The Safest Lies Read Online Free

and Mark were nearby, clustered near the front door.
    And I wasn’t sure what I’d just agreed to, so I said, “Wait. What does that mean?”
    And then Ryan looked over his shoulder, where we could both see his friends waiting for him, and said, “What do you want it to mean?”
    “Is this a trick question?”
    It felt like a trick question.
    “No. Uh.” Leo said something indecipherable behind him. “Look,” Ryan said, his face unreadable. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
    “Oh. Okay.”
    And just like that, he left. No exchange of numbers, no plans for later. And when school started up the next week and I found myself assigned to the seat beside him in math, both of us just pretended it hadn’t happened.

    There were probably some social cues I wasn’t aware of, some high school mating-ritual dance I’d never learned—or maybe do something sometime meant meet me in the back closet after work.
    I bet he had not expected do something sometime would mean rappelling into my dangling car and cutting me out of my seat belt, then hanging from a harness attached to my waist instead of falling to his death.
    Hey, remember that time we did something? Good times.
    “I just want to go home. I need to see my mom,” I told the woman looking me over. She didn’t look much older than me, to be honest. God, where were the adults in charge?
    “You were unconscious, Kelsey. We need to check that out at the hospital. Your mom can meet us there.”
    “No, she can’t.” She couldn’t. “I need to call her. I need my phone.”
    The lights were too bright from all the cars on the road, headlights shining directly at us, and I squinted, feeling a headache brewing.
    Ryan weaved through the cluster of cars and emergency vehicles haphazardly parked around the site, holding his arm limply in front of him, apparently also needing to get checked out in the ambulance. He paused, handed me his phone with his good arm. “Sorry,” he said, “I don’t think yours made it.” I took it from his outstretched hand and dialed home while he shifted foot to foot, pretending not to pay attention. I had to try twice before I got the right numbers with the tremble in my hands, which I’m sure he noticed.

    It rang four times, like I knew it would, before the automated voice of the answering machine instructed me in a robotic tone to please leave a message.
    I lowered my voice. “Mom, it’s just me. Pick up.”
    “Kelsey?” I could hear her brain working overtime: Daughter calls from phone that’s not hers. Where’s the danger?
    “Hey, I’m okay, but I had a car accident, I’m so sorry, but they’re making me go to the hospital to be sure. But I’m totally fine, I promise.”
    She sucked in a breath. “I’ll call Jan.”
    “No,” I said. “I’m really fine. I just need a ride home. I’ll call the car service when I’m ready. Oh, and I think I lost my phone.”
    I heard her exhale slowly, could picture her closing her eyes, doing that breathing thing, picturing me alive, and safe, and home. “You’re fine,” she said. “And you’re with the doctors. And you’ll be home soon.” The good before the bad.
    “Sorry about the car.”
    “It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re not talking about the car again.” A pause. “But I think I have to call Jan.”

    I handed Ryan back his phone, and the too-young-to-be-in-charge medic ushered me into the back of the ambulance.
    “Hey, hold on,” Ryan said.
    I held on. My grip on the door handle, my feet on the metal loading dock, so I towered over him. He looked like he had a thousand things he wanted to say to me. I had things I wanted to say to him, too. But where to start? Where to even start?
    “You need a ride home from the hospital?”
    “I can call someone.” The car service was one of the first numbers I’d memorized when I was younger.
    “I’ll be there anyway. So.”
    So. Communication: not our strength.
    “Okay. If I see you there…”
    He nodded.