People stand around, some trying to help, others just gawking at the horror before them. I hear Brooke’s voice over the crowd. “Get down,” she yells. I know she’s screaming at me, but I can’t listen. Not now.
I kick out what’s left of the broken glass and slide into the passenger’s seat beside my bleeding boyfriend. Blood trickles down his face and his eyes are barely open, but he’s alive. He may be in worlds of pain, but he’s ok for now.
I dive across and try my hardest to release his seatbelt, but it’s jammed. “I need a knife,” I yell to anyone who’ll listen. My impatience gets the best of me and I scramble around on the hood for a broken piece of glass. “Don’t be stupid,” Aaron says before thrusting a pocket knife in my face.
I hastily grab it from him and work on getting Nate out of here. “Tora?” Nate questions shakily as I try to tear the knife through the fabric of the seat belt. “How bad is it?”
“Bad,” I tell him, not wanting to sugar coat it. “Where are you hurting?”
“Fucking everywhere,” he groans.
My eyes rake up and down his body for the hundredth time in the last thirty seconds and confirm that apart from the massive gash to his head and all the cuts and bruises, everything else miraculously seems to be ok. No broken bones or glass shards piercing anything. I’m sure there’s probably something hidden beneath the surface, but so far, he’s one hell of a lucky bastard. “Hold on,” I tell him. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
“Is anyone hurt?” he questions with another groan as he tries to get himself out.
“Shhhhh,” I say, pushing him back into the chair. “Don’t move.”
“Tora?” he demands with a pained cringe.
“I don’t know,” I tell him as I get the seatbelt free. “I wouldn’t be surprised. There were a lot of people over here.”
“Shit,” he sighs.
I rip the seat belt off his body and look up to see how Jesse is coming along with the door. All the boys are still working their asses off and getting absolutely nowhere. “We’re going to have to go through the windshield,” Maxen says.
“Fuck,” Jesse says as he looks in to me. “How’re his legs? Is anything holding him down?”
I’ve already checked, but I check again anyway. “No, you’re good to pull him out.”
“What about his neck?” Puck demands.
“It’s fine. We need to get him out,” I tell them, demanding that they hurry their asses up.
Jesse and Max climb up on the hood as Brooke and Courtney work on getting everyone to move away and give us some space. Brylee demands a few people give up their hoodies and lay them down on the grass to make somewhere safe for Nate to lay.
The hood screams under the weight of the boys and I realize they’re going to have to do this fast. They lean down and try to stay out of the way as they each grab an arm. They pull hard, trying to lift his heavy frame out, but the steering wheel is in the way.
I do my best to help maneuver him around all the obstacles and get his legs out from under the dashboard. They pull him up through the windshield and I pray there are no glass shards left to scrape against his stomach.
He groans out as the guys get him up and help pass him down to Tyson and Puck on the ground. Jesse hops down after them while Maxen comes back and offers me a hand to help haul me up out of the car.
I take it greedily before scrambling down by Nate’s side, to find him telling everyone to fuck off and leave him alone. “For fuck’s sake, Nate,” I yell at him. “Would you just lay down for two minutes so we can check you over? You could have internal bleeding or a fucking spinal injury for all we know.”
“I’m fine,” he tells me. “A little whiplash and a cut on my head.”
The second the words come out, my eyes flick back up to the blood oozing from the gash in his hairline and I search around for something to use to hold against it. I look up at Jesse. “Shirt,” I demand. His eyebrows pull down before realizing what I’m asking for. He throws it at me a moment later and I press it against Nate’s head, hoping the blood will slow soon.
“You’re drowsy as shit,” Jesse grunts as he kneels down on Nate’s other side.
“You would be too,” Nate snaps.
“Just, shut up and let us check you out first,” Max says from Nate’s feet. “Then we can work out how the fuck we’re going to make this right.”
Nate nods and goes quiet as he looks over my shoulder and focuses all his attention on his mangled car. His attitude slips away and my heart shatters for him.