And So It Goes by Judy Colella (some good books to read .txt) 📕

More crunching glass and metal being savaged distracted me. I turned from Gina to see what had caused the sound, and realized someone had managed to get the door open. A second later, a couple of guys in white shirts with insignias on them climbed into the bus. They were holding metal boxes with handles and began crouching down next to the students still lying on the floor. My scrambled brain, after a moment of blankness, identified them as EMTs. The cavalry had arrived. Or so my grandfather would have declared had he been there. He’d been into movie westerns big-time.

By the time the EMTs got to me and Gina, everyone who had been on the floor was gone, all of them helped to their feet and brought outside. I’d gotten Gina onto the seat and had my arm around her – the one that was still working, of course – and was holding the bottom of my jacket against her nose to contain the bleeding.

“How are you two doing?”

Sarcasm tried to assert itself, but gratitude for the EMT’s presence told it to take a hike. “I’m okay, I think. Just my shoulder. But her nose is bleeding a lot and I can’t seem to stop it.”

“All right, let’s see. Can you stand up?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

He stepped back, and after whispering, “You’re gonna be fine” into Gina’s ear, I stood and went past him into the aisle.

“Her name is Gina,” I told him, hoping she hadn’t lost too much blood already.

“Thanks. Hi, Gina – I’m Todd, and I just want to take a look at your nose, okay?”

Another EMT approached me and suggested I go get examined. “You appear to be all right, but there could be damage you can’t see.”

“Okay.” I didn’t want to leave Gina, at least not until I knew she’d be okay, but I also realized I’d be in the way if I hung around. “My shoulder really hurts, so sure.”

“This way.”

I almost stopped. Really? This way? Was there any other way off the bus? Maybe a vortex in one of the seats that I’d missed? Or a previously invisible door? Or…it occurred to me that in addition to shock, I could have a concussion, which would explain the silent ranting about vortices and unseen bus doors.

Outside, things were far messier than they’d been in the bus. Ambulances, police cars, and a couple of fire trucks had made a kind of circle around the accident. People had gathered, of course – I was constantly amazed at the power of morbid curiosity – and were being kept back behind barriers that had been erected, making me think that I’d been on the bus helping Gina way longer than I’d realized. A large silver SUV that appeared to be almost undamaged despite being on its side was being hosed down with foam. Standing a few feet from the undercarriage…ever notice how vehicles look so much bigger when they’re tipped over? No? Right.

As I was saying. Standing a few feet from the undercarriage (another cool word) were three policemen and a girl who looked like she was not much older than I am, but I wasn’t sure because she was crying hysterically, while somehow getting out the words, “Oh my God, my parents will kill me! Oh my God, no, no, I can’t believe this!” and other stuff that made it clear she didn’t give a flying crap about the kids on the bus. When I later learned that her evil texting ways had caused the accident, my disgust with her went off the charts and I hoped she’d go to jail for a hundred years. With no cell phone.

“Over here, hon.” The EMT had taken my uninjured arm and was waving toward one of the ambulances.

Hon. Better than Sonic, I suppose, or freak. Or girl who got kissed in front of everyone in the cafeteria. Which suddenly didn’t seem to matter even a little bit. “Thanks.”

I had a dislocated right shoulder, a hairline fracture of my collar bone, severe bruising from said shoulder all the way down the right side of my body, but no breaks, no internal bleeding, and only a mild concussion. Ha. See? I knew it! About the concussion, I mean.

Gina had indeed suffered a broken nose, which we later deduced came from her face smacking into her tablet as it made contact with the back of the seat in front of her, but the doctors had been able to fix it so she wouldn’t be disfigured or anything.

Aside from that, no one on the bus had any life-threatening injuries – just a broken ankle here, a fractured wrist there, bumps, bruises, things like that. And the bus driver was fine. Of course he was. He had a seatbelt.

By the afternoon, in fact, most of us were back at school. Another great reason to use the word “brutal.” I couldn’t believe my mom didn’t tell me to take the rest of the day off. I mean, I had a freaking concussion! Great parenting, mother dear.

Gina spent the rest of the day in the hospital, as did a few of the others, but the rest of us showed up with casts on various limbs, bandages and slings like mine, and were treated like heroes for the most part. Some students stared but said nothing, while a few avoided looking at us altogether, which I didn’t understand.

Lacy had a car. An expensive car that worked. She was one of the few who did the silent staring thing, which didn’t surprise me. Jacob, however, ran up to me the second he spotted me, and put up his hands like he wanted to either grab me by the shoulders, hug me, or measure my width for a coffin.

