I smiled as you touched my hand. You must’ve seen me blush; I could feel it. Your teeth were so white that day. They looked whitened professionally, but I know it’s natural.

I’m so busy looking at your smile, your hand… I don’t notice that the light has turned green. The car in back of us beeps and you turn around to see a soccer mom in a mini-van. I pressed the gas.

“Hailey, Look out!” You scream. I hit the brakes, but it’s too late. The person turning right chrashes into the right side of the car—the side you’re sitting on.

“Sam! Sam!” I scream, but no sound comes out. There’s blood on the ground, and I reach over to turn you up side right.

I hear you groan, and I try to lean over, but I can’t move.

“What the hell just happened?” I hear the other driver say. Then, darkness.