Returning home was difficult. My parents' presence felt oppressive, and even Angela seemed more sensitive when it came to me. I would lie, telling them I was fine, but it didn't soothe their worry. It wasn't enjoyable and seemed only to worsen as Isaac began to follow their lead, treating me much more nicely than usual. I had an inkling that Angela or Dad had mentioned what had happened.
This treatment only made me feel suffocated and bothered by their constant need to handle me like porcelain. I wasn't fragile, and I didn't want to be treated that way. While it did feel somewhat good to have my parents' attention, I didn't want them scrutinizing me more closely than they already did. I had a feeling that if they did, they would start noticing my instant avoidance of any surface that could reflect my appearance. I wasn't vain, but I did like checking how I looked or popping the occasional pimple. However, Angela had noticed. Had she told our parents? I suspected she hadn't mentioned it yet, but I knew it was only a matter of days until she did.
'She's probably waiting to gather more proof before bringing it up,' I thought, eyeing the suspect at hand.
Angela's hair was straightened and slicked back into a sleek ponytail, while my hair was down and messy from waking up late and not having time to comb through it. We had never looked so alike until today. Since I had misplaced mine, I was wearing her dark red raincoat over a white long-sleeve tee and black leggings tucked into gray wool socks and matching rain boots. Angela's outfit was neater and more fitting for school, while I looked lazy and ready to binge-watch movies. She had taken on the role of designated driver to school since I had been hesitant to grab the keys.
"You're doing it again," she mumbled, pulling into the parking lot. I blinked a few times, realizing I had zoned out, my eyes fixed on the car's dashboard.
"I didn't notice," I responded, rubbing my eyes.
Angela parked near Bella's truck, where Bella was already out, studying the chains on her tires. Once Angela fully parked, she turned to face me, the keys resting on her lap.
I sighed, noticing the determined look on her face. "I'm fine," I groaned.
Angela furrowed her eyebrows, clearly annoyed with my usual go-to response. "You're not okay, and you know it," she said firmly, laying her hands on my shoulders and forcing me to make eye contact.
"You keep telling Mom and Dad you're fine, but I see everything. We share everything. I know you're not fine. If you want to keep it to yourself, that's fine, but what's not fine is lying to yourself."
I felt terrible, genuinely bad, but being called out like this wasn't Angela's usual approach. It was my way. I preferred that she not push the topic and let it go. At this moment, in the car, I felt like our roles had switched. Angela was, by definition, the elder twin. She was born first, but everyone assumed I was because of how we were. Angela was soft-spoken, introverted, and obedient. On the other hand, I was also introverted but blunt and sometimes harsh. We were similar but different, and at that second, I began to see her as my older sister.
I knew I should have relented and told her how I felt, but I was scared. I didn't want to admit it in fear that everything I had dreamt would come back to haunt me, and I didn't think—no, I knew—I wasn't strong enough to go through that. I never claimed I would be. 'Never.' I promised myself as I just glared at her.
"Don't you think you're being a hypocrite?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I couldn't take them back, no matter how much I wanted to. Angela winced, letting go of me as quickly as she had grabbed me, as if my words had burned her hands.
"I heard Mom on the phone talking about you," I continued, seeing her avoid my gaze. She was feeling bad, and right there, watching Ang struggle to respond or give any indication of an excuse, should have made me keep my mouth shut. But again, I knew myself too well—I wasn't like Angela. Although we were similar, I tended to be horrible. It was an ugly habit where I needed to have the last word and ensure the other party was too hurt to respond.
"She was talking to Tia Julia. She mentioned you were having nightmares too," I accused her. Angela's lips went thin. She looked like she was struggling to say something to ease my anger but also to win this dumb argument. We both knew it wouldn't happen; she always gave in and never bothered arguing—she was too mature for it.
"You talk about not lying to yourself, but you've been lying too, right? You've been having nightmares and never mentioned it to me." My voice trembled with the hurt I tried to hide.
It stung, whether it was my ego or the thought that Angela didn't trust me enough to confide in me. She gave me a dirty look, her eyes darkening. The soft features that usually displayed her kind smile hardened into a cold mask. She looked hell-bent, which was exactly what I wanted. Wasn't it? I wanted her to be just as upset as I was.
"I know you're acting like a brat because you think I'm criticizing you for lying, but I'm not—wasn't. I," she paused, looking away from me and grabbing her backpack from the back seat. When she finally met my gaze again, her face softened, as if she was preventing herself from blowing up on me.
"I was trying to tell you. You don't have to lie because I understand, but you're so angry. Why? Because we care?" Her voice softened, the harshness disappearing from her tone. With her backpack on her lap and one hand on the door handle, she gave me one last look, her eyes no longer cold but filled with pity. Angela rubbed my shoulder, making me wince and look away from her out of regret and guilt.
"You know, all the attention you're getting from one nightmare—I wish I got that."
I turned my head quickly to bite back a retort but didn't get the chance. Angela was already out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Noticing the keys she left on the driver's seat, I had half a mind to leave them there to spite her. But I didn't want to be locked out and stuck at school any longer than necessary. I grabbed the stupid keys that seemed to mock my defeat.
As I sat there, her words sank in, the pang of guilt I felt tripling as I realized I had taken for granted the attention I had assumed Angela always got. 'Didn't she?' I thought to myself.
'I should apologize,' lingered in my mind as I got ready to leave the car, but the anger bubbling inside wouldn't allow me to. I did my best not to show how her kind behavior made me feel horrible and undeserving of the attention I was getting when Angela wasn't and clearly would have appreciated it.
I had always assumed she received unconditional attention from our parents, as they loved to compare me to her any chance they got. However, hearing her words, I began to realize I might have been too self-absorbed to actually pay attention to my own sister. I sighed, knowing I was acting out of fear and that I deserved to be told off by Angela. Yet, her sympathy and understanding weren't what I expected.
