Chapter 7: What we do for friends

LEO

Behind me, Quinn screamed. "Nate!" I heard the pounding of her feet, and I turned to catch her before she could trip and fall on top of him. My heart was thudding in dread, but I held it together enough to grip Quinn's upper arms, giving her a little shake.

"Go get help. Do you have your phone? Call 9-1-1, and get-fuck, I don't know-get the school nurse or the principal or someone."

Some of the horror cleared from Quinn's eyes, and she nodded, reaching in her back pocket for her phone even as she took off in the direction of the office. Once I was sure she was on her way, I jogged down the stairs to kneel next to Nate, careful not to jostle him as I tried to remember the little bit of first aid training we'd gotten in health class.

Don't move him, in case his neck is broken. Bile rose in my throat. Nate was lying at an odd angle, but I didn't think he'd fallen far enough to have snapped his neck.

"Taylor, shit, we didn't mean-" Brent was babbling behind me, fear evident in his voice. Son of a bitch was afraid he'd gone too far, and dammit, he should've been scared.

"Shut the fuck up. Just shut the fuck up." I growled the words. The last thing I needed was to deal with his sniveling right now. I concentrated on Nate again.

Check for breath sounds. His chest was rising and falling-it was almost imperceptible, but there was no doubt that he was breathing. Good. That was good.

Check for bleeding and apply direct pressure. I leaned over him, half-expecting to see a pool of red spilling around his head from where it had hit the railing, but I couldn't find anything. Was that good? I vaguely remembered my mother saying that head wounds always bled a lot, maybe some time when I'd come inside the house, covered with blood. So no bleeding had to be a good thing, I was pretty sure.

"Leo, man, what're you going to say happened?" This time it was Karl talking, anxiety threading his voice. "If we get in trouble for this, we won't play tomorrow. Hell, we'll probably get kicked off the team. Suspended from school."

"Holy fuck, I'm eighteen." Brent sounded like he was on the verge of crying. "I could be prosecuted-"

"Would you shut the fuck up?" I spoke through my teeth, my jaw clenched. "Do you think I fucking care about your problems right now? Nate's unconscious, and he might-shit, do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves? He's sick. Do you fucking understand that? Something like this is a huge deal." I reached for Nate's hand, lying limp alongside his body. The skin was cool, but not cold. That was good, too, wasn't it?

I glanced away from Nate only when I heard the sound of running feet. The school nurse, Mrs. Channing, along with the principal, were following close behind Quinn. I fastened my eyes on her face, needing to make sure she was okay. She was pale, and her eyes looked huge and full of terror, but she wasn't about to pass out or get hysterical. She was holding it together, and I was grateful.

Mrs. Channing knelt on the other side of Nate's body-his body? No, on the other side of Nate. She picked up the hand I wasn't holding, and I realized she was checking his pulse. Her sober gaze met mine.

"What happened?"

It was a loaded question, and of course I knew what she meant, but I chose to focus on the most important information. "He went down the steps, and his head-" Nausea threatened again as I heard the sound in my memory. "He hit his head on the railing. He was unconscious when I got to him. I couldn't get here fast enough to stop him from falling. I went as fast as I could."

"Leo, stop. We'll deal with that later." She touched the side of Nate's head, careful not to move it. "I can't see any bleeding."

"Is that good or bad?" I blurted out the question. "I can't remember. Is it bad when the head doesn't bleed? I didn't move him, and I made sure he was breathing, but I couldn't remember about the head."

"You did just right." Whatever the nurse was going to say next was lost in the noise of a door bursting open as EMTs rushed toward us. I was pushed out of the way as they swarmed Nate. I stood, my body stiff, and moved up the stairs to wait next to Quinn.

Almost as if it was drawn to me like a magnet to steel, the side of her body pressed into mine, and she ducked her head to burrow it in against my chest. My arms went around her, pulling her tight into me, and then I couldn't help lowering my lips to touch the top of her hair. She was trembling, and in that moment, I would've done anything to comfort her. Anything to make it all better for her.

"What happened here, Mr. Taylor?" Mr. Platten, the principal, spoke low.

"I . . ." A lump formed in my throat, and I found it hard to speak. "I'm not really sure, sir. I just came around the corner in time to see Nate falling. I tried to get here to grab him, but I was too far away." I inclined my head toward Quinn. "We were just around the corner, and I heard-something. I ran, but I couldn't get to him in time."

"He tripped." Brent was talking to Mr. Platten, but his eyes were on me. "I guess he was on his way to the gym when I-when we passed him, and the next thing I knew, he was on the ground. It all happened so fast."

Fury burned in my chest, and I wanted to yell, Liar. But I kept my mouth shut. Right now, I was only worried about Nate. Later I'd deal with Brent, Karl and Tim.

The EMTs had Nate on a wheeled stretcher, and they moved him fast toward the doors. One lingered to speak to the principal.

"Were his parents notified?" She glanced at Quinn and me. "Are you friends of his?"

