Read Out of Order for Free Online Page B

“Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”
    “I told you, I’m okay.” We were out of Sparky’s; a police officer held the door for us. Another was unrolling a yellow line of police tape:
     
    DO NOT CROSS POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS POLICE LINE DO NOT
     
    The male paramedic helped me into the back of the ambulance. “You’re not okay, you’re in shock,” he informed me calmly, climbing in behind me and forcing me to sit down. “Do you feel faint? Cold?”
    “Yeah.” I wrapped myself a little tighter in the blanket. My hands felt numb, and my lower lip was shaking. “I guess.”
    “The police are going to question you once we get you to the hospital and get you cleared,” the paramedic said. “So steel yourself. It’s going to suck major balls.” I managed to quirk my lips up in half a smile before they fell again.
    The female paramedic appeared and got into the ambulance across from me. The doors were closed, the driver signaled, and we were off.
    “We’ll call your mom when we get to the hospital,” the female paramedic said. The ambulance rocked a little. They didn’t have the sirens on. I wasn’t enough of an emergency.
    “Who’s going to call Kate and Jessa and Ricky’s parents?” I asked, shooting the woman a glare. Hair color aside, she was nothing like Ricky. I would have done anything to wrap my arms around Ricky or Kate or Jessa right about then.
    “The police will take care of all that stuff,” the male paramedic said in what was probably supposed to be soothing but instead sounded condescending.
    “I know their parents. I should be the one to call. Do you have a phone? I had Ricky’s but I left it in the bathroom.” I held out a hand and looked between the startled paramedics. “I need to call them, okay? They know me. They’d want to hear it from someone they—from someone who—my friends are not statistics!”
    “Of course not,” the male paramedic cut in quickly. He glanced at his colleague. “I’m sure the police will handle everything with the level of sensitivity this kind of situation requires.”
    “They deserve to know now . Right now, they think their children are alive, and they’re not , okay? I need to call them, okay? I need to!”
    “She’s hyperventilating.”
    “Panic attack? Treat for shock.”
    “Corinna, look at me. I’m going to put this oxygen mask on your face, okay? Don’t fight me, it’ll help you. Okay? Okay.”
    My fingers tightened in my shock blanket, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

February 23rd
     
     
    “S HE WON ’ T come out of the closet,” Ricky said plaintively, wobbling her lower lip at me. “My poor, poor, lesbian pussy… cat.”
    I rolled my eyes and got down on my hands and knees. “First of all, it’s not a closet, it’s a cupboard. Second of all, ha-ha very funny.”
    “I thought so.”
    “Of course you did.” I peered into the space under the O’Briens’ bathroom sink. All I could see of the cat was a pair of unblinking yellow eyes. She was buried all the way in the back, between stacks of fluffy towels.
    “I bet it’s warm under there,” I sighed, rubbing my bare arms. There was gooseflesh under my fingertips; I felt jealous of the cat.
    The renovations to the house meant the whole place was perpetually freezing. No wonder the cat took shelter under the sink. The hot water wasn’t disconnected, and she had a snug, warm place to wait out the scary sounds of power drills and handsaws and hammering.
    “We’re not supposed to be here for the next couple of days,” Ricky shouted over one of the aforementioned scary sounds. (For a cat. I wasn’t scared of a saw or a drill.) “She can’t stay under there while we’re gone!”
    “Hold your horses, I’ll get her out. Here, kitty,” I said, making smooching noises with my mouth. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
    “I tried that!” Ricky said, exasperated. “I thought you were, like, the cat whisperer.”
    “They just usually