Never Say Goodbye

Chapter 18

 I jerk awake. What happened? I rub my head and yawn. I see through sleepy eyes Caleb's house.

And everything comes rushing at me. Where is Caleb? I thought he was-

Oh, no.

No.

No.

No.

No.

What day is it? I look at my phone on the table. 10:05 am. Saturday, April 7. The day Caleb was supposed to leave.

I sense a flicker of hope. Maybe Caleb stayed for me, at least long enough to say goodbye?

When have I been so selfish?

"Caleb?" I say loud enough that he could hear anywhere in the house. No answer. Maybe he couldn't hear that. "Caleb!" I scream as loud as I can. No answer.

Of course Caleb left. He had no choice. I sob. I hope he doesn't have to fly a plane because I know for a fact that one thing Caleb can't do is fly a plane.

Maybe if I just somehow fall asleep, I will forget about Caleb and everything.

I yawn. And I fall asleep.

* * *

I wake up to a piercing wail. For a second, I think something is wrong. Then I notice that the house isn't on fire, and no one is trying to kidnap me. I relax and realize that the "piercing wail" is my phone ringing.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Is this Emma Starling?" a low voice almost growls.

"This is she." The low, gruff voice snaps me to attention. It almost sounds like it is from... the air force.

No.

"I am very sorry to inform you that your boyfriend, Caleb Hayes, I believe, crashed his plane. I am not sure wh-" I hang up. Caleb crashed his plane. I sob. My phone rings again.

"Yes?" I squeak, my voice not coming out more than a whisper.

"I did not tell you how bad he is. Right now he is at the Lancaster General Hospital in fatal condition. He is barely awake. You may se-" I hang up again and bound through the door, not caring that my whole body hurts. All I care about is that he lives. He has to live.

I don't have a car. I will have to walk.

In about 1 and a half hours, I arrive at the hospital.

I run through the doors and to the receptionist. "Where is Caleb?"

"I can not provide personal information," the receptionist replies in a monotone voice, as if my world isn't falling apart.

"No, but you don't understand. I'm his girlfriend, and I got a call saying he flew a plane and crashed it. And I need to see-"

"I can not provide personal information."

I slam my hand down on the desk, a tactic I know from Divergent. All heads turn, and the receptionist finally looks up. "Well, you're going to have to, won't you?" I say in a quiet, relatively creepy voice.

"I can not provide personal information."

I slam my hand again. Being mean and being nice hasn't worked. The only thing left to do is bribe. I take a deep breath and pull out a 20 dollar bill. "Maybe Andrew Jackson will change your mind." I snap the money and send it across the counter. The receptionist eagerly takes it.

"Room 119," he says.

"Thank you," I answer. That wasn't hard. I mumble the number of the rooms. "100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119." I walk into Room 119.