"My secretary called his parents right away, but we didn't get through. We'll keep trying." Mr. Platten's lips pressed together. I was sure this was looking like a nightmare to him just about now: a student badly injured on school property, and the only witnesses were four prominent members of the first winning football team the school had known in decades.

"I want to go to the hospital with Nate." Quinn pushed away from me, turning as though to follow the gurney. "He shouldn't be alone."

"You can't ride in the ambulance with him, but you're welcome to meet us there." The EMT's eyes flickered to Mr. Platten. "If that's okay with the school."

"I'll drive her over." I grasped Quinn's hand, holding it tight. "We-we're like family. We're Nate's best friends, so we should be there until his parents can get to the hospital."

"I agree. Go ahead." Mr. Platten shot me a long and steady look. "Keep me informed, please, Mr. Taylor."

"Will do." I tugged on Quinn's hand. "Let's go."

***

The ride to the hospital was only about ten minutes, but it felt endless. Quinn had climbed into the front seat of my car without a word, and she didn't speak until we were parked and walking inside.

"Do we go to the emergency room, or . . .?" She flashed wide, confused eyes at me. "I don't know what to do."

"Let's go in here." I led her to the main entrance, through the automatic doors and up to the information desk, where a volunteer sat in front of a computer screen. "Nate Wellman. He was just brought in by ambulance."

The older woman raised one eyebrow. "Family?"

"Yep." I didn't even hesitate.

"Wellman?" She tapped a few keys and scanned the monitor. "He's in the ER, but it looks like he's about to be taken up for a CT scan." She pointed down the hall behind her. "Through those doors, take a left, follow the signs. Ask at the desk there, and they'll tell you where to wait."

We were moving before she'd finished speaking. Quinn stumbled, trying to keep up with me; her legs were long, but I still walked a lot faster. I tightened my grip on her hand.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "I just want to get there. See him."

"I know." We rounded another corner and stopped in front of another desk. The nurse nodded when I gave her Nate's name.

"The EMTs told me you were coming. He's awake, and you can go back there-but he's about to go up to imaging, so make it fast." She directed us to the right room.

"He's awake. That's good, right?" Quinn looked up at me anxiously.

"I think it's got to be. And they're letting us see him." I halted by the door with a number eight above it. "This is it."

Nate had always looked small to me. Even though he was the oldest of the three of us, as long as I could remember I'd been a good head taller than he was, not to mention just overall sturdier. But when I saw him lying in that hospital bed, he looked ...weak. Vulnerable. And suddenly I was wracked with guilt for the way I'd let him down over the past few months. Hell, who was I fooling? It had been years since I'd been a friend to either Nate or Quinn. I'd put on a good front, doing the small talk and the waves in the hallway, or stopping when I saw them out and about, but I couldn't remember the last time we'd hung out or had a real conversation.

Beside me, Quinn made a small noise and rushed to the bed. She found Nate's hand and had it pressed between her own before I even took two steps to join her.

"Nate, oh, my God." She gave a half-sob, and tears I guessed she'd been just barely holding back streamed down her face. "How-are you okay? Well, that's stupid, you're laying in a hospital bed, you're clearly not okay."

"I'm going to be fine, Quinn." His voice sounded a little strained and a little slurry. "My head is just killing me right now, but they gave me something for the pain. And I guess I'm going up to get some kind of scan in a few minutes."

"Yeah, that's what the nurse said." Quinn caught my eye and jerked her head a little, clearly gesturing for me to come stand next to her. I moved into Nate's view, not sure how happy he was going to be to see me there after our last exchange.

"Leo drove me over ...and he made sure you got help." She was nearly babbling, and I knew she was talking me up to Nate. Trying to patch things between us, just like she'd always done.

"Thanks, Leo." Nate focused on me. "Seriously. Thanks." He paused, his forehead knitting together. "Was that you who yelled right before ...I went down?"

"Yeah." I crossed my arms over my chest and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Nate. Really sorry." I hoped he understood that I meant that apology for more than just failing to rescue him in time.

"There wasn't anything you could've done." He blinked so slowly that I wasn't sure he was going to open his eyes again right away. When he did, I could tell he was having trouble staying awake. "Listen, Leo. What happened with ...Brent and them?"

I shook my head. "Nothing yet. It wasn't clear exactly what went down, and I was more worried about getting you help. And Brent-he said you tripped." I set my jaw. "But I'll make sure it's straightened out. They were giving you shit, weren't they? Messing with you?"

Nate rocked his head a little, wincing as he did. "No. I mean ...yeah. They were. But I don't want to get them in trouble. It's kind of my . . .fault, I guess. A little. And I don't want everyone to hate me."

"That's bullshit, Nate." Quinn the avenger was in full protector mode, disbelief painting her face. "They need to be punished. They should get kicked off the football team, and-my God, you could've gotten really hurt. Worse than this."

