In A Twist of Fate

Chapter 8: Unfortunate Events

As it turns out, Sierra has forgiven me. All day at school we talked and laughed as if nothing ever happened. I think we both just want to forget and gloss over it, it's not worth talking over any more than we did. Sierra forgiving me was just about the highlight of my day, everything else was exactly as every other day in school; gross soggy sandwiches for lunch, a quiz in fifth period, and a lab in chemistry, up until my last hour.

Denzel had come up to me, putting his arm around me, and giving me puppy dog eyes, obviously about to ask me for something, "Do you want to go grab food after school, I'm hungry and my car's in the shop, I know you drove here, your car's in the parking lot, I saw it." That is true, I drove here, though I protested doing so, as much as I do it, driving is just too much effort. He keeps making his case, being as dramatic as he could.I saw it. "Please, I'm dying here." He throws his hand on his forehead to increase dramatic effect.

I think about it for a second, and cave, "Fine, but we're going to Olive Garden." I state matter-of-factly.

He nods enthusiastically, "That's fine, wherever you want."

I expected him to complain about my choice of restaurant as he usually does. I absolutely love Olive Garden, the breadsticks, the pasta and soup, all of it. Yes I know, "It's not real Italian food" blah blah blah, I will still continue to love it, real Italian or not. How could you possibly hate a restaurant that gives you free chocolates? I don't see how anyone could, but every time I announce that we're making another trip to Olive Garden, all I hear is groans and complaints, but since I'm the one driving, I don't particularly care.

The drive there isn't terribly long, but it's long enough for me to set the driving setting on my phone. A while ago, my mom read an article on Buzzfeed about how teenagers are the most likely to get into car accidents while texting while driving than any other age demographic, it must have really freaked her out, because the next day she stole my phone and downloaded an app that shuts off my messaging services while I'm driving. It's kind of a pain, and I worry that someday there will be some freak emergency accident and I won't get the message until it's too late, but I get the sentiment, and why she put it there.

The radio's blasting My Chemical Romance and both Denzel and I are singing our hearts out. Denzel had his emo phase all the way back in seventh grade, but it's apparent from my all black clothing, eyeliner, and fishnets paired with my combat boots, that I'm still very much in my

goth phase, so it's no surprise that we both know all the words to "Teenagers".

It's at the very last song in my playlist that we pull into the parking lot, and I undo the settings on my phone, just to look at a flood of messages from both of my parents; texts, phone calls, voicemails, even a stray email. I panic, quickly putting in my password and sliding to open my text messages. Denzel was walking towards the doors of the restaurant, but noticed me frozen frantically reading and swiping on my phone, and turned around to ask me, "What's wrong?"

I don't answer him, instead reading the multiple texts from my mom, "Drake's been hurt, meet us at the hospital," and then a minute later, "Hello? Why aren't you reading this I could swear you almost always have your phone in your hand." Then I see a call from my mom. I don't need to read anymore before I get back in the car and bark a, "Come on, we have to go." to Denzel.

The rest of the drive is full of questions from Denzel, and me giving back on word answers, as I'm doing my best to focus on the road and get us to the hospital as soon as possible. I have a massive headache, and it seems like there isn't enough air to breathe comfortably, and my lungs are seized up like I've locked them in a vice. The pavement isn't disappearing behind me quick enough, and I push down on the accelerator, not caring whether I'm speeding or not.