Summer's Last Breath

Part 8

 Like in so many small communities, news traveled fast. Especially bad news. The more sensational, the better, and someone's arm almost being severed by the jaws of an alligator qualified as sensational. Especially if that person's last name was Harrison, which was synonymous for "stinking rich." 

By the time Ally and I walked into the emergency waiting room, it was crowded with students and parents alike. Ally and I had gone to school with Jax since elementary school. We'd been friends for as long as I could remember and so had our parents. 


"God, that was the scariest thing ever," Ally said with a slight quake in her voice.


"You were great." I patted her arm as we found a spot on the wall and leaned against it. I wasn't in the mood to sit and most of the chairs were occupied anyway.


Conversation flowed as people told and retold their version of what had happened as though they were involved in a giant group therapy session.


"You kept calm when half the girls were crying all over themselves. And you really helped Jax."
 

"Yeah, he's definitely not a frog. I just don't know what made him get in the lake in the first place." Her shorts and shirt were stained and sticky with Jax's blood. I wished I'd thought to get a t-shirt out of the back of my car for her.


"Some freshmen dared him to swim across the lake and back," Katie Keller said from the chair closest to us, her eyes red and puffy. She'd been one of the criers. "He almost made it." 
Ally sighed and closed her eyes, her head thumping the wall behind her. "If Noah hadn't been there..." Her voice trailed off, unable to complete the thought. If Noah hadn't been there, Jax probably would have drowned. As it stood, he still might loose an arm. 


Mrs. Reynolds, Ally's mom, showed up a few minutes later, armed with a disapproving look and a duffle bag. 

"Girls," she said, giving Ally and then me a brief hug. "Are you all right, Ally?"


She held Ally at arms length, her smooth face cataloging Ally's disheveled appearance. Her hair had gone flat and her makeup was smudged from crying. She'd called her mom on the way to the hospital to fill her in on what had happened. I'd called my parents too. If my mom hadn't been in Atlanta at market scoping out the latest trends in home decor, she'd have been here as well, rallying around the Harrisons with the rest of the community. 


"Yes, mother. I'm fine," Ally replied, her tone distracted. Despite her calculated pursuit of Jax, she appeared genuinely distraught, and I could only assume she actually cared for him. In the back of my mind, I'd kind of thought Ally's interest in Jax was for her mom's sake. While hanging at Ally's house, I'd heard Mrs. Reynolds enumerating Jax's seemingly endless qualities, saying how perfect they were for each other. I wondered if she was going to add dumbs to the list, because only a "dumbass" would swim at night in a known alligator haunt on a dare. 


"Well, you look horrible. I brought you some clothes. You should find the bathroom and freshen up," Mrs. Reynolds said, and I swear I heard her cluck her tongue like the hen that she was. I felt sorry for Ally, because she was this beautiful, talented, and smart girl who only heard words like "big" and phrases like "not the brightest bulb" from the lips of her own mother, even after dropping thirty pounds last year and earning a spot on the varsity volleyball team. And she was scheduled to take the ACT yet again on Saturday because she was only one point away from breaking into the elusive club with a score of 30 or higher. At sixteen, Ally possessed more drive than most adults I knew. 

 
Ally took the bag her mom offered and let it fall to the floor as though it were too heavy. 


"I'm going to go talk to Jenny and see if she wants to help with some food for the family," Mrs. Reynolds said, then trotted off in her three-inch wedges, wearing a dress that looked more appropriate for a cocktail party than a hospital waiting area.


We took a while in the bathroom. It was like the inner sanctum of waiting rooms. Clumps of girls talked around the sinks, reapplying lip-gloss. Charlene was smoking a cigarette in one of the stalls. Few were actually using the toilets other than Ally, who was changing into the skinny jeans and over sized t-shirt her mother had brought her. 

By the time we emerged from the bathroom, the news that Jax would keep his arm was spreading around the hallways and everyone in them breathed a collective sigh of relief. Disaster averted. The doctors were still stitching up his arm and they wanted to keep him overnight for observation. Infection was the biggest concern now, reminding me Noah was still waiting for me. He could wrestle alligators and find a set of keys in the deep dark, but walking into a human hospital and exposing himself to any germs that might be present would be too much of a risk. 

Since Ally's mom was here, I didn't feel the need to hang around, so I hugged Ally's neck, said goodbye to a few other people, then headed for the automatic doors and the parking lot.


My Tahoe was parked under a streetlight—a habit my dad had ingrained in me when parking after dark. Noah was standing outside the passenger door and he had company. Derrick and Tyler had joined him. I watched Tyler slam his fist squarely into the center of Noah's stomach and broke into a sprint, more of an instinctual response than out of any real fear they could hurt him. Tyler and Derrick were hardly a threat to Noah and I knew it. Noah knew it. Derrick and Tyler knew it, but it somehow made them feel bigger and badder to ignore the simple fact that Noah could kick both their asses while blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back.


"What are you afraid of, Jacobs?" Derrick taunted when Noah did nothing but stand there, blond hair falling in his face. 
I thought it was obvious Noah wasn't afraid of much of anything, including alligators. He certainly wasn't afraid of Tyler and Derrick, or their fists. 


"I don't like spiders much," Noah said and grinned through a busted lip as if there was something he enjoyed about getting punched. His tongue darted out and he licked a drop of blood from his bottom lip, which was a tad plumper than usual. Anger fueled my progress across the parking lot. I'd seen enough blood and gore for one night. I'd also seen Noah fight in earnest and he could have easily deflected that blow from Tyler.


"What the hell is wrong with you?" I zeroed in on Derrick since he was closest. "Noah saved Jax in case you didn't notice."


"Well, no one asked him to. We could have handled it." Tyler returned his attention to Noah and shoved him in the chest with both hands. "So stay the hell away, Fish Boy."


"Cut it out, Derrick. You're being a jerk." I shouldered my way between them, my fists balling.


Noah laughed. "Is that the best your gray matter can come up with? Fish Boy?"


"One day Jacobs, I'm going to enjoy seeing your gray matter splattered all over the pavement."


"Grow up, Derrick. You should be thanking him. Jax is alive and still in the possession of both arms, so back off."
 

"I guess Fish Boy has his uses," Derrick said, piercing me with a hard look, lip curled in distaste. "You better choose your friends wisely, or you might end up without any."


I was pretty sure I had.