Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [93]
And that was the million-dollar question. Why would someone hurt Sage? She hadn’t hurt that guy. She hadn’t done anything to him but reveal a secret. Why was that such a big deal?
Why is that such a big deal? Why is it always such a big deal? If I’d been able to get over it, to see Sage as she sees herself, none of this would have happened.
Someone was standing next to me. It took me a moment to place the towering bald man who was hovering at my side.
“Mr. Hendricks!”
He punched me so hard I didn’t feel it. My face actually went numb. I was literally airborne for one second; the crush of my skull on the concrete drove white spikes through my line of vision.
He loomed over me, a look of pure hate on his face. I couldn’t move. For the first time in my life, I feared I was going to die. Sage’s father was going to stomp me to death, right there in front of the hospital.
“It wasn’t him!” Tammi was screaming, trying to block her father. “It wasn’t him, Dad! He didn’t …”
Mr. Hendricks grabbed me under the arms and yanked me to my feet. “Get out of here!” he shouted. “If I see you again, you’re dead! Do you hear me, Logan? Dead!”
Bobbing and weaving, I stumbled across the parking lot, not paying attention to where I was going. I wanted to get away from Mr. Hendricks, but also, I just wanted to get away.
I found myself in an unfamiliar area, hospital offices on one side, an empty construction site on the other. I leaned against an orange-and-white barrel until my eyes began to focus.
This was my fault. All of it. I put Sage in that hospital, the same as if I’d punched her in the face and left her bleeding on the side of the road.
She’d been upset because of me. She’d wanted revenge because of me. I was even the one who’d taken her to that frat party. All of this happened because of my own stupid self.
Eighteen years old, and I’d already ruined someone’s life. Sage might not recover from this, at least inside. And I had no idea how to make things right.
chapter thirty-two
I WANDERED through the morass of parking garages and hospital office buildings. My skull hurt worse than the hangover from the other day. Every lot, every garage looked identical. When I passed a pickup truck with a tarp in the bed, I considered lying down for a quick nap.
Eventually, I noticed the Rollins Dining Hall. Behind that was Gillett, Laura’s dormitory. The building was locked up for the night; you needed to swipe your student ID to enter. Luckily, a couple was bidding each other a slobbery good night on the stairs and buzzed me in so they could have a little privacy.
So what was I going to do, just stagger into Laura’s room with a head injury and no ride home? I thought about banging on Brian’s door. He’d probably still be up, but that might have been a bit much for a guy I hardly knew. I paused in front of Laura’s dorm room, took a deep breath, and knocked. After about thirty seconds, an unfamiliar female voice mumbled, “Who’s there?”
“It’s Logan.”
I heard someone get out of bed and walk to the peephole. “It’s some guy. He looks drunk.”
“Get out of here, or we’ll call the police!” Laura blearily shouted.
“It’s me, Logan!”
“Huh?” I heard Laura get up and pause in front of the door. “Logan!” She quickly threw the door open.
I didn’t pause to say hello as I collapsed on Laura’s bed.
“Logan! What’s the matter?”
I opened one eye. Laura and her roommate, Ebony, were staring at me. Laura looked deeply concerned. Ebony looked like someone who’d been woken from a sound sleep by an incoherent stranger.
“Aspirin,” I muttered. “Water.”
Laura began rummaging through her medicine cabinet. Ebony approached me with a somewhat less contemptuous expression on her face.
“Sit up,” she ordered. She then placed her thumbs on my cheek and stared me in the eye.
“She’s a nursing student,” explained Laura.
Ebony examined my eye, which had almost swollen shut.
“Get in a fight?” she asked, gently poking at my scalp.
I shrugged. Up close, Laura’s roommate was even cuter than in