Wrecked by Anna Davies

talk . . .” Eleanor trailed off, the subtext of her silence clear. The reason Miranda was being pushed so hard to go back to school wasn’t just for her well-being, it was to ensure that their family wouldn’t be whispered about in services at the Cavalry Church or during board meetings for the Whym Island historical society.
    “Besides, Dr. Dorn and I think you need to see your classmates. They all know it was an accident. It was an accident, darling,” Eleanor continued. Eleanor, too, wondered if it was possible that it happened on purpose. And if Eleanor thought that, that meant that everyone on Whym Island wondered why Miranda O’Rourke, the one who’d been driving the boat, had been one of the few to escape with only one injury. Of course, at the hospital, they’d done blood tests and had determined there had been no alcohol and no drugs in her system. That hadn’t stopped reporters from setting up camp outside the hospital, and outside the house when she’d come home. Roger had waved them away, but Miranda had heard the shouted questions: How does it feel to lose your friends? How’s your boyfriend? What do you remember about your rescue? The answers only led to more questions.
    “Don’t you think it would be better if you dressed up a little? Maybe put on some blush or some gloss? Lipstick always makes me feel better,” Eleanor fretted.
    “Hey!” Teddy emerged from the elevator, his lacrosse stickover his shoulder and a Clemson hat backward on his head. He smiled a gap-toothed smile. “I like your look,” he said, taking in Miranda’s haphazard outfit.
    “Thanks,” Miranda mumbled, turning away from Eleanor and heading toward the kitchen, her rust-colored school satchel banging against her bad leg. It felt right somehow, to wear sweats to school. Everyone was going to be staring at her anyway, so why try to look like it was just another day? Maybe she’d show up looking so pathetic, that they’d send her home. She could hope, at least.
    “I’ve got it,” Teddy said as he grabbed the bag from her and slung it over his shoulder.
    “Finally, you came down for breakfast like a good girl!” Louisa exclaimed, beaming from behind the four-range stove in the center of the kitchen.
    “I don’t need breakfast,” Miranda snapped. She felt out of shape and skinny, all at the same time. Eating required energy, and everything sat like a lump in her stomach.
    She’d lost over fifteen pounds in the past month and she knew her collarbones and ribs stuck out in a way that made her look sick. But she didn’t care. It seemed like she shouldn’t want to eat, or sleep, or do anything besides think of the accident. When she did, she felt pangs of guilt throughout her entire body. She liked feeling hungry, and tired, and aching. She should feel bad. “And I’m fine, Grandma. I just need to do this my way.”
    “Do you need me to come?” Eleanor asked, frowning. “I spoke to Headmistress Wyar and she knows to expect you, but if you think it’d be easier if I accompanied you . . .”
    Miranda shook her head. “I can do it,” she said firmly.
    “I’ll drive,” Teddy offered as he opened up the Sub-Zero freezer and pulled out an entire box of frozen toaster tarts.
    “I don’t care,” Miranda shrugged.
    He tore open the package with his teeth and ran out of the house. Miranda gave Louisa a what can you do? shrug and followed Teddy to the garage, where his forest green BMW, a gift for his sixteenth birthday, was parked. Teddy’s sixteenth birthday had been two weeks ago, just days after Miranda had been discharged from the hospital and the day after Genevieve’s funeral. Teddy had told Eleanor again and again that he didn’t want anything, but Eleanor had insisted. The three of them had had a nearly silent dinner at the long oak table in the dining room, and Miranda couldn’t help but wish she was at Genevieve’s memorial—anything would be better than sitting here, pretending nothing was wrong.