There was a screeching sound of tires and the smell of burnt rubber in my nose. I saw glass shattering in my lap and felt the strong pull of the seatbelt across my bones just as the swift punch of the airbag came slamming into my face, burning my skin upon contact. It felt like we were spinning, but I wasn’t sure if we were even moving any more. There was a constant sound of a car horn and I heard screaming.

Disoriented, it took me a few seconds to recognize Reed’s voice. “Nolan, Nolan! Are you ok, Nolan!” he wasn’t himself, he sounded terrified, hurt. I pushed through the airbag material, pulling at the yellow bag in front of him until I could see his face. I gasped when I saw his steering wheel pushed up into him, pinning him to the seat, his arm bent awkwardly through the wheel and into the dashboard. Then I saw bone. Bone!

“Oh my god, Reed! Your arm! Don’t move, don’t move. You’re hurt!” I fought to get to my buckle, pain shooting through my ribs a little as I moved. I could see Reed’s face, it was ghost white and he looked like a frightened little boy. I reached for his face, holding it still in my hands and forcing his eyes to mine.

“Reed, you’re hurt, do you understand me?” my heart beat deafening in my ears, shaking my entire chest and I was sure my hands were shaking from it. “Reed, just focus on me. Do not move; do not look at your arm.”

It was broken. Badly. I wish I could take back what I had seen, but I made a mental note to myself not to look again. I was sure I would get sick if I did. I kept a hand on his face, my eyes locked with his, as I reached for my purse that was thankfully still tucked in my lap from the force of the airbag. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911.

“There’s been an accident. I don’t know where we are,” I was operating on adrenaline now, my mind flashing back to Buck’s heart attack. “Yes, I will stay on the line.”

I kept my eyes on Reed. “They are pinging my phone, help is coming. Just stay right here with me, don’t move.”

I could suddenly register the sounds of the other vehicle. I heard a woman’s voice and I yelled through the shattered front window, hoping she heard me. “Help is coming, stay where you are. Do not move in case you have injuries,” my eyes still on Reed. His face was expressionless.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat there, silent amid the chaos, before the flashes of lights and sounds of sirens were upon us. The firefighters pulled me from the Jeep and I fought to try to keep my eyes and hands on Reed. “Careful, he’s hurt! Please, help him!” I screamed.

They laid me on a board and ran through a series of questions I couldn’t even hear. Could I see something? Could I hear this, could I feel this, was there pressure here? I was fine, I wanted to tell them. I wanted to get to my feet, go help Reed. But they kept me in place and were soon lifting me on the board and into the back of an ambulance. I remember the doors shutting, the pinch of a needle in my vein, the sound of scissors up my mom’s dress. A woman EMT was dialing my phone, and I could tell she was talking to my parents.

We were at a hospital soon, though I wasn’t sure which one. There was a rush of florescent lights and dotted ceiling tiles and then silver doors that flung open and a new set of nurses and doctors in scrubs. They hovered over me, pushing, prodding, sticking for several minutes before wheeling me to a corner in the long hallway, pulling a curtain around me and then abandoning me.

I tried to stretch my muscles and sit up in the bed. I wanted to find my phone, wanted to know how long it had been. I needed to know if my parents were here, and I HAD to see Reed. I started crying finally, the release of it all coming out in full force.

A nurse swished the curtain open just then, holding a small tray with medicine and water. “Nolan?” she was using her calm voice, the one they train them to use. I remember this from Buck. I know this voice. “Hon, you were in an accident.” No shit!

“Reed, is he here? Is he ok?” I was starting to fight her, trying to sit up. She put her hand on my shoulder, holding me down. I winced from a pain, a bruise I thought.

“He’s here. He’s fine. He’s with the doctors now. It’s ok,” her words were better than medicine, the fight completely abandoning my body, leaving me exhausted.

“My mom and dad?” I was starting to cry again.

“They’ll be here any minute,” she reassured, pushing the water with the straw in it to me and giving me two pills to take. I swallowed and she was gone.

I stared without blinking at the curtain, wanting to just leave my little corner, but afraid to all the same. I was at Mercy. Buck’s hospital, I thought. I focused on the sound of my heavy breathing and the regular beep on my machine, my only companion here behind the dark curtain. When I finally heard a familiar voice, I started crying again. “Mommy? Daddy?” I heard their feet speed up and the curtain was once again open.