Please let them be okay.
The night my parents died, Luca and I were at our house. We still lived at home, grateful that we could save on rent while we were in college. Gather was just an idea at that point, a weekend hobby for Luca. He was up trying a new smoothie recipe when the phone rang. Back then, it was a landline. Luca answered. Luca had to tell me. Luca got me dressed. Luca drove us to the hospital.
Luca saved me.
We both grieved, but I took it harder, and he looked after me.
I cry harder, pulling the soft material of my sweater to my face and wiping the tears away. The idea of losing everyone—of losing my best friend the same day as losing Anderson—
It is unfathomable.
“Hey,” Nathan says, startling me. “The front door was wide open.”
I stand up, grabbing a tissue from my nightstand. I blow my nose, and then he pulls me into a hug.
“They’re alive,” he says, and I start to cry harder out of relief. “I just found out. They’re at a hospital out in Santa Barbara.”
I nod. “Let’s go.”
It’sa quiet two hours in the car with Nathan. No music, no talking. Just the sound of the rain on the windshield, and the wipers clearing the water away every couple of seconds. I wonder if I should call Annika, but I don’t have her number. She’s his only family.
I find myself asking the universe to take care of Luca and Anderson with every beat—and the whole ride, I think,please be okay please be okay please be okay.Over and over.
Nathan gets a call from one of their mutual friends. Apparently, it’s all over the news. Nathan turns on the radio, and fresh tears spring to my eyes.
There was a plane crash in a remote area of the Santa Ynez valley today. Both passengers are said to have been taken to the Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital. We will have more updates later.
Nathan jams his finger against the power button, his jaw set. I feel exactly the same way—please keep talking. Please keep updating.
He turns off the freeway, and we find the hospital easily. My heart races as we walk inside, and Nathan jogs up to the front desk.
“My boyfriend—he was in a plane crash,” Nathan huffs, his cheeks red and tear-stained.
“One second,” the nurse answers, giving us both a sympathetic look. She calls someone and walks away—presumably so we don’t hear her conversation. She nods once, and then she turns to face us, her face solemn. Hanging up the phone, she sighs.
“They’re both in surgery. You can wait here or in the waiting room on the third floor.”
“Are they okay?” I blurt, my voice choked up.
Her lips form a thin line. “I can’t disclose that. I’m so sorry,” she adds, her voice soft and warm.
Her bad news voice.
I thank her and we head up to the third floor, where they direct us to a surgical waiting room. I pace for what feels like hours, when in fact it’s only a few minutes. Nathan sits and stares at a wall. I want to hug him—to commiserate with him—but I find myself wandering away. Ineedto know that they’re okay. Fresh tears fall onto my cheek and I wipe them away angrily. This whole thing—the waiting, the pause—is so inhumane. We had to wait with my parents, too. Had to wait while they tried to resuscitate them, tried to bring their tattered, broken bodies back to life. Had to wait for three doctors to walk out. To tell us our parents were gone. It wasn’t this hospital, but did it really matter? They were all the fucking same.
I clench my fists as the clock ticks, each second feeling like an eternity. Luca never saw my text because he was hurt. The things we take for granted…
My breathing hitches, and I sit down. I put my head between my knees as I hyperventilate. Nathan rubs my back, but it doesn’t really make me feel better, except for the fact that he’s my connection to my twin brother. If Luca dies, I will have lost my entire family. And if Anderson dies, the future I’m just now beginning to envision disappears forever. Is that what I want? A life with him? I lift my head up and instantly stop crying.
He has to be okay, because now that I’ve tasted what it could be like—the heated arguments, the passionate sex, the tender cuddles, the domineering attitude, the banter…
I stand again, and my heart rate speeds up. I told him last night. I said I was falling for him in a completely vulnerable, inebriated state. My guards—the walls I’d built up for years—had come crashing down. And I’d admitted it. I was either stupid for saying something so soon, or…
I don’t want to think of the alternative—that maybe those were my last words to him.
A doctor pushes through the door, and I look at Nathan, ushering him over. Nathan’s face pales as the doctor approaches us. We’re the only ones here. I swallow the sob that wants to escape, tamp down the fear, and grip the side of my sweater to keep my hands from violently shaking.
“I was informed that you’re the family of Luca Rossi and Anderson Møllen,” she states, her voice solemn.
