Maybe It Was Fate

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chris POV

The minute I see Allie fall, I practically throw my cousin sideways, her eyes wide from shock. I skid to a stop next to Allie, pulling her into my chest.

A gash runs along the side of her head, starting at the top of her hairline, making its way down her skin. Blood clots against her temple.

"Call an ambulance," I whisper to myself. "Call an ambulance."

My cousin is fumbling for her phone, pushing blonde hair from her face.

"Allie." I say to her, cradling her against my chest, trying to wake her.

Her eyes remain closed. What I would give to see her eyes again. I press my fingers against her neck, searching for a sign that she's alive. I light thud bounces against my fingers, indicating she's okay. Well, alive.

"Bev!" I yell at my cousin. "What do we do?"

She kneels beside me, her fingers trembling against the phone. She describes Allie's state to the person on the phone. I watch her intently, waiting for something. Anything.

"Put light pressure with something on the gash." She tells me.

I grab my back pack and tip it upside down, watching everything fall out of it. I search through the things for something to cover the cut with. My hands fall on a white Tee. I grab it and tear it without a second thought.

I press it against her head as softly as I can. The murmurs coming from people around me are muffled but they annoy me none the less.

"What?" I yell at a couple staring at the situation.

"Chris. Calm down." Bev places a hand on my arm.

I jerk away from her.

"No." I snap at her. "These people watched her fall and did nothing. No one is helping. You're all staring at her! She could've died! Did you see how hard she hit her head?"

My breath hitches in my throat, a cold wind whistles by, biting at my exposed skin. The moments that pass are so slow. Every second that an ambulance isn't here, irritation itches at me.

I swallow hard, hoping my emotions go with it. They don't.

I want to yell at every damn person that looks at us with judgement and pity. But even more at the ones who don't look at us.

Allie is unconscious with blood seeping from her head and people can't take a second to ask what's wrong? To even glance at her with a moment of concern.

No. They leave two teenage kids to sort it out.

Ten minutes' pass. I'm moments from punching something. However, an ambulance stops me. I wave at them, ushering the paramedics over. A younger lady rushes over, kneeling beside me Allie, two men grab a stretcher from the back.

Everything happens so fast. Two seconds and she's on the stretcher. Five and she's in the back of the van.

"Can I come?" I ask, panic in my voice.

One of the male paramedics looks between Bev and I. "Only one." He says, climbing into the back of the van.

I look to my cousin. She nods. "Go."

I squeeze her arm and jump into the back of the ambulance. The stench of chemicals fills my nose but it doesn't bother me. I study the paramedic who's dabbing a wet gauze on the gash.

His black hair is threaded with white hairs and his face is set in concentration.

"How long has she been unconscious?" His voice startles me.