JAINA

Detective Ruiz never showed up at the hospital. I waited as long as I could with Nathan, but finally decided I wanted to give the information to the police so they can move forward with the investigation. I climb the front steps of the police department with my folder full of pictures and information. I'm not expecting what I see inside.

Elijah is standing in the lobby, looking slightly disheveled and definitely had been crying. He's with another man I have never met and they seem to be engaged in an important conversation. They shake hands and the man turns and walks away, giving me a friendly smile as he goes.

"Jaina," Elijah says when I meets my gaze.

I feel guilty for what I'm about to do, even though his friend deserves whatever punishment he gets. I wonder how much Elijah knows. Is he here for an interview about any of this or is he here for another crime. At this point I can admit I really don't know much about him at all and I'm not sure I want to anymore. If he's been covering for his friend, I'll never speak to him again.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"We need to talk," he says. T

he words make my stomach sink low in my gut. My heart squeezes in my chest. We do need to talk, but I don't know if I really want to listen to anything he has to say.

"Ok," I say reluctantly. "Want to talk here or outside?" I ask.

"Outside if that's ok," he replies.

We walk wordlessly outside to the large steps. There isn't bench or anywhere to sit and I plan on telling him everything I know about his friend and the accident. He motions for us to sit at the top step. I do, and I pull the folder closer to my chest protective of the information inside it.

"You know my friend Bryant has been going through some stuff," he says.

Yes, I do. He's been hiding the fact that he almost killed Nathan. Instead of saying this though, I just nod. I want to hear it all from his mouth.

"Well, I didn't know what it was. I thought he was just off the rails with his alcohol addiction. I didn't know why. I guess I thought it might be stress or the end of the school year, to be honest I didn't dig too deep because he was keeping me away from all of it and I had my own shit going on," he says.

He stops talking when a few police offices walk past us. This is not the most ideal place to be having this conversation, but I want to stay close to the police since I'm not sure I can trust Elijah any more.

"The night of the accident," he says, "I was at a street race like the one I took you to. It was a hectic night. There was a car there my dad and I work on and it was having a lot of trouble. I was trying to fix it and something slipped. It's how I broke my wrist," he says holding up the cast as evidence. "I ended up driving to the ER and waiting for hours to see a doctor and get an x-ray. I was there overnight. The next morning I saw you in the elevator."

I don't know what I believe anymore, but I'm more willing to listen now.

Elijah continues with his story, "Because of that, I didn't get to meet up with Bryant. He went to the take-overs without me. I didn't really care because I only go to hang with him. They aren't really my thing as you have probably learned."

I nod. I knew he wasn't in the car with Bryant, but that doesn't mean he hasn't known his friend was responsible this whole time.

"I didn't know," he says. His eyes plead with me to believe him. "Bryant was the driver of the car that hit you."

I'm a little shocked that he just admitted that. I know what it will mean for his friend—so he does too.

"I found out five days ago," he says. "But Bryant is an alcoholic. He's really struggling—has been for a while." He wipes a hand down his face and takes a deep breath. "We had to get him sober before he could do the right thing. IF he had to go cold turkey, he would have died."

I don't know what to say so I just look at him, taking in all this information. I can't imagine being an alcoholic so young and what it must have been like for Elijah to have to witness that fall into the addiction. But, I can imagine what it's like to think your best friend is going to die, and I'd be lying if I said forgiving Bryant would ever come easy.

"He confessed," Elijah tells me. "That's why I'm here. Causing the accident was the thing that made him lose control of the drinking. It's not an excuse—there is no excuse for what he did, but he thought he killed you. He thought he killed both of you."

"He could have, and he almost did," I say.

"I know. And I know it won't matter what I say, but he's not a bad guy. This isn't something I would ever think he was capable of. You don't have to believe me, but it's the reason I never suspected him even when we were going to the take-overs and you were searching for the driver. I never thought he would be able to live with himself, and I was right. He was drinking himself to death because of it."

"You said he confessed?" I ask.

"Yes. Against his lawyer's advice obviously. He got sober enough to go in, and just finished telling the detective everything. He's been honest. He admitted he had been drinking earlier in the day, and that he knew he had hit your car and fled without stopping at all. He's in a lot of trouble."

I stare out at the street, trying to process everything I've just heard. "Thank you for being honest,' I tell him. "I'm sorry about your friend. I hope this makes him get some help."

"You can't make anyone get help," Elijah says. "I've been trying for months. But now he wants help."

"What will happen to him?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says. "I just wanted you to know the truth. He's not a monster. I'm not excusing his behavior and what he did, but he's my best friend and I've watched what this has done to him. He wants to be dead and not because of the possible jail time he's facing, but because he truly thought he had killed you."

"That must have been hard to see and hear," I tell him. I know how hard it is to watch your best friend dying.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I tell him and it's the truth. He wasn't a part of the accident and he brought Byrant here to do the right thing even though it meant he would lose his best friend for a while.

"I don't know what you have in that folder," he says, tapping the top of it, "but I think you should turn it in. We both have to do what's best for the friends we've grown up with."

I nod and we both stand up.

"I hope to hear from you soon," he tells me. "I'll let it be your decision."

I watch him walk down the steps, never looking back.

"Elijah!" I call to him. He turns around and I can see the torment on his face.
"I'll call you later. I have someone who wants to meet you now that he's awake."

The relief on his face is so obvious it makes me smile.

"He's awake?" he asks.

"He is," I tell him.

Elijah nods. "I'd like that," he says. Then he turns and heads to his car.

I walk inside the police department and the officer escorts me back to talk to Detective Ruiz. In the hallway is a long black bench that stretches the length of three rooms. Sitting on it is a teen boy. His eyes lift to mine and I see months of sickness in them. His hands are cuffed and he is locked onto the bench. My breath catches and I feel a rush of empathy and concern for him.

"Are you Bryant?" I ask.

Detective Ruiz steps out of a door before he can answer. He looks at me and then back at the boy on the bench.

"Come on inside Jaina. I have an update to share with you. I've heard Nathan is awake," he says.

I stand, still looking at Bryant. With the pause in conversation. Bryant answers me.

"I am," he says. "Were you in the car?" he asks.

I nod.

"I'm so sorry," he says. Tears fall down his face. "Is your friend going to be ok?"

"It looks like it," I tell him.

He smiles slightly, then turns himself on the bench so I can go talk to the detective.