Three days slipped by like nothing special, just the usual grind of Lincoln High pulling Darren along. Monday bled into Tuesday, then Wednesday classes droning on about history dates he memorized easy, math equations that felt like warm-ups for real orbital calcs, and science where Mr. Thompson still dodged his rocket questions with that tired smile.
"Stick to the syllabus, Hayes," he would say, and Darren would nod but scribble space stuff in the margins anyway. Bruises from Brock were mostly gone, just faint shadows under his shirt, and Kayla had smiled at him in the hall once, which made his stomach flip like a bad drone landing.
Mornings started the same,Mom waking him with coffee smells, Emily yapping about cartoons, quick breakfast before the bus. He would text Alex and Lisa in the group chat jokes about homework, plans for another drone tweak maybe this weekend. School felt routine, safe. Alex sat next to him in English, passing notes about robot competitions,Lisa in bio, sharing gummy bears and eye-rolls at the teacher's frog dissection demo.
By lunch on Wednesday, the cafeteria was its usual trays clattering, fries smelling greasy, kids yelling over tables. Darren grabbed a burger and chocolate milk, spotting Alex and Lisa already at their corner spot by the windows. Overlooking the parking lot where rain clouds were gatherin' gray.
"Yo, space cadet," Alex greeted, mouth full of pizza slice. His curly hair sticking up like he'd shocked it with a battery again.
"Heard Brock got detention for skipping practice. Karma, man."
Lisa slid over, making room. She had her ponytail tight, salad in front of her 'cause she was "watchin' carbs" or whatever.
"Yeah, and Kayla was asking about you in gym. Said sorry again about the fight. You gonna ask her out or what?"
Darren felt his face heat up, poking at his fries.
"Maybe. If I don't chicken out. She's cool and talked about Air Force stuff last time."
Alex laughed, spraying crumbs. "Dude, you're gonna launch into a date like a rocket. 'Hey Kayla, wanna calculate escape velocity together?'"
They cracked up, the three of then easy banter that made school bearable. Lisa told about her dog's vet visit, Alex ranted on a new circuit board he ordered online. Darren shared garage stories from Saturday, how Dad showed him the guts of that Chevy.
"Torque's like thrust, y'know? Twistin' force to get movin'."
"See? Even cars are space prep," Lisa teased.
Lunch bell rang too soon, afternoons a blur: gym dodgeball where Darren sucked but laughed, study hall sneak-reading an astronomy mag. Final bell, freedom. Alex fist-bumped him by lockers.
"Text later,drone batters charged?"
"You bet." Darren slung his backpack, heading out into the drizzlin' rain that'd started. The bus stop was crowded, kids umbrellas popping like mushrooms. He scrolled through the phone for space news, an article on asteroid mining. Grinned thinking of Dad's pride if he ever made NASA.
The phone buzzed in his hand, an unknown number at first but then Mom's voice cracked through when he answered.
"Darren? Honey, oh God..."
His stomach dropped. The rain picked up, soakin' his hoodie. "Mom? What's wrong?"
"It's your dad. Accident at work— in the city, big job for that construction company he moonlights for. Somethin' with machinery... he's hurt bad. Hospital now. St. Mary's in Billings."
Darren froze on the sidewalk, kids pushin' past. Billings? An hour away, where Dad went for side gigs fixing heavy equipment.
"What happened? Is he okay?"
"They're stabilizin' him. Crushed leg, head knock don't know full yet. Emily and I are here. Come quick, bus or something.Address: 123 Main, emergency wing."
She hung up abruptly, voice shaking.Darren's eyes stung already, world tilting. Dad,strong Mike Hayes, taught him wrenches just days ago. Accident? Rain pounded now, but he ran backpack bouncing, shoes splashing puddles. Bus stop to town center, lungs burning. Mind raced: What if worse? What if...
