here it is, i had to post it on my iPad and everything so some words that should have been like this isn't that. so I'm sorry.
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Justin
Everything hurt. Trying to open my eyes, to move my hands, to part my chapped lips. Light stabbed the back of my eyelids and I wanted to wince, because it had been dark for so long, but I couldn't even do that.
After the light came the sounds. There was a constant, rhythmic bleep, and then another irregular, windy sound, like pages being turned in a book. There wasn't really a discernible smell, save for a faint waft of coffee. I felt neither hot nor cold, but my bones were heavy.
I tried to focus on my hand, the way I'd moved it before when I'd squeezed Brooklyn's hand. I had no idea when that had been. Hours, days, weeks ago? My fingers felt stiff as I tried to fold them and then stretch them again. My skin hurt when I did that, so I guessed there was an IV there. At the pain, my head seemed to clear a bit and lolled to the side, trying to get away from the brightness of the sunshine.
I heard a loud gasp.
I finally got my eyes to open. I blinked several times until my vision was clear enough to make out the person sitting beside me. There was a magazine discarded on the couch where she'd previously been perched. Now Jazmyn stood very still, a hand cupping her mouth as her big eyes stared at me in bemusement.
I opened my mouth to try to say something, but no words came out. My throat was dry and I felt like moving another muscle would send me back into unconsciousness. I felt exhausted even after having been sleeping for God knows how long.
Eventually, Jazmyn lowered her hand, and her look turned from disbelieving to angry in a matter of seconds. "You asshole," she said, not kindly. "Don't you dare close your eyes again. I'm going to get the doctor and Mom. If you so much as fall back asleep..." Her voice was hard and unyielding, like she really was mad at me, but her eyes shone with tears and her hands were trembling at her sides. She didn't even finish the sentence.
I was stunned into silence-not that I could have talked anyway-having expected a warmer welcoming. I hadn't imagined Jazmyn would be too happy with me, but being called asshole beat any other expectations.
She left the room before I could do anything besides stare at her in shock, scurrying down the corridor, calling my mom's name. I was pretty sure the whole hospital figured out I was awake.
My mom came into the room not a minute later, tears rolling down her cheeks, looking every bit as shattered as I felt. A man dressed in a white coat followed after her.
"Mom," I rasped out, trying to swallow some saliva to alleviate the scratchiness in my throat. It barely came out, but she started crying hander, delicately wrapping me in her arms as she hugged me to her, murmuring. I didn't complain when her weight pressed against what I presumed was a wound in my chest, even though it hurt like hell.
"Oh, dear God," she was saying. "You're awake. My baby. Thank heavens." She pulled away from me, hastily wiping at her makeup smeared eyes. She looked like she'd just arrived at the hospital from work ten minutes ago. The relief in her expression and her words made my chest hurt for a completely different reason than a physical wound. Jazzy had been right. It was obvious I had hurt her immensely.
"Sorry to interrupt the mother-son moment, but I need to check a few things." The doctor that had come after my mom cleared his throat, walking around the bed to where all the machines attached to my body were. There was one showing my heartbeat. That was the only one I could tell what it was for. The rest just made noises and were connected to my body via tubes. I preferred not to look down underneath the stupid, nearly sheer gown I was wearing. Who knew what other injuries I had and how nasty they looked.
Mom only took a step backward, still holding my hand and talking, while the doctor checked the machines and listened to my heart with a stethoscope. "I was so, so worried, Justin. You've been in a coma for nearly a week." Her voice shook, her blue eyes glassy and big and scared.
I tried to swallow again. This felt worse than being called an asshole.
"You can give him some water." The doctor nodded at a pitcher that was on a high table beside the bed. His tone was clipped and detached, as if my mom's pain didn't affect him in the slightest.
I was grateful for the cool water as soon as it slid down in my parched mouth and down my esophagus, getting to an empty stomach. I assumed they'd been intravenous-feeding me.
I couldn't take the look on my mom's face any longer. Even after I'd gulped down the glass of water and thanked her and the doctor seemed to be done with poking my body, she keep looking at me like my being alive was a gift from the gods. Or a miracle at the least.
"I'm sorry," I said. It was a pathetic thing to say, but there weren't words to apologize for everything I'd put her through. I hoped she understood that I meant more than just the accident.
"Justin," she whispered, her gaze softening, her hand cupping one of my cheeks. I could feel the light stubble that'd grown there over the days. Thankfully, excessive facial hair wasn't a problem for me. She didn't say anything else, probably at a loss for words as well.
Jazmyn barreled into the room right as the doctor was calling someone on his pager. He shook his head at Jazmyn, as though he was acquainted with her enough to find her irritating. I couldn't blame him; Jazzy was... intense.
"Oh, you're talking now?" She ignored the doctor and narrowed her eyes at me, as if to show she'd totally recovered from her emotionalness (that's what she would call it) before. "Wonderful. You may as well start explaining. We have all day. Or afternoon, whatever." She sat down in a chair, assessing eyes on me.
"Jazmyn, don't stress him out," my mom chided her, almost sounding glad that we were bickering again. "Justin needs to rest. There will be time for questions later."
"That's true. You may want to lay back on the glaring and threatening your brother you've been carrying out lately," the doctor said from the door, where I supposed he was waiting to talk with my mom. "He's not unconscious anymore, so he might yell back."
I think both Jazmyn and I were equally taken aback by the doctors attempt at humor. I mean, he was an old man with his serious face and graying hair and those thin gold-rimmed glasses only old people wore. He didn't strike me as the funny type. My mom, however, smiled.
"I'll be right back, sweetheart." She kissed my forehead, squeezed my arm and left with the doctor, presumably to talk about what could happen with me now. I didn't miss the way she seemed reluctant to leave my side, as though I would vanish if she dropped my hand.
