The Arrangement Anthology 1(96)

“So, about the other day?” I prompt.

“Yeah, the thing is—damn, I don’t even know where to start. Sometimes things don’t work out the way you think, you know? You go into a situation thinking one thing, but then everything changes, and nothing goes the way you planned.” Marty’s hands work my shoulder, rubbing out the sore muscles. I relax a little.

“You’re preaching to choir.”

“Yeah, well, there’s more.” He rubs his thumb into the muscle harder, and I make a content sound, a gentle moan. Marty jerks his hand away like I burned him. I glance at him, not understanding. “Avery, I—”

There’s a knock at the door, cutting him off. A man in scrubs and a white lab coat enters. “Avery Stanz, good to see you awake. How do you feel?”

“Like I was in a car wreck. Sore and achy.”

He nods and looks at my clipboard. “Any vision issues? Difficulty walking? Headaches?”

My head hurts, but I want to leave. I say no to all three, even though I haven’t been out of bed. He asks me more questions and explains that my tests came back clear and that I can go home. They held me here because I had an allergic reaction to a pain killer they gave me in the ER. He explains what drug it was and tells me that I need to remember it. Apparently, I was hallucinating and had trouble breathing right. They pumped me full of an antihistamine and kept me longer to be safe.

Just before the doctor walks away, he asks, “Any questions?”

I nod and look up at him. “Where is Sean Ferro? No one will tell me anything.”

He smiles sadly. “Your friend is...something. He, uh,” the doctor glances back at the door and then back at me. “He’s no longer with us. He—”

I gasp and my hands fly to my face. The doctor keeps talking, but I’ve shut him out. I hear his voice but not his words. It isn’t until I feel his hand on my shoulder that I can focus enough to hear what he’s saying. “Miss Stanz, please listen. Your friend signed himself out last night. I said that poorly. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Mr. Ferro is banged up, but he’ll recover. Do you understand?”

Eyes wide, I nod. “Sean’s alive?”

“Yes, he is.” The doctor releases my shoulder. His gaze cuts to Marty. “Make sure she remembers what I said.” And then to me, “The nurse will be by to discharge you in a little bit. I ah, heard something last night. Is it true that Mr. Ferro cut off your car to avoid that truck?” he asks, looking directly at me. I nod. My throat is too tight to speak.

He studies me for a moment and points his pen at me. “You’re very fortunate. You both are. The paramedics showed me pictures of his bike. Luck was on your side.” He shakes his head, like he can’t believe it, and leaves.

I laugh. I can’t help it. I’m the antithesis of lucky. “No, I’m not. Luck evades me.”

“Not this time, Avery.” Marty pats my arm. “You were damn lucky. So was Sean.” Marty blinks, like that’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard. “I can’t believe he walked out.”

Neither can I. He walked out and left me here. Sean didn’t wait for me. He didn’t make sure I was okay, he just left. Who does that? The floor of my stomach twists with worry.





CHAPTER 3





Marty and Mel work out who will take me home. The doctor said that someone needs to keep an eye on me. I agreed to let them, but now that I’m being buckled into Marty’s front seat I no longer want to cooperate. I want to see Sean. I need to look at him with my own eyes and see that he’s alive. I don’t understand how he could fall like that and walk away. I don’t understand. It seems unreal, like everything else in my life.

Marty is driving toward the college. He’s talking softly, asking me if I’m okay, if I want food or something. I stare out the window. There’s something cold inside my stomach and it’s creeping up my throat. I don’t know what happened, but I feel like I can’t tell him what I’m thinking, not after this.

Marty’s big brown eyes cut over to me. I feel them on the side of my face, poking me like a stick. “Tell me what crazy idea is brewing in that head of yours.”

I look at him with my jaw hanging open. Damn it. How does he do that? Why am I so transparent around him? I try to throw him off. “What? I wouldn’t—”

“Cut the crap, princess. I see that look on your face. What crazy-ass thing are you planning this time?”

I sink down into my seat and fold my arms across my chest. Marty slows the car as we hit gridlock. Awesome. “You make me sound like a Scooby-Doo villain. I’m not planning anything.”