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Sweat covered my brow under the blueish-black sky. With a final heave, I shoved Holly Smith into the ditch separating the road from the surrounding forest and hi-fived myself. “Nice.” I wiped my hands and stood, my back cracking, gaze cast at the stars. Well. That’s that. At least it happened on an empty road. Time to pack.
By the time I packed everything back up, a beam of headlights swarmed my vision, bathing me in a heavenly light. Loud music blared from the tinny truck, abruptly cut off by a strangled "Oh shit!" as I dove out of the way. Dirt and branches tore into my clothes as I tumbled, cursing under my breath. “Motherfucker—!”
The screeching of tires and stench of smoke brought me out of my stupor. Shit. My joints ached in protest as I sprung to my feet. Shit! All my work would be for nothing.
No.
With a burst of adrenaline, I scrambled after the car, channeling my inner Forest Gump or whatever that movie was called. It was too dark to see anything other than the car’s headlights ahead of me, growing further and further away. “Get back here!” I shouted, my lungs burning.
My sole target crested a hill and I was swallowed by darkness once more. With a gasp, I rested my hands on my knees, heaving and dry retching. “God. Gotta work out more.” I stood and looked behind me. “Motherfucker. I have a car. Jesus Christ, Scary, pull it together.”
A BOOM shook the forest, trees rustling, sending birds flying and cawing to the sky. I whirled around and saw a glowing orange pulse coming from the hill.
Holy shit. They crashed.
I ran up the hill, my sneakers tearing on the asphalt, and looked down the bottom. There—the tinny car was wrapped around a tree, fire sprouting from the front like an angry dragon. The once-loud music had warped to an eerie drawl, something out of a horror movie. I jogged down the hill, eyes wide with amazement. I’d never seen an in-person car crash before. Sue me for being curious.
A wave of heat wafted towards me as I got closer. The trunk was backlit by the fire, pulsing with smoke and energy, casting a shadow over the license plate and bumper stickers. I pulled out my phone (67% battery left) and turned on my flashlight. What greeted me was…holographic stickers of anime women. Maid outfits, bright hair, pale skin. Boobs and all. I scrunched my face with disgust and shone my flashlight at the license plate. STRW H4T.
Wait. Straw Hat. I’d seen that before. That's One Piece, right?
Frantic scrambling from inside the car took my eyes away from the license plate. “Shit, shit, shit—!” gasped someone inside. I turned off my flashlight and ran to the driver’s side, only to find—
“Taylor?!”
He looked at me, eyes white with fear and anger and shock. Unfortunately, this was Taylor. One of my best friends and the biggest weeb I knew. His porkpie hat sat haphazardly in the passenger seat, clearly thrown off from the crash, and one of his arms was pinned by the airbag. A seatbelt wrapped around his torso and dug into his neck, beads of blood sprouting from the thin cut it made. His eyes were bruised and blood dripped from his nose and mouth.
“Scary?!” he shouted, his braces shining in the light of the fire. “What—you—you bitch!”
“Fuck you, Taylor!” I shouted back, crossing my arms. “You fucking dumbass, why are you driving out here?!”
“Why are you covered in blood?!” he countered. “Oh, I know why, because you—”
“Shut up! Just—just shut up!” I ripped open the door and pulled out my pocketknife, cutting into the seatbelt. “Get out, hurry!”
Taylor tumbled out and I dragged him away from the burning car, then collapsed in the grass next to him. We both breathed heavily, and I turned my face away from him. “...Damnit, Taylor. What’re you doing here?”
“Had to…clear my mind…” he panted. “You…you…”
“Shut up. I know.” I dragged my hand over my face and groaned. “Fuck, dude. Fuck. No one was supposed to…” I trailed off. We both stayed silent, listening to the crackling fire.
“Are you gonna kill me?” he asked, voice uncharacteristically quiet, a far cry from the overconfident boy I was friends with.
“I don’t know. I should.” I stared at the sky. A shooting star danced across it. “Make a wish.”
The grass shuffled as Taylor tried to get up then hissed. “M-my arm—”
“Shut up. Lay down. Fuck, dude.” I fiddled with the knife in my hand. It was still slick and sticky. “No one was supposed to be here.”
“If you’re gonna kill me, why’d you save me from the car?” he asked. “You could’ve left me.”
I kept staring at the sky. “I don’t know. Because you’re my friend, I guess? I couldn’t let you die. I couldn’t watch you…”
“Then what’ll you do when you kill me, huh? Walk away?”
“I mean…yeah. Probably. I don’t know.” I looked at him. He looked like he was about to cry. I had only ever seen him cry at his dad’s funeral. He rarely let a smile drop from his face. Even when he was angry, he would be grinning like an idiot. “I’ve never killed someone before…before.”
He scoffed. “Well. I don’t think you’re supposed to leave witnesses.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, like you know?”
“I don’t.” His voice was quieter now. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
“Scary—”
“It does, Taylor.”
We grew quiet again. Another shooting star flew across the sky. “Make a wish,” I repeated.
He didn’t respond.
“Make a wish,” I repeated. “I wish for an ambulance. I can call one. You don’t have to—no one needs to know. I can make that choice. Okay? I chose to…but I can choose again, you know?”
He didn’t respond.
“I’m calling 911.”
No response.
“Taylor?”
I looked at him. He looked at the sky. Maybe he saw a shooting star.
“I’m calling 911,” I said again. My body tingled. It felt like static, the same static now coming from the car radio. “Just give me a second. I’m calling 911.”
Hours passed. Dawn broke. Neither of us moved.