Speed of Life by J.M. Kelly

phone’s out again,” Gil tells me. “Can you drive?”
    â€œI don’t know . . . I guess.” He lost his license years ago for drunk driving, and Mom’s never bothered to get one. It’s gonna have to be me. I pull on some jeans and a sweater over my uniform shirt, which I’m still wearing from Saturday. “But how’re we gonna get her to the car?”
    â€œYour friend’s here,” he says.
    â€œMy friend?”
    â€œThat skinny guy with the death T-shirts?”
    â€œHan? What’s he doing here?”
    â€œHe stopped by ’cause you weren’t in school.”
    Han helps us half carry, half drag Amber to the car. By the time we get her in the front seat, I’m doubled over with dizziness, and we have to wait until things stop spinning.
    â€œMaybe I should drive?” Han suggests.
    â€œYou know how?”
    He looks at me funny. “I drive the van all the time.”
    I’d totally forgotten he works with his father doing plumbing jobs. I’m not really thinking clearly. Besides, the world’s spinning again. “I guess you better,” I say, which proves how sick I am. No one’s allowed to drive the Mustang except me.
    Han takes us to the walk-in clinic, but when he goes in and asks for someone to help carry Amber inside, they send us to the emergency room at the hospital. On the way there, I remember Natalie.
    â€œWhere is she?”
    â€œGil’s watching her.”
    â€œIs she sick?”
    â€œShe’s okay, so far. That’s why I was hanging out at your house. I knew you guys couldn’t take care of her.”
    â€œYou were babysitting?”
    He shrugs. “I guess.”
    Han leaves me in the car in the emergency turnaround and goes inside. Pain is beating in my head like a heartbeat. The next thing I know, they’ve got Amber on a stretcher and I hear the whoosh of the doors and she disappears. A minute later, someone comes out with a wheelchair for me.
    I shake my head, immediately regretting it as my brains slosh around painfully. “I’m okay.”
    â€œThe guy said you’re both sick.”
    â€œI’m not. I mean, I am, but—” I try to stand, and then the ground’s coming up to meet me fast, but someone catches me and sits me down in the wheelchair. The next bit is a blur. Eventually I’m lying in a bed with bright lights shining down from the ceiling, and a doctor is standing over me asking what kind of drugs me and Amber have been doing.
    â€œWe have the flu,” I say. “Or something. A guy at work had it . . .”
    A while later, I’m hooked up to a drip, and I’m actually starting to feel a bit better. “Your brother’s here to see you,” a nurse says, and Han steps into my little curtained-off area.
    He’s already visited Amber and tells me she’s going to be okay, but she’s super dehydrated from throwing up so much. “That’s what’s wrong with me, too,” I say.
    â€œI know.”
    He stays with me for a while and then goes to see Amber again. Later, they tell me I can go home, but to drink lots of fluids and only eat soup until my stomach calms down. They’re keeping Amber overnight. I don’t want to leave her, but they tell me I have to. Finally, I agree to go if I can see her first. They’ve moved her to a shared room, and they let Han wheel me there.
    â€œTwo minutes,” the nurse reminds me.
    Amber looks pale, which is better than flushed. She smiles, tells me it sucks that she has to stay and I get to go, and asks me to thank Han, who’s waiting in the hallway. “Is Nat okay?”
    â€œI think so. She’s at home with Gil, but Han says she doesn’t seem sick.”
    â€œThank God.” I sit there in my wheelchair, holding Amber’s hand. “I thought I was gonna die,” she says.
    â€œMe too.” I don’t tell her about