Out of the Fog

Submitted into Contest #267 in response to: There’s been an accident — what happens next?... view prompt

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Drama Friendship High School

This story contains sensitive content

Trigger warning: contains inappropriate under-age relationships

I never expected that the one day my mom made me walk to school, I would witness such a scene. 

Usually, Mom drives me. This morning, she needed to rush into work an hour earlier than expected, and Aunt Susie, my backup, was on vacation. 

I walked downstairs just as she was leaving. 

“Oh, honey!” She said. “I was leaving you a note. Sorry, but I need to get to the office before Mrs. Thomas does. She’s expecting the earnings report on her desk before eight a.m. and I didn’t have time to write it up last night.”

She was shoveling her oatmeal down and trying to write me a note simultaneously. 

“It’s freezing out, Mom!” I whined.

“So sorry, Jenna. Layer up and stuff your jacket in your locker when you get to school.” She gulped down some coffee. “It’s only a mile. Make sure you walk towards traffic. There’re a few sections of no sidewalks and that blind curve.”

“Mom, I’m not ten anymore. I know how to walk along Mount Tam Boulevard. You don’t have to hold my hand anymore.”

“Well, I beg to differ, sweetie. Once a mom, always a mom. Be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” I plopped down on the bar chair at the kitchen island. Mom grabbed her keys and gave me a peck on the cheek. 

As she walked out the door, I yelled, “Hey! Are you picking me up today? I have volleyball practice till four.”

“I plan to! I’ll text you.” She shut the door behind her and then locked it. I rubbed my face, dreading the walk alone. 

_____________

Fall was in the air, so I put on my best walking boots and layered my clothing: sports bra, tank top, long-sleeved shirt, and then my new puffy jacket with an adorable striped scarf wrapped around my neck. The hat I chose was a knit cap with a hole where my long ponytail could stick out the back. Such a clever design.

After locking up and hiding the door key in an obviously fake rock, I jogged to get down the road and not be late for first period. As much as I hated school, I didn’t want to get a late slip from the office and risk detention. I’d already had several strikes. And if you walked into Mr. Yeager’s classroom ten seconds past the late bell, he’d send you down to the office. He wouldn’t be missed after graduation.

When I rounded the corner onto Mount Tam Boulevard my heart beat faster. The road was slick from the drippings of fog that hung above the hillside, and the few speeding cars that drove towards me didn’t seem to care that I had to step off the berm into the bushes to avoid being hit. It wasn’t a heavily traveled road because of its windiness; most people drove the newly built Diablo Expressway to get to work and school. But people in this town always drove too fast, regardless of the path.

I stopped and looked at my phone; only thirty minutes left before the first bell rang. Then I heard her.

“Heeey Jenna!” I turned to the right and saw Sydney Landers slow down in her brand-new, cranberry-red Mazda Miata, waving at me and holding her middle finger up.

“Have fun hoofin’ it to school!” She yelled, her long brown hair blowing in the wind. Her car lurched forward and she sped off, heading towards the sharpest corner on the boulevard. I think I even heard her honk her horn, for emphasis.

What a bitch I thought. 

We used to be best friends, in middle school, until her dad got this high-powered job in the city and raked in the bucks. He threw money at her. She started hanging around other girls with money; those girls who wanted to go to the mall most days after school, shop for all the newest clothes, meet guys, spend money, and drink mocha frappuccinos until dinner. 

There was track team in middle school, and we ran the same relay. We’d volunteer with our moms on the weekends at the food bank. She’d have me over for dinner at least once a week when she knew I was home alone. But once she was dripping in money and hanging around the “it” crowd? Her empathy meter dropped and her world became all about selfish acts and greed. And now we share the first period at school. I miss her, a lot.

Suddenly, screeching brakes cut through the thick fog like a knife, and squealing tires split my eardrum, followed by a crunch that sounded like a huge tin can getting crushed by a giant’s foot. 

