Playing for More (Love on the Court - Book #1)

20. Best of Friends

CARTER

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A jolt of pain rips through my neck, snapping me awake. The blinding hospital lights assault my senses, but weirdly, instead of laying on something cold and stiff - its warm and squishy.

Reality punches back – the frantic call to Addison, the fear that my mom might not see tomorrow. But why the hell am I here? Did Addison seriously haul herself to the hospital? I look up, and there she is.

Slouched super uncomfortably against the chair, a hand still in my hair there is Addison. She is snoozing, hair all tousled, face all calm.

My head's still pulsing with stress, the same stress that made me dial her number in the first place. Addison Foster is there, my head on her lap. The girl who wouldn't spare me a glance until recently, came running here - and stayed - because I called.

A flicker of embarrassment hits me.

Her heart kept stopping - and I didn't know how to deal with it. My dad knows, but I don't want him around. Then there is Addison.

The only person who knows.

I've also never had someone who knew the truth, the whole truth. It's messing with my head big time.

Addison stirs, a little groan escaping her lips as she shifts in her sleep. Perfect timing for an escape. As I stand, my legs protest the overnight stay in the world's least comfortable chair.

Destination: the hospital cafeteria.

Am I avoiding her after calling her here? Yes. Yes. I am. We're not in any kind of relationship. Friendship or otherwise.

Two coffees, extra strong, seem like the cure for my overnight misadventures. The machine makes a weird sound as I press the buttons, but I'm used to it. Then, when I'm back in the waiting room, I weigh the idea of waking up Addison.

If I do, I have to talk to her and own up to the fact I called her.

It wasn't very Carter Harris of me.

I've played the persona for so long. I don't know where it ends and where I begin. So, when she opens her eyes, who am I supposed to be exactly? Who do I want to be? Who can I afford to be?

"Carter?"

At the sound of my name, I turn my head and spot Maggie. She's often with my mom. "Your mom's awake," Maggie says, her voice soft, but I see her small smile.

It's good news.

I ditch the cups of coffee on the small table next to Addison, trailing Maggie down the sterile hospital hallway. The antiseptic scent tags along as I hustled through the hallways.

Approaching my mom's room, my steps kick into high gear. Anxiety clenches my chest, and my brain is running through a thousand thoughts.

Maggie swings the door open, revealing my mom in the bed, looking even more fragile and sickly than before.

The room is a vacuum of sound, only broken by the faint hum of medical gear. My mom's eyes lock onto mine, and despite the way they're half-closed, there's a glimmer of reassurance.

There's my mom. Fighting as always. Though the circles beneath her eyes are darker, and seeing her without the scarf on her head shows how bad it is. Her hair never grew back, her skull dented... her skin an ashen color.

She used to be so full of life, so energetic, with big cheeks that would hide her eyes when she smiled too much. Now, we're lucky with the smile reaches her eyes.