68 | last words

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Blake smacks a sugar packet against his palm before he rips it open with his teeth, dumping the contents into his coffee. "We weren't even planning on going out, you know? We were just at the diner and Cora invited us to this party."

"Cora the waitress?"

"Yeah, she's got it real bad for Nate." He shakes his head, reaching for another sugar. "You'd think the sun shines out of his ass with the way she throws herself at him."

"Never took you for being a bitter one, Blazer."

He smiles, stirring his coffee. "Don't get me wrong, me and Nate are like—" He crosses his fingers tight. "—but he has a knack for hooking up with girls I'm into. Unintentionally, but still, wasn't fun being his cellophane sidekick when he was rebounding."

"Wait, him and Cora?"

"Uh-huh." He skims over my surprised expression. "She was the first one he was with after Alex. He hated it, though."

I can't stop my face from lighting up a little. "Why?"

Blake shrugs. "It was too soon, he said it felt like he was cheating."

"Ironic." I roll my eyes, tapping my fingers against my steaming cup. "So you guys went to the party, and..."

"And it was fun, but we actually ended up leaving pretty early. Well, earlier than we wanted."

"How come?"

"Because Nate wanted to, and he was our ride. He was all good, but then he got kind of bummed out and distracted and he wanted to bail. I figured Alex just texted him to meet up or something. He wouldn't tell me."

The cup burns my fingers as I press them down harder. I quickly take a sip, scalding my throat instead. A text. Was that my text, or did Alex really contact him? Could my text have distracted him enough to cause the accident?

I gulp a mouthful and set my cup down, leaping to the next logical explanation. "You guys had been drinking, then? When you left?"

"Sure, but Nate wasn't drunk if that's what you're wondering," he says firmly. "I was with him all night. He had two beers, and trust me, that doesn't do jack to him. He knew he was the designated driver."

"Good... good. So, what do you remember from the crash?"

Blake rests his arms on the table, absently tearing up the empty sugar packet. The cafeteria is sparse and quiet, only a couple other people getting coffee, some doctors and nurses ending their shifts and grabbing a snack. Hospitals have always given off an eeriness to me, but at this time of the night, the eeriness is palpable.

"We'd just dropped off Ollie at home, we were on the way to my house and this other car just came out of nowhere," Blake says softly, his eyes going distant. "It smashed right into the passenger side where Rob was. And we rolled, over and over, and when we stopped the car was on its side. I remember seeing Rob like, hanging at the top, his belt was keeping him up there. God, there was so much glass everywhere. And I remember seeing Nate try to get to him, but I think he passed out. And my phone's all smashed up—" He pulls it out of his pocket, chucking it on the table. "But it worked enough for me to call for help."

I stare at his destroyed phone. There's blood on the glass.

"You know what's fucked up?" Blake says, his voice turning sour. "The guy who hit us, Nate's mom told me he ran a red light, and all he got was a minor concussion."

A whimper abruptly escapes me, my lip involuntary trembling while my eyes fill with fresh tears. Blake stares at me with wide eyes as they run down my reddening skin. I bury my face in my hands, crying into them with no control left.

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