Chasing Cars

Chapter Twelve

I didn't go home.

I would've, if my psychotic principal hadn't paralyzed me. Instead I sat outside the school, motionless and shaky, as rain drops began to fall. The first one hit my face, as I was staring up at the rolling grey clouds and questioning my own existence.

Even though I wasn't in the mood to get soaked, I didn't budge. Instead, I pulled the brakes on my wheelchair into the "lock" position, so there's no way I'd roll unless I unlocked them. A bang of thunder, and the mild rain shifted into a full on downpour. 

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I rarely ever dialed. "Hello?" a voice answered after only two rings.

"Cam? Can you come pick me up?" I asked. "Of course! What's wrong? Are you okay? Why aren't you in school?" Cam bombarded me with questions. "Never mind, I'm on my way. Where are you?" he asked. 

"In the front of my school. I just need to get out," I answered breathlessly. "Okay, be there in ten," Cam hung up the phone and I leaned back in my chair, letting the rain fall on my face. So much to think about. There was Andrew and his insane plan to take out our principal, a surgery that so far had a one hundred percent death rate, and my drug dealership that was now officially mine.

Thankfully I didn't have to think for two long, because Cam must've beaten the gas pedal and sped here to get me. I was only thinking for about five minutes. 

Cam jumped out of his car and ran over to me. "Karev, what's wrong?" he asked. His hair was already getting soaked and I felt terrible now for asking him to come out in it. "I just need to leave," I said without meeting his eye. He nodded understandably and helped me get into his ancient Honda.

As we drove, Cam and I didn't talk much. "Where are we going?" I asked when I realized he missed the turn to my house. "Out," he replied. "I need to know what's wrong."

I knew there was no way I'd get out of this, so I figured I might as well make it easy on myself and just spill instead of continuing to avoid it. So I sat in silence as my friend drove us around the dark streets, his face creased in concentration as he tried to see through the pelting rain.

My mind was racing. Was this really happening to me? Most people might think I'm crazy, even considering a surgery with a one hundred percent death rate. But they couldn't blame me, could they? 

I could feel Cam's gaze turning to look at me every once in a while, his face full of concern. Usually I hated concerned or worried looks, I don't need anyone to look after me or worry for me. When you live with parents who are high most of the time, you grow up fast. Concerned looks make you feel weak.

But now, at this very moment, I didn't mind. Cam was a good friend. He never showed his worry unless he was about ready to explode with it. It was obvious he had reached this point. "I'm okay, Cam. I'll tell you everything when we get where we're going."

Translation: Stop worrying about me. I'm fine and I do not need your sympathy, nor do I want it. 

With a sigh, Cam only nodded. I relaxed slightly when he fixated his gaze on the road and the road alone. "Thank you," I whispered, hoping he couldn't hear me. 

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Cam parked the Honda in the very back of a Target parking lot. Using a lever, he reclined his seat and leaned back into it. "Spill." he said simply, not even asking if I was ready. I told him about the phone call from the doctor and leaving Andrew behind with no mention of where I was going.

"So you left him to wonder where you went?" Cam asked. Even he, the one who could change his expressions whenever he chose, couldn't hide his confusion. I turned my head slightly away from him and rolled my eyes. I didn't want to talk about Andrew. I wanted to talk about  the surgery. 

Cam seemed to sense this, so he was quick to change the subject. "Okay, so you want to do the surgery." he spoke loudly, more of a statement than a question.

"What makes you think that?" I asked, trying to act like it wasn't what I was thinking the entire time. In my mind, the risk was outweighed by the possibility. I thrived in independence. I was my best self when I could do my own thing and not have to ask for help or worry about how I was going to get from one place to another. The dependence that came with Charleston's beating had taken too much of my pride, and if you are a person like me, you need pride to keep you going.

Cam laughed at my question. "Because I know you, Karev. You don't care about the death rate, you can tell me how much it concerns you and ask for my advice but I think we both know you want to go through with it no matter what I or Sue or anyone thinks you should do."

My friend's words couldn't have possibly been more true. That's why I only looked at him and offered a pained half smile. He was right. It wouldn't matter what any  of my friends thought, deep down I knew I wanted to do the surgery. I wanted the ability to walk, even if I had to be dead to have it.

I was not going to die a cripple.

"You're right." I answered, looking at the dirty roof of Cam's car. My head was reeling. My hands were shaking, and if I wasn't paralyzed, I'm sure my feet would be too.

All I needed was to call the doctor back and schedule the surgery. And the moment of truth would arise. Whether or not I lived or died, both possibilities lay in the keypad of the phone that weighed down the pocket of my sweatshirt.

"Call them back." Cam said, his voice drowned out by the sudden roar of the rain, which was now coming down hard enough to hurt anyone who was outside.

It was like God was trying to tell me not to call. But Cam knew my decision was made before I did. And I wasn't one to back out of anything.

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CHAPTER TWELVE OMG. This is like a major milestone for me, I usually don't finish the books I'm writing! 

Okay so I'm going to start chapter thirteen right now, because everything just gets more interesting from this point on and I've been excited for this point in the book for so long!! Can't believe it's happening for real though!

Comment, vote, follow me, block me, do what you want :P

-Ri