MIRRORBALL ; QUINN HUGHES

Twenty four

if i lay here
if i just lay here
would you lie with me and just forget the world?

chasing cars ; snow patrol

EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING

THIRD PERSON

TATE COULD not stand to be anywhere near the Hughes household at that moment. Her emotions were a river, anger, hurt, grief, betrayal, anything that made her feel like death was flowing.

She cried, hard. Her sobs being drowned out by the loud radio, her sad playlist being the first thing she clicked on.

No navigation, no destination. Tate Bridgers just drove, she didn't want to be seen. She hated herself, the gut feeling that she destroyed everything she had, pressing hard.

Tate was a gentle person, she hated killing bugs in the house, hated seeing people struggling, she hated hurting people, things, insects, anything.

And now, she had hurt one of the most important people in her life. Her Luke. Luke was her rock, her best friend, the one person she'd hurt anyone for.

She fully convinced herself that he hated her. When she thought about Quinn, she felt physically ill. Quinn and her were an inch away from the perfect ending, after all these years of waiting and longing, she had him.

And in a snap of his fingers, she was back to being an outsider. She knew she could never face him, or Luke. Or anyone in that family again, she destroyed them.

"Our family is really close." Ellen smiled gently at the younger girl as they sat on the creme couch, the photo book displayed on the coffee table. "My boys."

"I can see that." Tate said, a genuine expression on her features. "You did a great job with them."

Ellen pushed her bottom lip out slightly, tearing her eyes away from the girl and back to the book. Her wrinkled pointer finger lingered by Quinn, her blue eyes glancing towards Tate.

"Quinn?" Tate tilted her head to the side, confused. She tried to act like her heart wasn't beating a thousand times more faster than usual, even a picture of him sent her into a fit of nerves.

"I think he likes you." Ellen muttered, careful not to let the boys in the next room hear. "I've never seen him like that before."

"Like what?" She swallowed, watching the older woman with curiosity.

Quinn couldn't like her. Not for the obvious reason of Luke never allowing it, she was too weird for Quinn. She was younger and not as pretty as the girls Quinn hung out with.

"He's nervous around you." Ellen beamed, smiling lustily. "I know my boy, Tate. He likes you."

Tate looked down at her lap, her cheeks hurting from the smiling she'd been doing. She snapped her head up at the sound of footsteps passing through the living room.

Quinn paused, looking between the pair. "Oh, God. Mom's got the old photo book out! Hey, T, do you need to be saved?"

Tate chuckled lightly. She loved talking to Ellen, despite her being much older. But, Quinn was tempting.

"Come on." Quinn held his hand out, urging Tate to take it. She reached her small hand in his, his hand sweaty. She didn't mind.

Quinn couldn't breathe, feeling her hand move around to hold his tighter. He knew he shouldn't feel this way but he couldn't resist her. He didn't know how anyone could.

Tate felt numb, every part of her ached in some shape or form. She wanted to wake up and be in that house, in his bed after sneaking into his room again. She wanted to be able to poke fun at Luke until he got red. She feared she'd never be able to do that again, she feared she'd never be in the same room as them again.

Tate blinked, her doe eyes narrowing as tears blurred her vision. She blinked once more, opening her eyes as pure panic sheered through her.

The two bright lights of a semi-truck blinded her, coming head on as the driver honked, deafening the girl. He slammed his hand on the wheel harshly, watching the Honda Civic gear towards his lane.

In a moment of terror, she jerked her wheel all the way to the right, missing the truck by an inch. She couldn't brake hard enough to stop the collision.

Her gray car that she was gifted for her sixteenth birthday and loved with every ounce in her was rammed into a tree.

Tate, in the midst of her emotions, didn't buckle her seatbelt. The blinking of urgency from the cars seatbelt sign slipped past her.

Her body was tossed out of the car, through the glass windshield as she hit the concrete. Tate wasn't dead, she was clinging onto life on the street.

The street was wet, her body seemingly frozen. Her breaths were short and shallow as blood dripped from her head.

She opened her eyes, seeing the blurry visions of the dark sky. She couldn't move, she could barely breathe, but her mind wouldn't stop going.

They say when you die, you replay the best memories of your life for minutes. Tate didn't believe in superstitions- Tate got chills talks about death and reincarnation.

But all she could hear was him. The pavement was cold against her cheek, the rough rocks scratching at her skin. But she couldn't move.

"Sh." Quinn was there, stroking her hair. "Just breathe. Help is on the way."

He was holding her, cradling her in a way that she forgot the pain in her body. She felt free.

It wasn't Quinn, it was the truck driver. He was bent down, an operater on the line as he watched the girl lay lifeless. "She's barely breathing."

"I'm here." Quinn's voice echoed through her ears. And for a split second, she felt like she was being lifted from the ground and if she squeezed her eyes shut, she could see the outline of his bedroom.

I love you, Quinn. It echoed in her head, she hoped in the distant place where he was, he heard it. I'm sorry, Luke. She couldn't bear to think about breaking his heart.

"She's not breathing." The truck driver shook, his hands hovering over her body as her pulse point dropped. "I don't...I don't know if she's alive."

Tate Bridgers died on August twelfth, on the highway after being tossed from her vehicle on impact.

oh this broke me in half.
Tate, I'm so sorry,
fair warning: these next few chapters are absolutely going to be heartbreaking.