Best Friends [UNEDITED]

Chapter 11

(Idea courtesy of @xadrigirlx )

Noah's POV

I stuff my phone into my pocket, running out of my room. I throw on my shoes and leave without saying a word to Aaron as he calls my name behind me.

I run down the street and to Lucas's house. I try the door, but it's locked. I circle around the house, looking for a way in. I find a back door, a mat in front of it. Taking a wild guess, I lift up the mat and find a key. I take it, unlock the door and run inside in a fit of panic.

"Lucas!" I call, "Lucas, where are you?!"

I circle the house, looking everywhere for where he could be hiding himself away. "Lucas!" I call again, louder and with fury in my voice.

This is your fault! A voice screams in my head, he'd be here if it weren't for you!

I call his name, over and over and over, searching every inch of his tiny house. When I find nothing, I leave, tears streaking my face, feeling weak at the knees. I lock the back door and put the key back where I found it.

Then, something pops into my head.

Sunday. I freaked out when he didn't answer my texts or calls, so I went looking for him. I couldn't get into his house, so I ran to the only place I knew.

He seemed so interested in the little wood the first time, I knew he'd be back a second time. And maybe, he'll be there today.

No, not maybe. He has to be there. Where else could he be?

So I run, as fast as my legs can carry me. I jump over the fence, landing awkwardly, making my ankles sore and achy. I push through, forcing my legs to move as I jump over logs and clear branches from my path. I cross the stream, climbing over the log I left there.

Finally, I hear the rushing water.

I speed up, a smile spreading on my face. I expect to see him there, his phone dead, or just on silent, watching the fish. Maybe even mumbling to them, like they could understand him. I hear a voice, broken and sad. It must be Lucas, god why did I kick him out to talk to Scotty?

"Lucas!" I call, running to the mass sitting in front of the water. "I'm sorry for what I did, I promise I--"

I'm cut off when the figure turns around, but it isn't Lucas.

"Noah, thank god!" Tristen cries, tears already streaking down his cheeks. He jumps up and hugs me.

Tristen was a guy from the basketball team. I didn't know him all that well, but he was a show off and a ball hog. He was kind, though, when it didn't come to the game. He'd always host our get-togethers at his house, and he'd provide snacks, never letting us pay him for anything.

He clings to me like I'm a lifeline. I immediately get worried. "What's going on?" I ask shakily.

"Where's your friend? Lucas, where is he?" Tristen pulls away in panic.

"I don't know, I was just looking for him."

"Oh no," Tristen lets out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.

"What happened?"

"I heard a Luke Duggan got in some sort of accident or something."

"What?! When?!" I screech.

"I don't know, really recently."

"Oh god.. what can I do? Where can I go?"

"The hospital..? I'll drive you if you need me to."

"That'd be great."

We rush back out of the woods and to Tristen's house, which isn't far. I sit in the passengers seat and get a sudden blast from the past of sitting in his passengers seat for to get to every single game. We always had fun on the drive out, listening to the radio and belting out the lyrics of the most embarrassing songs.

He gets in the front seat, starting the car and pulling out into the street. The drive is filled with quiet tension, but finally, a question pops out of my mouth.

"Why do you care about Lucas? And how did you even find out?" I ask. Tristen exhales.

"They both have the same answer," he says, "it was a car accident. Me and Connor were going for pizza, and because we'd be right back, we left our phones at home and hopped into the car. The driver behind us was swerving a lot. I think he was drunk. We stopped at a stop light, and a boy crossed the road. He had his hood up on his jacket, so we couldn't tell if he was from our school or not. We started saying things, mean things about him, until we heard tires screeching behind us. The driver behind us didn't stop at the sign, and rear ended us, launching us into the boy. I ran to get help, call an ambulance, get an adult, I don't know where I was going. Connor said he'd stay with the boy. I got back to the house and called an ambulance, but when I told them how long it was since the accident, they told me it might be too late.

Finally, I got back to where the accident was, but nothing was left but a dented stop sign and a blood stain on the road. I tried to call Connor, but he didn't pick up, then I remembered the one time I've seen that jacket; the day Lucas tried to be tough and stand up for you. I felt horrible for beating him up, and for being so mean to you. I haven't heard from Connor since then."

I stare at him, trying to find a sick joke in his story, but not being able to. I look over at him. He's shaking, driving more carefully than he's ever driven before.

"I'm sorry that had to happen to you." I say quietly.

"Don't be. I didn't get hurt, your friend did, and I deserve to have had to witness it. The whole team, we were all terrible to you."

"It's fine." I mutter.

"No it's not. I'll make it up to you, Noah, I promise."

I don't reply, staring out the window, praying that Lucas is okay.