All The Wild Ones | Wildfire Series

Interception

GRAYSON

Reality was escaping me.

I was warned about this. Diagrams, drawings, 3D models—I'd seen them all. They showed me what I couldn't actually see with my own two eyes. What my heart looked like when I was born.

In middle school, they told kids to remember what the aorta did by using alliteration. The aorta is the artery that carries the blood away from the heart. Aorta, artery, away.

I didn't need that. I knew the aorta carried the blood away from the heart. I knew it because once upon a time, my aorta was so narrow that my tiny baby heart overworked itself just so I could stay alive. Just so the rest of my body could get that blood.

They fixed it, of course. But my entire life, they warned me this could happen, that there was more at risk than perpetual high blood pressure. It was rare, but it was possible. That my aorta wouldn't be able to carry blood away from my heart well enough again. Aorta, artery, away.

And if the rest of my body didn't get the blood it needed...well, lots of shit could happen.

And now that it had, I didn't believe it.

I didn't believe it at all.

Lying in a hospital bed—it was just a surreal imagining that doctors had conjured up to scare me. It was a picture my parents had painted to try to convince me not to play football. It was nothing but a narrative in a pamphlet.

It wasn't real.

What was going on in my head was far more likely. Curled up in my dorm room with Nessa. That was real. That had to be the truth. These doctors, this hospital bed—it was just another nightmare.

I didn't believe it. Not for a long time.

"Gray," Mom said, "look at me."

I rolled my eyes over, just wanting this scene to wash away again so I could go back to my bed. My real bed. The one that was waiting for me with a dark-haired, sharp-tongued girl in it. I missed her lips already. As soon as I woke up, I'd kiss her until she was breathless and begging me for more.

"I'm looking," I droned.

"He seems more aware today," she said beneath her breath, glancing at Maman. "Better than yesterday, at least."

"I'm aware."

Aware that this wasn't real. Aware that I didn't believe her lying lips for a second.

Mom's eyes widened as she looked back at me. They were watery.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital."

That much seemed obvious. I ran my tongue over my chapped lips, wondering if this goddamn place had water and if I'd be able to drink it, considering this was just another dream. But I was too impatient.

"I need to get back, though, mom."

Back to Nessa.

Mom jumped out of her chair, grabbing my hand. Maman appeared over her shoulder, clutching onto it as she looked down at me.

"Don't," she breathed. "Stay here."

I didn't want to stay here. It smelled sterile and sweaty all at once. There was a constant beeping, and it was giving me a headache.

"But—"

"Grayson," Mom cut in again, "you've been in a coma, honey."

A coma? Shit, this was even more depressing than usual.