I knew that sound, and it wasn’t good. I grabbed both straps of my backpack so I could run faster. I came around the corner and saw Sydney’s car, crumpled at the hood and smashed together with the rear end of another car. The windshield was shattered and I could see Sydney’s hair matted against the deployed airbag. There was blood… and screaming…

Was that Sydney screaming or someone else? I ran towards her and jerked open the car door. She lifted her head, groaning. She had blood dripping down her face, onto her blouse, and a huge gash underneath her left eye. 

“Oh my God, Sydney!” I screamed. “Are you alright? What the hell happened?” I needed to get help. “I’m dialing 911,” I said, pulling out my phone. 

“No!” She mumbled, her head falling back against the seat and eyes rolling around, trying to focus. “Grab my phone…get it, Jenna…m- my phone.” 

“Sydney you need help!” I yelled. I looked down and saw Sydney’s phone, still in her hand. She lifted it, thrusting it towards me. “Take it. Bring it to my house.” 

“What are you talking about?” I asked. 

“Put it in… my room…they…they can’t know.”

Sirens were wailing far away but getting closer. Someone must’ve called.

“You hit another car, Sydney. This isn’t good. I hear people screaming. I need to get help for them too.”

“Jenna!” She said, with all her might. “TAKE the phone! I ca-can’t let the cops see it.” Sydney lolled her head to the left, tears rolling down her cheeks that mixed with the blood. It was a sight.

I’m not sure why I did it, but I took her phone and stuffed it in my backpack just as the cops rolled up on the accident. I said yes to her, without saying yes.

Firefighters and police officers swarmed the scene. 

Red lights flashing, 

police radios chattering, 

ambulances,  

gurneys, 

a small child being wheeled away into an ambulance, 

IV bags, 

a woman crying hysterically, 

EMTs and firefighters taking Sydney from the car, 

more ambulances arriving, 

the smell of car fluids wafting up from the ground…

It was all too much and starting to make me sick. 

Someone tapped me on the shoulder just as I was planning my escape. I turned around. It was a police officer. 

He was tall, at least six feet, and his shoulders looked like a linebacker. He wore a Smokey the Bear hat. “Hi there. Did you see the accident?” He asked. “Are you a witness?”

My legs felt numb and I could feel sweat starting to run down my side. “Uh, no, I didn’t actually see what happened. I just heard it happen. I was around the corner.”

He stared down at me, writing in his black leather-bound booklet as I talked. 

“Do you know the driver? I saw you talking with her.” 

More questions. 

“I have to get to school,” I said, putting my backpack on my back and staring up at him. “I can’t be late.”

“I’ll rephrase my question. Do you know the driver from school?”

I had to answer. “Yes, it’s Sydney Landers.”

“Do you know where she lives?”

“No. I haven’t been to her house. I just know her from school.” 

He wrote in his book. 

I lied. Why did I lie?

“Can I get your name?” He stopped writing and stared at me.

“Uh, yeah. Jenna. Jenna Pedersen. Is she going to be okay? Do you know where they’re taking her?”

“Nice to meet you, Jenna,” he said, smiling.“I’m not sure yet, and probably San Rafael Regional. It’s the closest trauma center.” He handed me the notebook and a pen. “Write your address down here for me, and a good phone number if we need to get ahold of you for any more questions.”

I wrote the information down, then turned and started running. I only had about ten minutes before the first bell. I was sure I could make it. It was only five more blocks.

Just as the late bell rang, I flung open the door to room 129, Mr. Yaeger’s room. Kids were standing around, chatting. Some were sitting on top of their desks, most standing around, talking and catching up. No Mister Yeager.

Teri Wen, Sydney’s current best friend, sitting with her back to me was talking to Trevor Frank. I sidled up. “Hey, Where’s Yeager?” 

She looked me up and down. “Dude,” she said. “Yeager left school for the hospital. The principal was just here. He’s finding us a sub.” I hated it when she called me dude. She did it all the time. 

