Chapter 21

As the last song of the dance died out, Lola was caught completely off-guard as George planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. He smiled at her. "I'll see you Monday," he said before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Lola swayed on the spot, temporarily stunned, happiness flowing through her. When she came to her senses, she had only one thought: I've got to tell Em!

Still a little bit dazed, she dodged other students on the dance floor, still revolving silently to their own personal music. Where did she go?

"Hey, Ari!" Lola called over the heads of several students making their ways to the exit. Ari, who'd been among them, turned at the sound of her name.

"Hey, what's up? I saw you and George out there, you looked like you were having a pretty good time!" Ari exclaimed with a wink.

"Oh my gosh, I had the best time with him, you have no idea! He's so sweet, I can't believe I never really noticed him before! I mean, he's—"

"—Very hot?" Ari interjected.

Lola nodded, her eyes sparkling. "And he kissed me good-night!" she squealed.

"What? Shut up, where?"

Lola pointed to the now-sacred spot on her cheek. "I am flipping out. Have you seen Emily? I need to tell her!"

"You mean she doesn't know yet? How is that possible, the two of you are like—"

"Inseparable? Yeah, but I haven't seen her since I started dancing with George, actually."

"Sorry, I haven't seen her either," Ari said. "I have to go, but if I see her on my way out I'll tell her you're looking for her, okay?"

"That'd be great, thanks," Lola said before turning back into the fast-emptying gym. She scanned the stragglers, growing more confused and slightly annoyed. Where did she go? Could she have left already? If I don't tell her everything soon I am going to burst!

Struck with an idea, Lola headed toward the bathroom.

She wouldn't be in the one in the hall though, it's too far out of the way, I'd have seen her leave! Lola hesitated. Oh well, you never know.

As Lola entered the deserted hallway outside the gym, for a fleeting moment she considered going back. There was no one in this part of the school, and surely Emily wouldn't have had to pee this desperately? Nevertheless, she proceeded to the bathroom, the heels of her shoes clacking loudly on the floor.

When she pushed the door open, her foot connected with something small, and she caught sight of a tube of lipstick skidding across the tiles. Then her eye caught something bright—dress fabric that she would have recognized anywhere. With a terrifying jolt, she instantly recognized the person lying unconscious, sprawled across the floor.

"Oh my God, Emily!"

Ray sat at the desk in the ER, eyes glazing over the charts that he had spread in front of him. He stifled a yawn. I've got to get out of here, he thought tiredly.

"Barnett!"

Ray jerked his head up, out of his stupor. The authoritarian voice, it couldn't be—

"Dr. Weaver! What are you doing down here in our humble abode?" Ray asked, attempting a false cheeriness that clashed with the darkness under his eyes.

"I was about to ask you that, your shift ended an hour ago."

"Charting," Ray answered, failing to hide his next yawn.

"Well in that case, you can take the next trauma that just came over the radio. Teenage girl, found unconscious."

"But Dr. Weaver—I really should get going," Ray attempted a lame protest.

"No buts, Barnett. Pratt's late, so this one's yours. ETA's three minutes."

"Fine," Ray grumbled as he pushed his charts aside and walked out toward the ambulance bay. "Sam, can you join me on this next trauma?" he called as he passed her in the hall.

"Sure, what are you still doing here, Ray?" Sam asked as he joined him.

"Not leaving, apparently," he answered as they stood outside in the cold night air, listening as ambulance sirens grew stronger. Lights flashed as it came into view from around the corner.

Ray listened as a paramedic jumped out of the back. "Teenage girl, approximately 16 years old, found unconscious at a school dance. Vitals are steady, but weak…"

The rest of the paramedic's report was drowned out by the pounding, rushing sound in his head as the patient was rolled out of the ambulance on a stretcher. With a sickening feeling, he recognized first her dress, then her hair. Her face was obscured by a breathing mask, but there was no question.

It was Emily.