Steady

Chapter One

Chapter One

Three Years Later

Normal people make a wish when they blow out the candles on their birthday cake.

Not me.

I fill those five seconds staring at that tiny flicker of fire with words of gratitude. I don't wish for anything. I give thanks. Because that's what you do when every year you're able to celebrate a birthday is a gift.

It would be ignorant to say that my continued existence on this earth doesn't boil down to pure, dumb luck. Or maybe it's fate. Or God. Who really knows? Either way, the universe gave me a second chance and I vow to never forget that small act of mercy. Of course, that reminder is a double-edged sword.

I lived.

Nora and Carter lived.

Even the drunk driver lived.

But a stranger died.

While my mother was wringing her hands in the waiting room, praying for me to make it through, another mother was getting news that her child's life had been taken.

That reminder hits me in the gut every time I watch my date's eyes linger a little longer than necessary on my chest. Most guys would just be checking out a girl's rack, but that's never the case for me. Guy's don't get that dreamy, lusty look in their eyes when they round second base. Instead, shock or blatant disgust shrouds their faces when they get a good look at the jagged, puckered scar running from my throat down to my belly button.

My first year in recovery, I met a number of transplant patients, but never any whose scar resembled mine. Most transplants were scheduled, planned—prayed for even. But not mine.

When a steering wheel slams through your chest and obliterates your heart, time is of the essence if there's even a sliver of a chance at survival. So, although luck was on my side that night, the physical wreckage will always remain. Even the most skilled surgeon on the planet wouldn't have been able to put me back together in an attractive fashion, and my surgeon was far from holding that title.

The fact that I survived when I could have very easily been the one getting harvested for organs is not something I take lightly. I didn't take it lightly when I was wheeled out to my mother's car on my first day out of the hospital, and three years later I still don't take it lightly. Not after moving four hours away from my family, my childhood home, and the sight of the dusty stretch of gravel road that still makes my throat constrict with pain.

But three years later, I still think of that night. When my heart flutters within my rib cage in moments of immense elation or stress and my head swims with dizzy spells, I remember. And I send up a silent thank you.

My heart isn't perfect, but it continues to beat.

***

Missouri State University—particularly it's satellite branch in West Plains—didn't appeal to me when I first started applying to colleges. However, after everything I've been through, I want nothing more than to be close to my friends, and MSU-WP grants that wish.

Nora was recruited to play volleyball for Missouri State, and once Carter got word that she was moving four hours away to a small school where no one knew her name, he applied as well. We all relished the idea of a fresh start. Their fresh start just came a year earlier than mine.

Since I took a year off to recover, Nora had already been assigned a roommate, so my dream of rooming with my best friend at college was shot all to hell. But that was before I met Sydney...

I beam at my roomy as I hold the door open so she can sneak a bag of ice into our dorm room. Once she's in, I wait for Nora and Veronica to follow. They do their best Mission Impossible impressions as they stealthily make their way down the hall, tiptoeing in front of the RA's room while carrying brown paper sacks filled with alcohol and junk food.