s road rash. I’ll bring some cream for you. Can I get you anything else?”
“No, but thanks.”
She smiles at me and leaves me alone in the room.
Alone is fine. I don’tactuallywant the guy here. He’s slightly intimidating and really bossy. Maybe also attractive, but he’s not my type.
Now that I have a moment to myself, the enormity of this whole situation starts to sink in.
I almost died today.
Died.
I’ve always assumed I’d leave this world with plenty of notice—like ninety years of it. But a split-second and a stranger are all that stood between me and the end today, and that’s the most unsettling thing I’ve ever experienced. What if he’d been on his phone like I was? Or what if the semi had been going just a bit faster? I can’t manage to grasp how you can be young and vibrant one moment and dead the next. And what have I even done with my life in the last year? Nothing at all.
I’ve been stuck in a rut since the breakup. A long, boring rut. My rut was supposed to keep me safe, but clearly, that didn’t work. What if I died after spending an entire year of my life doing nothing but working my boring job?
It makes me sick to my stomach.
Or maybe I’m just hungry. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, which is a dangerous place for Tori Sheppard to hang out for very long. Dangerous and unnecessary.
I swing the cotton blanket off my legs and slip down from the bed, pulling the hem of my gown down again. I check the back to make sure I’m not about to flash anybody, then head for the door. There’s got to be food somewhere nearby.
I walk the sterile white hall until I come to a desk with several employees in scrubs, clicking away on computers and answering phones.
“Excuse me,” I say to the general area. “Can you tell me where the nearest vending machine is?”
“Down the hall and to the right,” one says without looking up.
I follow her instructions and make the right turn, then stop short.