Caught the intercity bus just as doors hissed shut, paying with crumpled bills from his pocket. Sat in back, staring out the window as Montana blurred fields turnin' to highway, rain smearing glass. Tears came quiet, wiping them furious. Texted Alex and Lisa quickly: Dad hospital accident. Going now. Pray or whatever.
Shit man, I'm sorry. Keep us posted. Need ride or anything? Alex replied
Oh no Darren. Hugs. He'll be tough like you. Lisa added.
Ignored rest, phone on silent. The hour felt eternal, stopping in traffic, wipers slapping rhythmic. Memories flooded: Dad setting up telescope when he was ten, teachin' bike rides, garage laughs. "Proud of ya, son." What if last time?
Bus lurched to a stop in Billings, big city lights fuzzy in a storm. Darren bolted out, running again,streets slick, cars honking, tears mixed with rain. The hospital loomed, white building with ambulance bays flashing red. Burst through ER doors, panting, dripping on tile.
"Nurse! My dad Mike Hayes? Accident?" desk lady looked up sympathetic, checking computer.
"Room 212, ICU wing. Family?"
"Yeah mom's there." She buzzed him through, corridors sterile smelling of bleach and fear. Elevators too slow he thought in his mind, took stairs two at a time, heart hammering. Signs pointed, finally 212 door ajar, beeps and whispers inside.
Pushed in, breath catching. Dad on the bed, tubes everywhere, oxygen mask fogging with breaths. Leg in a temp cast, bandages on head, eyes closed pale like a ghost. Mom stood by, face streaked tears, holding Emily who was crying silent into her side. Linda turned, saw him, pulled into a huge hug fierce.
"Darren... oh honey."
"What happened?" he choked, staring at Dad. Machines beeped steady but ominous.
Mom wiped eyes. "Crane malfunctioned at the site, pinned him against a truck. Leg crushed, concussion, internal bleeding they said. Surgery soon. He's stable, but..."
Emily looked up, small voice. "Daddy's sleeping, Will he wake?"
The doctor entered then, clipboard in hand, a tall guy with kind but tired eyes.
"Family of Mike Hayes? I'm Dr. Patel. He's sedated now, prepping for OR. Compound fracture, lacerations, possible rib cracks. Lucky the crew got him out quickly, no spinal, brain scan clear so far."
Darren nodded numb, holding Mom's hand. Sat by bed, watching Dad's chest rise and fall under a mask. Rain pattered windows, storm matchin' inside. Hours waiting nurses in out, coffee from vending that tasted like mud. Emily fell asleep on chairs, Mom praying quietly.
Darren's mind wandered dark: Life fragile like a drone crash. Dad teaching gears Saturday, now strapped to machines. What if he didn't make it? The family shattered. His dreams,NASA, stars felt distant, selfish.
Alex texted asking for updates,You there? News?
"Yeah. Surgery now. Scary"Darren replied
"Thinking of you. Strong fam". Lisa added.
Midnight crept, doctor back. "Out of surgery. Leg pinned with rods— he'll walk again, but rehab long. Wake up soon."
Relief flooded, tears fresh. Mom hugged Doc, Emily stirring. Darren leaned over bed as Dad's eyes fluttered later, mask off now.
"Kiddo..." weak voice.
"I'm here, Dad. Rest."
Mike managed a smile. "Garage... still need to tune that tractor?"
Darren laughed through sobs. "Yeah. Teach me more when I get home."
Nurses shooed them eventually, promising updates. Hotel nearby for night, but Darren couldn't sleep, staring at the ceiling, thinking how one moment changes all. Dad's accident was like a meteor strike, unexpected.
Morning came gray, back to hospital. Dad better, joking faintly about "upgrading to bionic leg." The family held vigil, bonds tighter in crisis.
School called an excused absence. Friends blew up the phone with support. But Darren knew: Prioritize now. Dreams waited, family first.
Weeks rehab ahead, but hope sparked. Like fixing a busted engi
ne, patience, tools, time.
Stars outside the hospital window twinkled indifferently, but closer now, grounded.