Chapter 2

744 24 5
                                    

There was no telling how long I had been asleep in that chair, but when I woke up it felt like the worst hangover of my life. My eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the light of the waiting room and I let out a groan immediately. Thankfully the other few people sitting nearby didn’t seem to notice.

       I hated hospitals. The longer I sat in the seat, the more I thought about how many other asses sat in it before mine. Then I started to think about where those asses had been. But I’d woken up with a mission and I wasn’t going to let the potential filthiness of the seat deter me. I needed to see Jason—he hated hospitals even more than I did. A frown crossed my face. He didn’t deserve to even be here.

       The floor was empty, save for a few incompetent-looking interns that I passed on my way down the hall. I reached Jason’s room and hesitated in the doorway. Thankfully, there was no one else visiting him right now. I glanced around double-checking for his mom and thanking God when I didn’t see her—I really wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

       “Jace?” I approached the bed and realized he was sleeping. I smiled and watched him, and slipped my hand into his free one. He looked so fragile, and I was almost afraid to touch him. I didn’t know how much pain he was in, but I was furious that he was in any at all. It wasn’t fair. A little sleep-smile appeared on his face and I couldn’t help but grin.

       My attention roved down to the cast on his arm, which was already covered with graffiti. He was loved, that was for sure. Some of these people I didn’t even know, but I found Trey, Lena and Katrina’s signatures right away. I frowned—I couldn’t find mine. Had I seriously not signed his cast yet?! I immediately searched my pockets to find them empty. I reached for my bag only to realize that I didn’t have that, either. I had nothing—where the fuck was my head when I left the house this morning? Groan. My head was such a mess that I couldn’t even remember leaving the house this morning.

       “I’ll sign it as soon as I get my hands on a Sharpie. Even if I have to white-out Brianna Savage’s garbage to do so.” I whispered. He didn’t move and I sighed, worried. He usually wakes up as soon as I open my big mouth. Even though I knew it was most likely the pain medication, he looked sick and my nerves kicked up. And there was nothing I could do to help. Jason was pale, and the scrapes and bruises made him look so helpless.

       I cursed the jackass who had landed him in the hospital. Whoever hit us better pray that I never find out his name. I grabbed a little stuffed “Get Well” bear from the windowsill and tucked it into the crook of his arm. Emotions were getting the better of me—it seemed much heavier than it looked. I leaned down and kissed his cheek.

       “I love you.” Whoever did this to him was in trouble when I got my hands on them. In the hallway, the Nurses’ Station was nearly empty except for one nurse, and a bored-looking cop standing against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. Perfect, just who I needed!

       “Excuse me, Officer? I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the accident that my boyfriend and I were in last night?”

       The cop stood there. He didn’t even look at me. Rude.

       “Sir? I was just curious if any arrests have been made, or if you could tell me what happened to the people in the car that hit us?” I asked, and was met with more silence. The man in blue stared off down the hallway, idly watching any movement from his post.

       I felt my eyebrow rise and I leaned across the counter to the blonde woman sitting behind the desk. “Hi, can you help me?” She ignored me and kept leafing through her magazine. My phony smile was running out of patience and slipped right off my face. “Hey. I need some help over here.” No response. I frowned and snapped my fingers in front of her face. She waved her hand like she was brushing away a fly and said nothing; she didn’t even look at me. I slammed my hand on the counter and stormed off.

Back for You (Watty Awards 2012)Where stories live. Discover now