Lulu decided she needed to go for a drive to clear her head. Usually she walked, but she didn't want to chance running into anyone and having to talk. Her feelings were conflicted and she needed to think, not to talk to people who didn't understand, or who wanted to tell her to stay away from all the guys in her life.
There were three main guys. Logan was violent, but hadn't turned out to be the killer. She had put him in a coma for nothing. That thought led her to think of Spinelli, her best friend. He had suspected Logan and Lulu hadn't wanted to believe him. She had gone to Logan's apartment to try to prove Spinelli wrong and it had backfired on her; she found evidence that supported Spinelli and Maxie's theory. But Logan had said he had only wanted to set up Johnny to make him look like the killer and it hadn't mattered to him whether or not Johnny actually had been the guy who had been terrorizing Port Charles for months. Johnny was in the mob, but he was so much more. Logan was more than he appeared to be, too.
But there was nothing hidden under Spinelli's charm and sweetness. But Spinelli had caused her to put Logan in a coma. A voice in Lulu's head, a voice that sounded exactly, annoyingly, like Maxie, screamed at her that she knew that wasn't fair. Spinelli had been trying to protect her, as always. Lulu had been the one to make the choice to try to prove him wrong and had found what she didn't want to find. She had gone over to his apartment two weeks ago, not Spinelli. She had hit him, not Spinelli. She pushed the voice away. She wasn't ready to take full responsibility for her own actions yet; she needed to blame someone, even her best friend, or she would panic at the thought of becoming like her catatonic mother.
The driver of the car in front of her honked the horn. She looked up, finally brought out of her thoughts, and saw a flash of light and a car coming toward her, trying to stop, hitting the breaks. Lulu did the same, too late. The cars collided and she lost consciousness due to head trauma resulting from the crash.
The other driver, a businessman passing through Port Charles on his way home from a meeting, suffered minor injuries, but was more concerned for the girl in the other car. She was unconscious and her head was bleeding. He called the paramedics and police immediately and waited with her, speaking to her, trying to wake her up. The poor girl was still unconscious when the paramedics took her to the hospital. He felt horrible. He knew there was nothing he could have done; she had obviously not been paying attention, but he still felt guilty. Her driver's license identified her as Leslie Lu Spencer, but one of the cops was her brother and had called her Lulu. The man hoped she made it.
"You're free to go," the other cop told him. "This was clearly an accident, Sir. There won't be any charges against you."
He left, feeling guilty and shaken. His car barely had a scratch on it and he was only cut and bruised. The success of his meeting was now buried by his worry for the young girl in the other car, who didn't look to him as if she could live through the night.