When the spewing stopped, I asked, ‘Did I hit my head at the party?’

‘No,’ Jamie said. ‘You hit the deck playing basketball. Your head smashed into the court and you were knocked out cold.’

I wished Jamie would shut up. His voice hurt my head even more, and so did his explanation.

And then I remembered: ‘Where’s Mum?’

‘We haven’t heard from her yet, Phoebe, but Caitlin is on her way,’ Lydia explained in a soothing voice.

‘Caitlin?’ I repeated, confused.

‘Yes. Good thing the basketball association had your emergency contacts listed. Caitlin will be here soon,’ Lydia said.

‘She’s in New Zealand,’ I said, dry-retching as another bolt of agony shot through my head.

‘She’s on her way, Phoebe, don’t worry.’

That was easier said than done.

‘Mum,’ I cried like a baby, feeling so much pain. And that pain doubled with the worry for Mum. Where was she?

When I eventually settled down, the nurse handed me some water and something like heavy-duty Panadol. ‘Take these, Phoebe, it’ll help,’ he said.

I finished spewing, lay back on the pillow and tried to wish the pain away while also swirling in an understanding of the world of shit that I was in.

With Mum not making the basketball game, I knew that Dad would find out about her losing her licence. I started to wonder if I’d died and landed in hell.

The nurse told me I wasn’t allowed to drift off to sleep until I’d answered a few questions and she’d checked me over because I might have a concussion.

At some point, I started to feel better. Seeing this, Lydia asked, ‘Where’s your mum?’

‘Maybe she’s stuck at work.’

‘Suzy was here earlier and when she called your dad, he said that your mum was supposed to be at the game.’

‘I’m sure she’s on her way,’ I lied.

‘Phoebe, the game was last night,’ Jamie told me, I felt like screaming but the thought of it started to kill my head again. ‘We’ve been trying to call your mum.’

‘How did you get my dad’s number?’ I finally asked.

‘The association had both of your parents listed in your emergency contacts.’

Oh, that’s right, they’d already told me that. ‘What did he say?’ I said, panicking.

Lydia patted my hand. ‘He’s worried about you, Phoebe, and he’ll be with you as soon as he can. The nurses have contacted him to let him know you’re conscious.’

I looked at Jamie, wishing he wasn’t there with me. It was all too embarrassing. Why did he always have to see my shame?