“Should we call nine-one-one?” I asked.
“No nine-one-one,” Olivia said, trying to sit up.
“You hit your head pretty good,” Austin said. “You should get it checked out.”
“I agree,” my mom said.
Ezra had joined the brothers, and the three of them helped Olivia up onto the bench.
“I just need to rest,” Olivia said.
“Actually,” Paisley said, her voice shaky. “You shouldn’t sleep. You might have a concussion. You should go to the doctor.”
Olivia reached out for Paisley, who rushed to her side and hugged her. “I’m fine, baby.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to get checked out,” Mom said.
“I see it’s six against one here,” she said. “Fine, Miranda, drive us to a hospital where we can park these things, I guess.”
Mom was already heading for the rental RV, which madesense because she was the only one who could drive that one aside from Olivia. She looked at Ezra as she reached the door. “Pack up the camp and meet us at UW. It’s closer than Seattle,” my mom spit out as if she had memorized the hospitals near each of our stops. Then I realized she probably had.
“I’m going to go with my mom,” Skyler said to me, helping her to her feet.
“Of course, yes, go.”
As he walked away, he didn’t look back.
All the Hutton kids ended up going, leaving Ezra and me standing by the picnic table, watching them leave. A huge lump had formed in my throat.
“Who knew she would be so upset that you and Skyler were kissing,” Ezra deadpanned.
“Don’t talk to me.” I started picking up a few odds and ends that needed to be put away before we left—two camping chairs, the tablecloth, the big bin of kitchen supplies.
“You seriously need to get over this,” he said, adding some things to the side storage as well.
“You need to get over yourself.” I was so angry about what he had done to me while in the same exact moment being scared about what was happening with Olivia. “You think she’ll be okay?”
“Who? Olivia?” he asked, shutting the side compartment and locking it into place.
I nodded.
“Yes, people fall all the time. She just got banged up a bit. The hike was harder than we all thought it would be. She was probably dehydrated or something.”
I don’t know why I asked him the question; his answer gave me zero assurance because he didn’t know what was actually going on. Would this accident push Olivia to tell her kids what was happening? And if so, how would they all take it?
I moved toward the door so we could leave.
“Do you want me to break up with her?” he asked, stopping me in my tracks.
“What?”
“Willow. Do you want me to end things?”
“Seriously?”
He kicked at a weed that had pushed its way through a patch of grass, like he was thinking about it.
I smacked his arm. “You’d hurt my best friend like that? You’re a horrible boyfriend.” I smacked him again.