“Is he sick?” I asked.

“No, dude. His wife and kid were just in a car accident.”

My face blanched and my stomach got nauseated. “Shit,” was all I could come up with. I looked at Trevor. “I gotta go—“

“Wait— do you know where Sydney—?”

“No, I really gotta go—“ 

Trevor was still yelling out questions as I left.

Running down the hall, I heard the principal’s voice around the corner, so I ditched into the girl’s bathroom until he passed. It was a miracle that I didn’t run into any adults on my way as I went down two hallways and through the quad, out the swinging doors to the front of the school. 

All I thought of was getting to the hospital or Sydney’s house. She’s changed, for sure, but we have history. She needs to know about Yaeger’s family before she finds out through social media or the rumor mill. I don’t think she’d do the same for me, but I couldn’t let her be alone for this.

I didn’t think she’d be home yet. Too soon. So I decided to go to the hospital. A block from school, I hopped on the local bus and rode to San Rafael Regional. The grace period was an hour until the office called my mom asking for an excuse for my absence. 

“Excuse me,” I said. A receptionist at the hospital’s front desk looked up. “Can you tell me which room Sydney Landers is in?” 

“Are you family?” 

“Yeah, I’m…her…her sister.” She nodded and clicked through her computer. 

“It looks like she’s on the med-surg floor. She just moved there. Take the elevator to the third floor. She’s in room 349.”

“Thank you.” 

I took the stairs. Barely cracking open the third-floor door, I saw the nurse’s station. Sydney’s parents were at the desk, talking with a doctor. Mrs. Landers looked like she’d been crying, her makeup smeared and her hair slightly tousled. Mr. Landers had his arm around her. They nodded and shook the doctor’s hand. They walked towards the elevator and pushed the button. I had to make my move.

The nurses were busy with a patient, so I quietly slipped down the hallway. Room 349 was at the end. I peeked in. The gash under her eye was sewn up, but under it was black and blue. She was asleep. 

Tiptoeing in, I whispered, “Syd?” The curtains were drawn but some light still peeked through. 

I crept a little closer to the bed. “Syd?” I said a little louder. 

She stirred and barely opened her eyes.

She looked around, then at me. “Jenna. What’re you doing here?” 

“I needed to talk to you.” I pulled a chair up next to her bed.

“Where’s my phone?”

“What? No ‘Gee Jenna, thanks for coming to see me’?”

“Where’s my phone, Jenna? Did you take it to my house?”

“Uh…no. I gave it to the police.” This lie was out of spite. 

She sat up, her face contorted… “Ah, shit!” She cried out. I thought she was pissed at me, but it looked more like she was in pain. She paused and took a deep breath. “What the hell Jenna,” she hissed. Okay, now she was pissed.

“Whatever was on your phone must be really incriminating, Sydney.” 

“I don’t want to do this with you, Jenna. Why the hell didn’t you bring me my phone? Or bring it to my house. Do the cops have it? Really?” Her eyes started to well up and she wiped away some tears.

“What did you tell the cops?” I asked. “Didn’t they ask you how the accident happened, why you crashed into that car?”

“I told them it was because of the fog; the car ahead of me suddenly appeared without warning. But now they’re gonna know. ”

“Oh Sydney, come on! It was a little foggy, but not so thick you couldn’t see!”

Sydney pulled at the ends of her hair, which she did when she was nervous. “Well, that’s what I came up with.”

“I hate to tell you this Syd, but the car you hit? It was Mr. Yeager’s wife and their kid. I found out from Teri when I got to school. He’s at the hospital with them now.”

Sydney turned white and she fell back onto the bed. She wept and turned away from me. I put my hand on her arm, and she yanked it away. 

“I’ll find out for you if she was hurt badly,” I said. “But Sydney, you need to come clean about what’s on your phone and what you were doing. You need to do the right thing.”

