Skin Deep

Chapter 2

Luke

          ‘Transit bus crashed; 13 dead’ flashes across the screen as the evening news begins. I'm ready for my date with Amanda two hours early. With nothing else to do, I had sat in the living room watching the TV screen blankly. I normally don’t pay attention to the news, but when I see this, I focus all my attention on the screen. Oh please, God, please, I bite my lip. Then the news anchor starts talking and I turn up the volume and go deathly silent.

           “This afternoon, city bus #59 was crossing an intersection when it collided with a semi-truck speeding against a red light. Thirteen passengers were killed in the crash, with 8 more in critical condition in hospital. The driver and two passengers escaped unharmed. More on the story as it develops,” The blonde lady on the screen then proceeds to talk about other news, like the most catastrophic event in my life isn’t important.

           I don’t move for a good ten minutes. My ten- year- old brother hits me and throws things at me but I don’t react. He knows something is wrong. My sweet little sister climbs up onto my lap. I don’t welcome her or push her off. I am like a statue, and my siblings hate how uncomfortable the room feels. Finally, my brother calls for my mom.

           Mom rushes right up to me on the couch and grips my arm. “Luke? Sweetie, what’s wrong?” When I don’t answer, she presses the issue, “We all know something’s up. Just tell us. Please? We can help,”

           Just then, my dad comes in. He has never been home from work at such a convenient time. We all look at him and he looks down at his clothes. “What? Is there something on my shirt?” He then sees my stoic expression. I try my best not to cry.

           “Her bus crashed, Dad. She might even be dead,” the words come out quietly. My mom gasps because she knows exactly who I’m talking about. Dad knows, too. He knows everything because he asks questions nonstop and I answer him eventually to get him to stop asking. Truthfully, I don’t mind his questioning, nor that he knows every detail of my existence. At least he cares.

           Dad drops all his stuff and walks quickly over to me. I stand up. He says nothing, but wraps me up in a bear hug. If hugs could be manly, this would be it. My sister, her five- year- old brain not knowing what else to do, hugs my legs. We actually have quite a touching family moment, except for the bleakness of the situation.

           Soon the whole family is aware of my love for this girl. Amanda. Even her name is beautiful. Now, she might be gone forever. I tell my family about this past day, reliving every detail as if it were happening all over again.

          “Wait, so she wasn’t even your girlfriend?” Ten year old brothers can be so stupid.

           “No,” I reply quietly. “But I was so close! We could have been official tomorrow! I had a date with her tonight!” I’m raising my voice now, angry. “Why does that even matter? A girl I know died tonight!”

           “No,” a small voice distracts me from my rage. My sister. “She’s not dead.” I stare at her incredulous. She doesn’t understand. The bus crashed. It killed people. I look at my sister with pity and sadness, until my mom chimes in, “She could be right, you know. The news report mentioned that some people were still alive. Your Amanda could very well be one of them.”

           I hate false hope. If I believe Amanda is still alive, I will be crushed when I find out otherwise. But I don’t care. Amanda is strong. She survived the wreck. I know it. I leap off the couch and scoop up my little sister, holding her tightly. Then I set her down and race out the door in search of more information about the crash; in search of Amanda.

           “Don’t be out too late, Luke!” I hear my mother calling after me. I wave my hand behind me in agreement. I jump in the car and back out quickly but carefully. Being eighteen and having a license is awesome. Amanda is seventeen. She has her license. But it didn’t save her from a bus accident. I slow my speed down and begin driving very carefully. I can’t be the cause of someone else feeling what I just felt.

           I’m not sure where I should be looking for info, so I go to the Channel 6 News station. The secretary tells me to please take a number. Seriously? What could this many people being doing here at eight o’ clock on a Tuesday night? I sigh and sit down next to a crazy looking dude with a big brown folder. He eyes me warily. I manage a smile and look in the other direction.

           Soon crazy dude’s number is called and he hops up and walks confidently to the desk. I hear the secretary saying something about how this isn’t a gossip magazine and that he needs to stop coming here with scandalous pictures of celebrities that he got off the internet. The man turns abruptly and storms out.

           My number is next. My heart rate increases as I hurry to the desk, just like it does every time I walk towards Amanda. I gulp, then speak as professionally as possible, “Yes, hi. I’m looking for more information on the bus #59 accident story that aired on the six o’clock news this evening. Do you know the names of the survivors?”

           The secretary gives me a pitiful glance. “Sorry, kid, not my department. The full story should be out in a few days, and the names of the people will be given if their families consent. If you’re looking for a family member, you should have been notified by authorities by now.”

           I force a smile. “You don’t understand,” I start. She does not look impressed so I blurt out quickly, “She wasn’t a member of my family. They wouldn’t have notified me.” The secretary takes on a genuinely caring demeanor. “Ah, kid… Was she your girlfriend?” she asks.

           “Well not exactly,” I reply. “But I asked her out today, and my heart beats faster every time I think of her, and I just couldn’t imagine if… if anything were to happen to her… I just don’t know what I’d do.” I’m stunned at my own openness with a woman I have never met.

           The woman smiles and says, “Wow, kid, you sure got a big heart. You really like this girl, huh?” I nod slowly. She adds, “I’ll do my best to find out what I can. You come back her tomorrow, okay?” She pats me on the hand. “Or you can just phone the station after the news has aired and ask for Diane. Now, what was your name?”

           I smile and thank her, “That’s very kind of you, Diane. Thank you. And I’m Luke.”

           She nods and then calls out the next number. As a frantic woman with a big brown folder approaches the desk, I see Diane sigh and give me a look. I shrug my shoulders and shake my head, walking out of the station. As I start the car and head home, I can’t help but laugh at myself. I think I just made friends with the Channel Six News secretary. But better yet, I’ll know about Amanda in the morning. I’m filled with hope. I just hope it isn’t unfounded.

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