Chapter 22: Hold On to Me

Phillip's POV

I had watched Hallie run at a wrecked car once, in a parking lot, with her hair in her face and smoke pouring off my hood.

She had dragged me out of it, a boy who had spent seven years making her cry.

I was not going to do less for her.

The silver car came off the drive at forty miles an hour with its headlights in my eyes.

I did not run at it. I ran alongside it, on the passenger side, with the gravel flying out from under my shoes.

My father's face turned. I saw his mouth open in the glass.

He swerved toward me.

I threw myself sideways and felt the mirror clip my hip. Pain went through my leg, and I did not stop.

I got my fingers around the passenger handle.

It was unlocked. He had never locked a door in his life, because he had never had to.

I pulled it open and let the car drag me three yards across the gravel.

Then I hauled myself in headfirst.

"Get out!" my father screamed.

"No."

"Phillip, get out of my car!"

The car was still accelerating. The steps and the crowd and the white faces were rushing sideways across the windshield.

I could see Hallie at the foot of the stairs in her gold dress. I could see my mother on her knees in the gravel.

I could see the fountain, dead ahead.

My father floored it.

He was not steering to miss anything. He was steering at the steps, and he was crying.

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