"No, Quinn." He was adamant. "Don't say anything. I don't want you to do anything, or I'm going to be really pissed, got it?" He shifted his gaze to me. "Go along with whatever Brent says happened, and I will, too. I tripped and fell. That's it." His eyes drifted shut. "Quinn, you got that? Tripped. No one's ...fault."

And then he was asleep. His mouth opened a little as his breath evened out. Quinn's back bowed, and her inhale was ragged.

"Mia, he's going to be okay." I put a tentative hand on her shoulder, but we were interrupted when the door opened, admitting an orderly.

"We're taking him up to CT right now. You can wait in the family area down the hall." The orderly stood back, waiting for us to pass. I slid my hand down Quinn's back, guiding her into the corridor.

An older man stood just outside, typing into a computer tablet. He glanced up as we emerged.

"You're here for Nate Wellman?" He cocked his head, scrutinizing us. "Family?"

"Yes. We're just waiting for his parents." I lifted my chin, daring the doctor to argue with my claim to be related. "Is he going to be all right?"

The doctor sighed, running his finger down the side of the tablet as he skimmed his notes. "Seems that he is. Now, we won't be sure until we do the scan, but he regained consciousness, and he was completely cognizant. Knows his name, where he is ...he's fully oriented. Probably a mild concussion, but a little rest and he should be good as new." He drew his brows together something else in the file caught his attention. "He has some ongoing health issues, though, doesn't he? We'll have to run through some extra tests, just to make sure nothing else is going on." Tapping the top of the computer, he turned and walked away from us without saying anything else.

"Let's go find the waiting area." I reached for Quinn's hand, but she jerked away from me, and when she turned to face me, her eyes were stormy.

"How could you agree to that? You didn't mean it, did you? You're not going to let Brent and those other guys get away with what they did to Nate."

I blew out a sigh, slumping against the wall. "Mia, you heard what he said. Nate doesn't want anyone to know what really happened. It's his decision."

"He has a head injury, Leo. I don't think he's in any state of mind to know what's best."

I rolled my eyes. "Did you ever stop to think, Quinn, that maybe it's better for Nate this way? What do you think is going to happen if he points the finger at Brent and the guys? They'll get kicked off the football team, and that's going to piss off the whole school. It's not going to make things any easier for Nate. He'll get picked on even more." I paused. "If that's even possible."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Quinn stood with her hands on her hips, her face stormy as she stared me down.

My blood was beginning to boil just a little. I was getting over the fear that had gripped me since I'd seen Nate at the bottom of those steps, motionless, and now that it looked like he was going to be all right, I had to think about how this was going to play out. Nate's insistence that we protect Brent, Tim and Karl made my job easier. The only obstacle to helping this whole thing go away was standing in front of me, eyes blazing and full lips pushed together.

And I wanted her.

I'd been trying to ignore it and deny it for so long. But looking at Quinn, I couldn't remember anymore why we weren't together. I couldn't remember why I'd been fighting the idea of us. I couldn't pinpoint any of my many reasons-or why I was convinced that I wasn't good for her. That I'd ruin her, dragging her into situations she'd hate.

All I knew was the pounding of my heart, the way my dick was going hard and how much I needed to taste her. I almost reached for her-she was just about an arm's length away, and I knew I could have her body pressed against mine in a matter of seconds. But before I could act on that, she starting talking again.

"You think it's our fault that people-and by people, I'm assuming you mean your new pals, your little football buddies and the groupies-that none of them like Nate and me. All those people who you call friends now-the ones you party with, get drunk with, all the other stupid things you do." She arched one eyebrow, leaving no doubt about where she stood on all those topics. "You think we like being made fun of, being teased-you think we bring it on ourselves. You as much as said that yesterday, didn't you? When you had to pull Trish away right before she started getting rough with me." Something changed in her expression; pain or something like it passed over quickly. "Sorry about that, Leo. Sorry that you had to choose between the person who's known you forever and one of your slut buddies."

Ouch. That one stung. I'd never slept with Trish-hell, I'd never even looked twice at her-but I'd banged my share of cheerleaders. I wasn't proud of it, necessarily, but when a girl threw herself at me, and I was maybe more than a little drunk, it wasn't easy to say no. Not when there wasn't any good reason to deny myself the pleasure they offered.

But that wasn't anything I wanted to discuss with Quinn. Not when it was her my body was burning for right now, not when it was her lips I wanted to crush to mine. The sting and the lust were probably why I went the direction I did, lashing out at her without thinking about it first.

"Maybe if you made a little more effort to be nice to people instead of putting them down, and maybe if you gave a shit about how you look, what you wear, you wouldn't have to be jealous of my slut buddies. Maybe then I wouldn't have to make a choice."

Quinn reacted as though I'd slapped her face, jerking back as her mouth fell open. Disbelief and betrayal filled her eyes, and my heart sank. Shit. What had I done?

Before I could get another word out or stop her, Quinn turned and sprinted down the hall and out of the hospital.