She put her hands over her eyes. “They’re going to look through my phone, I just know it. They’ll see the photos and texts.” Sydney looked at me, tears streaming down her face. “And to top it off! Yeager’s family is who I hit?”

“I kinda thought you were texting and driving,” I said. 

Sydney scoffed.

“I know we’ve all done it Syd! It’s so hard not to answer a text.”

Sydney looked at me, her breath sped up, and then…inconsolably crying. I stood up and side-hugged her, not quite knowing what to say. “You do-don’t understand J-Jenna…” she stuttered. “How can I show my face at school? Everyone will think I’m a s-slut.” She sobbed and I handed her a Kleenex. 

“A slut? What are you talking about?” I was so confused. “Who were you texting? What are you so scared of?”

In between sobs, Sydney spilled the whole story. Since the end of junior year, Sydney had been seeing Mr. Romano, or, to her, Eddy Romano, the freshman boy’s PE teacher. He’d been an acquaintance of her dad’s, and he’d come to the house a few times. It started as friendly flirting, but then it turned more serious. She knew it was wrong, but convinced herself that theirs was a real relationship. It was their secret, and holding this secret made her feel special. 

“Oh God, Sydney!” I cried. “What the hell?”

“See!” She said. “Exactly! That’s what everyone is going to say when they find out. I’ll be a pariah, a slut. No one will want to be my friend anymore.” I handed her another Kleenex and she blew her nose. “And he’ll probably be fired.”

“As he should be! He’s a predator!” I cried. “Listen, Sydney, you’re only seventeen! Romano’s probably, like, in his thirties or something!” I paced the room. “You’re a minor. He’s an adult and he needs to be held accountable.”

Sydney sniffed and squeezed her eyelids shut. “Ohhh…I know, but I’m so ashamed, Jenna! How could I let this happen?”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “He’s at fault, and you need to tell someone, please! Before he does this to someone else!” Sydney blinked, nodded and her breathing slowed. “And, yeah, we’ve had our problems in the past, but I’m here, and I’m still your friend. I’ll walk into school with you, beside you all the way.”

“Jenna,” she sobbed. “I-Ive been awful, to you..and—”

“Hey.” I squeezed her hand and nodded. “Will you please tell your parents?” I begged. “They need to know.”

“My parents are gonna be piiiisssed!” She said.

“I know, but they’ll be there for you. They’ll be way more pissed at Romano.”

“Okay, but the cops have my phone, so, they’ll—”

Mr. And Mrs. Landers walked through the door. They gasped when they saw me. “Jenna?” Mrs. Landers asked. “What are you doing here?” She smiled. “It’s so good to see you.” 

I gave them both a hug. “I needed to see Sydney,” I said. I grabbed my backpack and unzipped the front pocket. “I have to get back to school, but here—“ I handed them Sydney’s phone. “She has something she needs to talk to you about.”

I turned to Sydney, smiled, and gave her a thumbs-up. “You got this!” I said.  

I took the elevator down to the lobby and rode the bus back to school.

September 13, 2024 19:36

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3 comments

Louise Browne
18:37 Sep 20, 2024

Whoa. The story was incredible. It wasn’t going where I thought it would go. Very thought-provoking. Excellent writing.

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Sydney Nyberg
01:17 Sep 20, 2024

The pacing in this story is spot on. There are absolutely no lulls, and i was captivated from the first moment. I was particularly intrigued by how you handled the scene of the accident, stacking everything that was being seen and happening rather than listing it in the paragraph. That was a great way to convey the feeling of chaos and "unrealness." I do, however, feel like there's potential for a more complex "fog" analogy--only being able to see what's in front of her or being blinded. But over all, great read!

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Donna Sims
18:10 Sep 20, 2024

Sydney, thank you for the constructive feedback and positive comments! I agree with you about making more references to the fog analogy. I will work on revisions for the missed opportunity. You provided explicit feedback, which I truly appreciate! Donna

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