InEscapable

InEscapable Part 4

"I'm sorry," I gurgle.

The nurse hands me some paper towels and pours water from the Styrofoam pitcher into a cup on the rollaway table next to my bed. "Here, swish it around. Use this." She hands me a small kidney-shaped bowl. I never could figure out what these were for. Spitting, I guess. While I swish and spit, I watch her clean the floor with the skill of someone experienced in messes like these. When she's done, even the air smells clean, sanitized. Institutional.

I hear George outside the door on his cellphone. He's trying to keep his voice down, which is why I perk up. I should have known better. "I don't know what else to do with her," I hear him say quietly. "She was so close to Margaret, but I can't handle this. Trouble just finds her." A pause, then, "What other foster home? I don't believe anyone else could handle it either. Margaret was special. Look, I've got to go. We'll talk soon."

I close my eyes. George can't handle me anymore. He's thinking about sending me to another foster home. Somewhere that isn't Margaret's house. I deserve that. I cost him Gavin. He was close to Gavin.

The nurse mistakes my sigh for a different kind of agony.

"How is your pain?" she says, washing her hands at the sink. "You can have more meds if you need them."

"It's not bad." And it isn't. I'm getting less and less impressed with Leah and her faux beating. "How long have I been here?"

The nurse tilts her head. Her dark curly ponytail looks like a chinchilla lounging on her shoulder. "Not bad? You've got bruised ribs and a slight concussion. The ambulance brought you in this morning from school. You don't remember?"

Okay, maybe I'm a little impressed. "Sort of. What about the other girl? Leah?"

She shakes her head and grabs the bottom of my IV bag. Examining it, she says, "Maybe they took her to a different hospital. I heard you two didn't get along."

"Stop fishing for information," George calls from the door. "Or I'll have your job."

The nurse whirls on him. "I'm just making sure—"

"Out. Now." He cocks his head toward the door, attorney-style. It's an impressive transformation to see. George, who resembles a graying teddy bear, turn into a tiger in rapid-point-two seconds. But he's just protecting me. It's what he does.

Which makes the fact that he doesn't want me anymore hurt even worse.

She bristles past him without another word. George grins at me. I love it when he grins. "I love doing that," he drawls, all but swaggering back to the visitor's chair. A feisty teddy bear with cocky undertones.

I cross my arms at him, trying to seem disapproving. The nurse was nice, after all. "Leah?" I say.

He knows what I'm asking. "Don't worry, you didn't touch her. Oh, she tried to say you did. But she didn't have any defensive wounds. Made sure the cops saw that. Cops see what they want to see sometimes, you know? Especially with you. Got to do their job for them on occasion."

I didn't touch Leah. Relieved, I plop back against the pillow and let out a gust of air. Which hurts.

George notices me wince. "Sucks, doesn't it? Not to be able to fight back?"

"No."

"Liar. Nobody likes to get their ass kicked."

"I deserve it."