“Hurting. Don’t touch.”

He lowered his hands. “Oh, wow. Yeah, I guess the sling – sorry. But I was so worried when I heard about the accident, because I figured you took the bus. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was the same one you took, but when you didn’t show up, I knew you’d been in the accident, and – ”

“Jacob! Chill! I’m fine, and you sound like a caffeinated toucan.”

“A what?”

“Never mind. I’m fine. I got a dislocated shoulder and stuff, is all.”

He smiled and leaned closer.

I took a step backward, putting up my left hand. “If you kiss me, I’ll do something with my totally uninjured foot that will qualify you for the Vienna Boys’ Choir.”

His jaw dropped.

I can only surmise he had no clue who the VBC was. To be honest, I only knew who they were because my grandmother used to play their albums every Saturday morning while me and my mom were living with her before we got the house we’re in now. Okay, Shasta, who is burbling?

Someone else standing behind me, however, knew exactly who they were, because he burst out laughing. I turned around. Eyebrows shot up. Jaw dropped (mine this time).

“I’d forgotten how clever you are,” said Steven. “Hey, you okay?”

“If I can manage idiotic snarkiness about the Vienna Boys’ Choir, I must be.” What the heck? I hadn’t seen the guy, except at a distance passing through the halls, for nearly a year. “What do you want?”

One of his brows rose. “For real? I just wanted to see if you were all right. They announced the accident over the speaker this morning, and I realized it had to be your bus.”

“How did you know I was taking the bus and not driving?”

Shrug. “Haven’t seen your car in the parking lot for a while.”

“So you were looking for it?”

“No, but it’s kind of hard to miss, unless it’s missing.”

Steven is smart. So am I. Jacob, not so much. He shifted behind me, clearing his throat, and it occurred to me that my rapid-fire discussion with Steven the Cruel was confusing the daylights out of Jacob the Assaulter.

“Shasta?”

I turned back toward Jacob. “Yes?”

“Who is this?” He pointed at Steven.

“Steven Eristov.” His father is Russian or something. Cool name that I used to tell myself in fevered daydreams worked well with “Shasta.”

“How do you know him?”

“Well, dad, he and I used to go out.”

Jacob scowled, shoving his hands in his pockets, and nodded. “Funny. So… used to go out?”

“Have you seen him anywhere near me before today?”

“No.”

“Come to think of it, if you don’t remember him, and don’t know I was dating him last year, you mustn’t have known of my existence until what – a couple of days ago?”

He blushed. Ha! This day was full of surprises. Steven was still hanging around behind me, so I turned to him again. “Well?”

“Well…what? How bad are you hurt?” He nodded at my sling.

I rattled off my short list of injuries. “Are you done?”

“Done with what?”

“Pestering me. We’re between classes, in case you hadn’t noticed, and the bell is about to go off.”

The bell went off.

“See? Go explore a cave now and leave me alone.”

“Shasta! That’s not fair!”

Something inside of me began to simmer, and would soon become a hard boil. “You so do not want to go down that road, Steven. Especially not today.” I turned away, swooshed past Jacob, and headed to class.

Freakin’ Steven…freakin’ Jacob…freakin bus drivers…the morning’s dark clouds must have been a dire-day warning after all. And not because of the bus accident – after all, the day was far from over.

Zombies would have been nice. In all seriousness, I would have preferred zombies to this, this being me stuffed in a supply closet with more kids than should have been able to fit.

Clown cars came to mind, but only for a second. A girl named Tracy whimpered from somewhere behind one of the cheerleaders, and Tessa of the stomping incident hissed at her to shut the hell up.

I had turned sideways to avoid having my shoulder leaned up against too much but it hadn’t helped, and was wondering how long we could survive before all the oxygen was gone. I so should have insisted that I stay in the hospital instead of giving in to mom’s murmurs about not being able to pay the bill if I didn’t leave. Or I could have told her I was dizzy and wanted to go home so I could lie down, but no. I went along with her you’re-tough-as-nails speech and went to school instead.

And now I was stuffed in a supply closet with more kid than should have been able to fit. Which I already said. Sorry. This is awful. This is also where I explain the situation. I mean, being jammed into a supply closet wasn’t something on my class schedule, after all.

After the whole nonsense with Steven, who I was even angrier with because he had filled out a lot since the year before and was now even more buff and taller and stuff, and yeah. Enough. So after that, I went to my economics class where, despite the rattling of the windows in a sudden, intense gust of wind, I was planning to catch a nap. This nap was not to be, alas. A moment before I could get