What did she do to deserve this? What happened? Everything was going so well then everything changed. Within a matter of seconds, my life was upside down. So, here’s the story where it all began.

The summer before we started high school, Lola and I were walking down the street to our local convenience store. It was the hottest day of the summer. Lola was the smart and cute type of girl with long brown hair. She had these super nerdy glasses. I can still remember that day so vividly. She was wearing her black converse with her worn-out skinny jeans and her favorite light purple shirt. She was singing “All We Know” very out of tune. “I’ll ride my bike up the road/Down the streets right through the city/I’ll go everywhere you go…”

Lola and I were not perfect teenagers, we did some bad things, but we were trying. Over the summer we went to Jordan Anderson’s party. Everyone was drinking and smoking. We thought we were cool and joined in on the fun, but someone took a video of us and sent it to our parents. We got into a lot of trouble and made a pact to live the rest of our lives playing by the rules. This was the first day we were allowed to hang out after our incident.

We walked side by side, hand in hand. When a car ran up onto the sidewalk and left Lola laying on the ground. I was lucky to be only left with a couple of scratches, Lola on the other hand was not so lucky. I could see the blood pouring out of her body and she was in a critical condition. I ran the rest of the way to the store so I could use their phone and call 9-1-1. Once the ambulance arrived at the scene, they rushed her to the hospital. The police asked me several questions that day. It all had happened so fast; I could barely remember a thing. I was still shaken up. The only question I could answer was what color the car was. It was red.

I stayed with Lola overnight, she was in a coma. The sound of all the machines was intoxicating. I couldn’t sleep. The next morning the nurses woke me up and they started doing tests. I went home to take a shower and the next thing I knew Mrs. Smith, Lola’s mother, was calling our house phone. I answered and Lola had passed away shortly after I had left.

The next week was rough, I had nightmares every time I closed my eyes. I would see her mangled body, and that red car over and over again. Mr. and Mrs. Smith held a nice ceremony for Lola’s passing. They gave me a necklace, a locket with our pictures on it. It is the only thing I have left of her.

The school was starting back soon, and I had no idea what I was going to do without my girlfriend. We were supposed to be high school freshmen, we were on our way to getting our license, we were going to get jobs together, and we were going to graduate together. Now, there’s not a chance of any of this happening. “Who knows what’s going to happen?” I sigh to myself.

It was August third, meaning it was the first day of school. I woke up early that morning and threw on some black skinny jeans, a tight-fitted black t-shirt, and my black sneakers. I ate a piece of toast for breakfast to keep my mom happy before I left. I walked to school that day. The pressure of riding the bus was unbearable, plus it was only about a fifteen-minute walk.

In the third period, I met Dahlia. She was a Junior and new to our school. I instantly knew we were going to be friends. She had dark hair and brown eyes. And, she loved the Chainsmokers. We ate lunch together, and she told me a little about herself. “I’m from Franklin, it's about two towns over. I moved here back in May right after school ended.”
The next day, I meet her in the library before homeroom and we decide that we are going to skip the third period and come back right after lunch. When the bell rings for the third period we meet in the student parking lot and walk to her car together. She has an older, red, Chevrolet Cobalt. We ride down the road with the windows down and the radio blasting “All We Know.” I have to hold back my tears and I choke up when I scream the lyrics, “ “I’ll ride my bike up the road/Down the streets right through the city/I’ll go everywhere you go…”

Dahlia notices my mood change and asks if I am alright, to which I respond with a nod of my head. We don’t talk much on the ride back to school. The next day, I have to stay home from school. I always thought that would be Lola and I riding around. I stayed in my room the whole day. The walls were grey and I could see the rain pouring down out my window. I stayed in there the whole weekend, only coming out to shower Sunday night before I went to bed. I couldn’t sleep because every time I closed my eyes I would get flashbacks from the accident. It is almost as if I’m reliving it in slow motion. I wake up the next morning, after tossing and turning all night and barely getting any sleep. I meet Dahlia in our usual spot in the library. She looks at me empathetically and asks, “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright,” I say staring down at my shoes.

She hugs me. “Don’t lie to me. I want to help.”

I break down crying and tell her all about Lola. We talked all the way until the bell rang for homeroom, by then I calmed down and waited for lunch till I would be able to talk to Dahlia again.

For lunch, we had mini corn dogs and mac ‘n cheese. We talked more about Lola. And I told her all I wanted to do was catch the girl in the red car.

That night, I dreamt of Lola. She whispered, “You don’t have to look hard. The answer is right in front of you.”

I woke up petrified. I didn’t understand. I dreamt of her for the next several nights. In each dream, Lola dropped little hints trying to help me solve the hit and run. I gathered that the car was driven by a young woman, who was wearing cat-eye sunglasses and red lipstick.

I tried to meet Dahlia the next morning in school to tell her about what has been going on, but she wasn’t in the library. She must have ditched the first two periods. She was in the third period wearing a dress and she did her makeup, even bright red lipstick. It was definitely a new look for her, but she looked really nice. We talked at lunch about what she had been up to lately, and then she gave me a ride home from school. We listened to the radio on low and chatted when she pulled her cat-eye sunglasses out of the compartment and put them on. I was in shock, could she have been the one that ran over Lola? We got to my house really fast and I hopped out of her car and when she pulled out of my driveway I noticed the small dent in her driver’s door.

There was no doubt in my mind now that Dahlia was the one that ran over Lola on our walk that horrible day. I can’t believe she fled the scene like that and didn’t even check to see if we were okay. I didn’t go to school for several days after this realization. I couldn’t face her. I asked myself, “ How could you get so close to Lola’s killer? What do I do? Do I tell her I know? Do I turn her into the police?”

I think about this the whole night and the next day when I return to school, the air is cooler. It’s the middle of September. I go into the library and Dahlia is already there. I grab her by the arm and lead her to where no one can hear us and I ask, “Were you the one that ran over Lola?”

She looks down and quietly answers, “This is not how I wanted you to find out. It was an accident. I was new in town and I didn't know the roads that well and I looked down for half a second. I was scared of getting into trouble so I ran.”