An hour later, I was still sitting in the same chair, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee that tasted like it had been brewed during the Clinton administration. The snow outside had stopped, and the waiting room was almost empty now, save for the distant hum of the vending machine.
Then I saw her, Mrs. Crowley.
She looked exhausted, her makeup faintly smudged, her eyes red but determined. The kind of look only a mother could have after spending a morning terrified for her child.
When she spotted me, she came over right away.
"Mike, right?" she asked, voice trembling with leftover adrenaline.
I stood up quickly. "Yes, ma'am. Mrs. Crowley, I…"
"Please," she interrupted softly, a tired smile tugging at her lips. "Just Beth. 'Mrs. Crowley' makes me feel ancient."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Right. Beth."
She nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "The nurses said you've been here since this morning."
"Yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "I just… wanted to make sure he was okay."
Her eyes glistened a little. "That means a lot. You're a good friend, Mike. Thank you for being here when he needed it."
The words hit harder than they should've. I managed a small, awkward smile, but inside, guilt twisted like a knife.
Good friend?
If I'd just stayed out of it, Tyler wouldn't be in a hospital bed right now with a metal rod in his leg.
"Really," she said again, her voice softer now. "You don't know how much this means to me."
'You have no idea,' I wanted to say. 'I'm the reason he's here.'
But instead, I swallowed hard. "I'm just glad he's okay."
Before I could say more, a nurse appeared at the doorway. "Mrs. Crowley? Your son's awake. You can come see him now."
Beth turned back to me with a look of relief so raw it almost hurt to see. "I'll be right back, okay?"
"Of course," I said, forcing a smile. "Tell him I'll be here."
She nodded and followed the nurse down the hall, her steps quick but unsteady.
I sat back down, elbows on my knees, staring at the faint reflection of the waiting room lights on the linoleum floor, the faint beeping of machines down the hall filled the silence. I tried not to imagine the crash, the metal twisting, the sound of glass, the way the van had slammed into the truck, it hit too close to home, wasn't that exactly how I'd died?
I had proved I could change things.
But at what cost?
Ten minutes later, Beth returned, looking relieved. "He's asking for you."
I stood so fast the chair squeaked against the floor. "Really?"
She smiled, this time with genuine warmth. "Really. Go on, he's in room 208. Don't stay too long, he's still a bit groggy."
"Thanks, Mrs… uh, Beth."
"Better," she said with a small laugh, waving me toward the hallway.
…
Room 208 smelled faintly of disinfectant and the sterile coolness of a hospital. Tyler lay in bed, one arm in a cast, his leg raised and wrapped in layers of white plaster and gauze. He looked pale, a few bruises coloring his cheek, but when he saw me, he managed a weak grin.
"Dude," he croaked, voice rough but full of life. "You look like crap."
I laughed, even if it came out a little strained. "You should see yourself."
"Fair," he said, smiling tiredly. "The nurse told me you waited all day. You didn't have to do that."
"Yeah, well, someone's gotta make sure you don't start flirting with the nurses," I joked, pulling a chair closer to his bed.
He chuckled, then winced, clutching his side. "Don't make me laugh, man, it hurts."
"Sorry," I said, then hesitated. "You… scared me, Tyler. I thought… well, I thought it could've been worse."
"Yeah," he said softly. "Guess I got lucky. Thanks, by the way. I was told you pulled Bella out of the way. You saved me from becoming a killer… and now that I think of it, you also saved my life, Charlie would have definitely killed me if I hurt his daughter."
I offered a weak chuckle at his try at humour, but the words made my stomach twist. I forced a shrug. "Just reacted, you know? Instinct."
"Well, it was a good instinct," he said with a grin. "Thanks, man. Seriously."
I nodded, smiling faintly but unable to meet his eyes.
If he only knew.
"Tell you what," I said after a pause, trying to keep my voice light, "once they let you out, I'll drive you around for a bit, yeah? Until you're back on your feet."
Tyler raised an eyebrow. "You? Volunteering as my chauffeur? That's a first."
I smirked. "Don't get used to it. I'm only doing it 'cause I feel bad you'll have to sit out the next few basketball games."
"Yeah, yeah," he said, laughing softly. "You'll miss me."
I didn't trust myself to answer that.
Instead, I just smiled and said, "Get some rest, man. I'll see you tomorrow."
As I left the room, the guilt followed me like a shadow.
Every choice, every change, it all had consequences.
And I was starting to wonder how many more people might get hurt before I learned that lesson.
…
By the next morning, the snow had mostly turned to slush. The air was sharp and wet, carrying that heavy scent of thawing ice. Mike parked in his usual spot, careful not to skid on the half-frozen lot. Students were already trickling in, bundled in layers, breath fogging as they complained about the weather.
He felt drained, barely having slept after the long day at the hospital, followed by a night plagued by nightmares. The image of Tyler in that hospital bed, pale and broken, kept replaying behind his eyes. Every time he blinked, guilt crawled back up his throat.
When he stepped out of his car, he froze.
Edward Cullen was standing a few spaces away, leaning against his sleek silver Volvo. The vampire's golden eyes were fixed on him, cold and piercing, as if he already knew everything that was going through his mind.
Mike's stomach sank.
'Right. Mind reader.'
Edward's eyes widened slightly when he heard that thought and Mike tensed, doing his best to look calm. Edward didn't move, didn't blink, just stared, too still, too focused. Mike felt like a frog under a magnifying glass.
And then, instinctively, he panicked.
'Okay, think of something else. Think of anything else.'
His brain scrambled, then latched onto a random image.
A gray cat with a Pop-Tart body flying through space, trailing a rainbow.
'NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN!'
He blasted it in his head like a mental fire alarm.
Edward blinked once, his brow furrowing slightly, as if trying to process what kind of chaos he was hearing.
Mike doubled down. Louder. Faster. The cat looped endlessly through his thoughts.
Edward's expression flickered from confusion to mild horror, and then to complete bewilderment. He turned away sharply, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "What even…?" before stalking toward the main building.
Mike exhaled, grinning despite himself.
'Take that, sparkles.'
He headed to class, still exhausted, still guilty, but at least amused.
Later that day, during lunch, he noticed something strange.
Across the cafeteria, Edward wasn't sitting at the Cullens' table, instead he was sitting with Bella a few tables away. And Bella, who looked a bit shy but curious, was actually talking to him with a smile on her face.
Mike frowned.
He remembered the story, Edward was supposed to avoid her after the accident, keeping his distance because of how close he'd come to exposing himself.
'Right, that didn't happen, I changed it myself…'
So Edward had no reason to stay away from her. No reason to fight his curiosity.
Mike stared at them, a knot tightening in his chest, wondering what else had been changed by his actions.
…