“Thank you for coming in, Ms. Pollard.  We’ll get back to you when we reach a decision…”

She shook the woman’s hand, walking out of the conference room, down the hall, and out of the district office. She carried a black leather folder that belonged to her father, with a notepad and copies of her resume. 

She walked to her car, a gold 2000 Chrysler Concorde, opening the door before slumping into the driver’s seat.  She pulled her cell phone out of her dress slacks pocket.

“Hey,” the voice said on the other end.  “How did it go?”

“The usual.  'Thanks for coming in, we’ll let you know…' Except they never do.  I’ve had 15 interviews since summer started, and not one second interview or job offer.  I’m running out of my emergency fund, which I’m lucky I had any to begin with… Paying off student loans, insurance, rent, it all adds up on a teacher’s salary. We’re in a teacher shortage, and I STILL can’t get a job. Every year or two I get pink slipped; budget cuts or they can’t guarantee a case load…”

“You’re general ed anyway, you’d have had to get a whole other credential just to keep going, and you only took that job cuz no one else was offering…”

“I know. I mean, is there something I’m doing wrong in the interview process that I’m not good enough for even desperate schools?  I’m seriously running out of money to cover gas, let alone rent and stuff…”

“Jenna, you’ve got this. Something will come up.”

“Can you sell blood? I’m getting desperate… I wish I could afford bills working retail.  Maybe get two retail jobs…”

“Jenna, come home,” the female voice said. “We’ll get pizza and drink some wine, ok?”

“Thanks, Kelly.”

“Oh, one more thing…”

“What?”

“Blast *NSYNC on your way home. They always make you feel better.”

“Bye, Kelly.  See you soon.”

Jenna hung up the phone, leaving the parking lot and driving home. She had an older car but a newer stereo, playing her Spotify playlist through Bluetooth.  The music was helping, but she couldn’t get the stress of her situation out of her head.

I’ve always had great reviews and things, the kids like me, parents like me, what am I doing wrong in the interviews?  Every year or two it’s like this.  At least before I was living with my parents.  Shit, if I don’t get a job soon I’ll have to move out. I can’t afford to live with Kelly, mooch a free room.  I always feel confident when I’m in the interviews, Dad has looked over my resumes, I just don’t get it.

The stress of everything was making her want to cry, getting the beginnings of a headache.  She grabbed her water bottle from the center console, taking a sip. She was sure the room she’d been in had AC, but she couldn’t feel it at the time, only when she stepped outside to feel the warm August heat.  The fact that she hadn’t gotten a headache earlier surprised her. She always got headaches doing IEPs in the school office, not having AC in the room they used.  That mixed with pressure to do well and the heat of summer was a perfect storm.

An uneasiness came over her.  She felt off, like things were getting fuzzy in her head. Suddenly, her vision became clouded, doing her best to pull over.  There was no time, as she turned the steering wheel, she lost the ability to step on the brake, driving without control before things went dark.

…

He was driving back from a meeting with his manager, a new project to work on. Not that it mattered. Most everything he did lately had the opposite effect they wanted. Instead of a song being a hit, it was another flop. Something he got credited for writing or producing, but it was never a hit. Not like they used to be. 

Am I too hard on myself? he wondered.  I’m over 45, I’m not the young, cool artist to work with anymore.  I get more buzz when I log onto social media and like a post from one of the guys than when an artist I work with has a new song out.  But that’s just fans, I should expect that. It’s nice that they’ll support me when they see I’m hyping a new artist or something, but it’s not what it used to be. Not that I need things to be like back in the day…

He was on autopilot on his way home when something caught his eye. A gold colored car was veering right. At first he thought it was pulling over, then the turn went sharper, not stopping, going over the curb and into bushes before hitting a cement pillar around a light pole in a parking lot. 

He was a couple car lengths behind the car, just the two of them on that side of the road.  He immediately pulled over, flashing on his emergency hazards, jumping out of the car. 

He rushed to the driver’s side door, finding it locked. The car was still in gear, the driver slumped in her seat.  He grabbed his phone. 

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I have a woman slumped at the wheel of her car, it ran into a light in the parking lot.  I can’t open the door to see if she’s ok…”

“May I have your location?”

“Wilshire and Barry, in front of the 7 Eleven and Baskin Robbins.”

“Are you safe, sir?”

“Yes, I was behind her and saw it happen. I thought she might be pulling over, then the turn went sharper before she went up the curb and sidewalk.”

“Ok. The police will need you to stay as you were a witness.  Emergency response is on their way.”

He could hear sirens getting closer, seeing a fire truck round the corner into view.  It pulled up on the wrong side of the road, firemen rushing out to respond to the woman.  The woman was breathing, he heard them say, but nonresponsive.  The car was already totaled, and they needed to cut her out to get her out in case she wouldn’t wake up.

Police and an ambulance came, police getting a statement on what he saw.  They cleared him to go, but he needed to make sure she was ok.  They were able to get her out of the car, the woman barely conscious.  He heard the police call for a tow truck to take her car, police beginning to take any personal items out of her car.

“I can take those,” he offered.

“Are you family or anything?”

“No,” he sighed.  

“We’ll take it with us to the hospital, but thank you.”

He stayed back, letting them get her into the gurney and into the ambulance. He walked to his car, giving the ambulance some space.  He got in, following behind at a distance.  He saw the ambulance unload her into the ER, himself deciding to grab an iced coffee and come back later. 

For all I know, I’m the only person that they can link her to. What if they can’t find someone to contact? SOMEONE needs to know she’s ok…

He returned to the hospital a short while later, hoping he could even see her.  He approached the desk at the ER.

“Hi, ummm, there was a woman brought in a while ago, she was unconscious and crashed her car… I want to make sure she’s ok.”

The nurse on the other side of the desk blushed, knowing full well who he was.  “That’s very sweet of you. How do you know her?”

“I don’t, actually. I saw the accident she was involved in. I wanna make sure someone knows if she’s ok or not.”

“She’s still under observation and undergoing some tests.  You’re free to wait in here, or I can find you somewhere more private…”

“Recognize me, do you?”

“Yeah.  Technically I shouldn’t be allowing you to see her, but given you’re being such a Good Samaritan, I couldn’t let that go unnoticed.”

“Is she conscious?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have the doctor talk to you once they know more. I’ll say you’re her boyfriend, that’ll be enough to let you see her.”

“Don’t say that too loudly, the last thing I need is someone overhearing misinformation.”

“If anyone asks, tell them that. I’m ok with you checking on her, but others might not.  You’ll need to be someone she’s close to in order to see her.”

He nodded, understanding the rules she was breaking for him.  He didn’t fully understand it himself, feeling compelled to make sure she was ok, a complete stranger.  But here he was, in an emergency room waiting room ready to pretend to be her boyfriend so he could see her.

His phone rang.  “Babe, where are you?  I thought you’d be home by now. I’m glad you picked up, I was starting to worry…”

“I’m at the hospital…”