I anticipated anger—to give me a reason to be upset—but instead, she made me feel even worse. I bit my tongue, deciding I needed to cool down. It was too early in the morning to throw a tantrum. '
Be the bigger person,' as Dad always said when we got into it. I tiredly exited the car and headed towards Bella.
'A distraction is definitely what I need,' I thought, trying to pick myself up before my attitude got the best of me. Bella raised an eyebrow, questioning my sulking mood. Her dark hair was down, and she sported her brown jacket. I pursed my lips, contemplating whether to inform her of my nightmare and the argument I just had.
"Tough morning?" she teased. I rolled my eyes, deciding to keep it to myself.
"Pretty much," I sighed, leaning against her truck and watching her observe the Cullen family. I turned my gaze from her to them, spotting Edward's gloomy look, which piqued my interest.
"Any news about Edward?" I asked. Bella reluctantly moved her gaze from Edward to me. She nibbled on her bottom lip, a fidgeting habit I was starting to notice she did.
"He apologized." I was surprised but also wasn't.
"He probably heard about his nasty behavior affecting you," I muttered. Bella gave me a questioning look, as if to clarify.
I used my finger and twirled it to emphasize the entire school. "Small town, word spreads fast. Remember?" She blushed, nodding in agreement or embarrassment. I wasn't too sure.
"You—" Before Bella could finish her sentence, our attention snapped toward the screech of a car.
My eyes widened in horror as I watched Tyler's van careening out of control, heading straight for us. The disbelief and panic began to seep through my veins, freezing me in place as Tyler desperately tried to regain control of the vehicle. His efforts were futile; the icy ground had turned the parking lot into a skating rink. A heavy feeling settled in my gut as a prickling sensation spread across my scalp, signaling impending doom.
Bella's grip on my shoulder tightened, her fingers digging in as we both braced for impact. We had no time to move, no chance of escape. The van skidded faster, its tires screeching as it barreled toward us.
In that moment, I found myself hating Tyler, a person I'd never interacted with before today. The intensity of my fear transformed into a searing anger. As the van hurtled closer, the thought of dying in such a violent manner filled me with dread.
I had always imagined death as something that would come quietly, in my sleep, at a much older age. This chaotic end was far from comforting.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my head pounding with a blinding pain. Time seemed to stretch infinitely, each second feeling like an eternity. Then, the impact came—a deafening crash as Tyler's van collided with the rear of Bella's Chevy. My eyes flew open at the sound, but the scene before me was incomprehensible. My legs buckled beneath me, and I found myself staring at the passenger door of Tyler's van, which had rebounded and was now hurtling toward my face.
I shut my eyes again, the pain in my head intensifying to an unbearable level. Just as quickly, the pressure seemed to release, leaving me reeling. A surge of adrenaline or fear caused my head to snap back, slamming against Bella's truck with a force that made me see stars.
I groaned, the new pain mingling with the old, creating a symphony of agony. I pulled my knees up to my chest, covering my face with my arms, praying to walk away unscathed. The seconds dragged on, each one a nightmare as screams and cries filled the air. I was paralyzed, unable to move even when cold hands gently touched my head, pulling my arms away from my face.
"You're okay," a deep, calm voice reassured me.
It wasn't Bella's or Tyler's—Tyler was still apologizing profusely somewhere nearby. The voice was a soothing presence amidst the chaos. I blinked, struggling to open my eyes against the harsh light. The brightness was too much to bear, so I kept them closed, trying to block out the pain and confusion.
"Ellie!" Angela's shrill scream pierced through the chaos, causing me to wince in pain. I had never heard her yell like that before.
"Ellie!" she called again, her voice filled with desperation.
I tried to open my eyes to reassure her, but the light was too bright, and my head throbbed with pain.
"Bella! Eleanor! Are you guys okay?"
"Bella!"
"Eleanor, oh my gosh!"
The cacophony of students' screams and questions overwhelmed me, heightening my already sensitive senses. I could feel the cold, wet gravel beneath me as I sat with my knees tucked under my chin, grounding me in the present chaos.
'Great,' I thought bitterly, 'my ass is wet, and everyone is going to see.' The embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by the realization that someone had called for an ambulance.
"Ellie, there you are," Angela's voice, now sobbing, broke through the noise.
Her hands were soothingly cold as she gently touched my head, tilting it like Mom used to do to check for injuries. Despite our earlier spat, the near-death experience had forged an unspoken truce between us.
"Are you hurt? Can you open your eyes?" Angela's hands wrapped around my waist and arm, helping me up from my wet seat. I could feel the cold leggings clinging to my butt, amplifying my discomfort.
"I'm—" I stopped myself. Lying would only upset her again, and I couldn't afford another argument, especially not with her preventing me from collapsing.
"I think I slammed my head pretty hard against Bella's truck." I paused, realizing I was mostly okay, but then a chilling thought struck me.
"How's Bella?" I asked faintly, fear piercing through me at the possibility that she might not have been as lucky.
"She's okay, I think," Angela replied, her focus entirely on me. "I'm sorry I was too focused on you to check on her."
Relief washed over me at the thought of Bella being safe, but I felt utterly drained. Was it the adrenaline leaving my body or the shock of almost dying? I wasn't sure, but I told Angela I needed to sit down or I would vomit. The surreal nature of the near-crash lingered in my mind. As Angela helped me to my feet, her gentle hands checked the back of my head for injuries. Finding nothing, she pulled me into a tight hug. We rarely hugged unless we were scared or had been apart for a long time. Leaning my head on her shoulder, I hugged her back.
"I thought you both were crushed or—" Her sentence faded as more voices filled the scene, and the world around me dissolved into unconsciousness.