Chapter 60 Nellie
Nellie
Blood. There was so much blood and that horrible smacking sound when Blair hit the tip of the canoe.
I was sitting on the shore, in the grass, chain-smoking, on the far side of the old boathouse when it happened. I wanted to be away from everyone else.
I got there first, like an hour before the others.
I couldn’t stand to be at home one second longer, couldn’t stand Mom’s prying, her eyes smeared with black liner from the night before, drilling into me. The endless questions. Then Dad at the breakfast table. The sight of him disgusted me. I had to get the fuck out of there.
A little while before it happened, Luke pulled up, then came down and sat with me for a sec. I couldn’t help it; I was still hurt, so I gave him the cold shoulder, would barely look at him.
Then, when Jane came down the hill, he gave up, walked away from me.
Next thing I knew, Blair was climbing the ladder, mounting the roof, ass shimmying before she dove.
And then her hideous scream and that god-awful sound that I can’t stop hearing.
I didn’t actually see it happen; I couldn’t from where I was sitting, but I think the canoe drifted out from the boathouse just as she was diving, and she dove right into the metal tip.
The force of her diving must’ve pushed the canoe out because after her scream, that’s what I saw: the canoe wading out into the middle of the river with Blair left behind to sink in the water.
And the blood.
So much blood clouding the water.
I immediately got up from the shore, dove in. I’m a serious swimmer, so I moved as fast and as hard as I could to get to her. Tommy was frozen but screaming for someone to run to the club and call 911.
By the time I reached Blair, others were behind me, then surrounding us.
She wasn’t moving, and the blood was oozing out of her; we dragged her gently to the shore so she wouldn’t drown.
We were all scared to move her. They say in the movies not to do that, and her chest was rising and falling, so she was at least breathing.
Next thing I knew, the ambulance was there, covering her in blankets, taking her vitals. Asking questions. That’s how I heard that her head had cracked against the tip of the canoe, causing the gash that bled through their bandages.
Then the police arrived—I guess that’s standard—and started asking us all more questions, scribbling our answers down in their notepads.
Tommy couldn’t stop crying, and Luke looked he was going to be sick.
I couldn’t read Jane’s face. She still had those stupid sunglasses on, but since Blair’s her best friend or whatever, I figure she’s as freaked out as everyone.
Now I’m home, shaking, freezing cold because I’m still wet from the river, still have my suit on, and I’m standing under the blasting AC as mom drills with me with her interrogation.
Now she’s racing around the room, tossing shit into her bag, snatching the keys off the counter.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To the hospital!”
“Want me to come—”
“No!” she snaps, which makes me flinch. “You need to just stay right here. Do not move!”