Jazmyn was still sending daggers my way.
"Can you stop with the glaring? It makes me feel like you'd rather I hadn't woken up."
She immediately stopped. "Don't say that. You know I was dying to see you awake."
I extended an arm to touch her hair. She let me, but spoke before I could apologize to her like I'd done to Mom. I had a feeling she wasn't ready to forgive me yet. And that was okay-
"It's Thursday," she said. "I thought you must be wondering."
My mouth opened in surprise. Not the good kind. "I've been out of it for six days?" When my mom had said a week, I'd thought she was exaggerating.
"Mhhh." Jazmyn nodded her head absently.
"Have you-" I hesitated, cursing myself for Brooklyn being the first thing that had come to my mind as soon as I opened my eyes, even before wondering how long it had been since Friday. "Have you, you know, told everyone already?"
Jazmyn stifled a smirk. "Who do you mean with everyone?" She knew where I was going with this and she was going to make it difficult for me.
"Everyone," I replied dryly. "Tyson, Sam, Bruce and Diane..."
Jazmyn winced at the mention of our grandparents, so I gathered they hadn't taken much interest in my well being. That, or my mom hadn't even bothered telling them. I pushed the pang of hurt to the back of my mind. I couldn't think about it right now.
"I sent the same text to all of them. Tyson and Sam are on their way. Alejandra will probably come too."
I cut her there because I didn't like Brooklyn's name not being there along with Tyson and Sam's. "Alejandra?"
"She's been visiting you." Jazmyn's voice and face were tight. "I guess it's the least she could do since she is the very reason why you're here."
"It wasn't her fault, Jazmyn. Whatever you've heard-"
"She told us herself," she cut me off quickly. "I don't know how mom doesn't hate her. Brooklyn should've ripped her head off. If only security hadn't kicked her out."
"Wait, Brooklyn, my Brooklyn was kicked out of the hospital by security?" I asked, astonished.
Jazmyn sent me a questioning glance. I'd said my Brooklyn like I still had a right to call her mine, but I couldn't help it. I looked away from Jazmyn.
"She started screaming at Alejandra, calling her a whore, saying that she should be the one dying instead of you."
"But I didn't die," I protested weakly, unable to believe Brooklyn had really said those things. Both because she was supposed to be mad at me and because she never swore.
"You were a breath away from dying, Justin," Jazmyn said earnestly.
This time I swallowed down hard. "I'm-"
"Sorry? I know. You didn't think before you acted. That tends to happen with you. Not thinking, I mean."
I ignored her remark. "I heard bits of what you said while I was asleep."
Jazmyn tensed visibly, her hazel eyes alert. "I said a lot of things."
"Were they true?"
"What part?"
"When you said that you needed me, that I was important." It was as hard for me to say the words as I knew it was for her to listen to them. None of us had ever been the sentimental sibling type.
Jazmyn met my eyes, this time not with disdain or anger, but sadness and love. "Of course it is true, you fool." She stood up, resting her hands on my arm that wasn't injected with IVs. "You're my brother. I missed you. I was worried sick about you." She blinked rapidly and leaned down to hug me, more gently than I would've expected from Jazzy. I felt wetness on my neck where she was hiding her face. My arms circled around her as tightly as I could manage in my weak state.
"I'm so glad you're back," she mumbled, muffled by my neck.
"Me too," I said, blinking rapidly myself. I knew how bad I'd hurt Jazmyn and still she was giving me another chance, forgiving me, when I knew it wasn't being easy for her to do so. "I love you, rugrat."
At that she hugged me tighter. I flinched at the pain in my chest, but didn't push her away.
"I love you, too," she said in the end, lifting her head up. Her face was dry and she was smiling. Her smile faded when she saw me wincing. "Are you in pain? Do you need the doctor? A nurse should be here any moment." She started for the door, almost panicking, but I held her back.
"It's alright, Jazzy. I probably just need more painkillers, but before they knock me out, I want you tell me what happened to my body. It feels like one big bruise."
Jazmyn sat back down and gingerly started telling me about all the surgeries I had undergone and what had happened when I'd been in the brink of dying. I listened in silence throughout the whole explanation, grimacing and almost gagging at the mention of blood and broken ribs and a collapsed lung. That explained the pain in my left side.
"And you don't have a spleen anymore," she added as an afterthought.
"Oh." My eyes widened. "Is that important?"
For some reason I felt a bit scared when she mentioned I was lacking an organ.
"Apparently not indispensable." She shrugged.
I hadn't time to dwell on it because Jazzy's phone beeped. She bit her lip as she read whatever text she had gotten, hastily shutting the phone off.
"What is it?" I asked warily.
She seemed reluctant to tell me.
"Jazmyn."
"It was Brooklyn."
I sucked in a deep breath, which seemed to upset my lung. "Is she coming?" I hated the hope in my voice.
Jazmyn avoided looking at me. "She was here all afternoon, just left like two hours before you woke up. She says she can't come now because she has an important test tomorrow."
We both knew that was a lame excuse. Brooklyn would've ditched a text book for me any moment before. Before. I didn't even have a right to be upset about it now. It was totally understandable that she didn't want to see me after everything I'd done to hurt her, but a part of me had been hopeful that, since she'd been visiting while I was unconscious, she would be ready to see me now. Clearly, she wasn't. She probably just felt pity for me and she'd been coming more for Pattie and Jazmyn that for me, for us. If there was still a chance for an us. I was pretty sure I'd ruined them all.
"I screwed up royally," I sighed.
"Seems like it," Jazmyn said, putting her phone away.
________________________________
"He's asleep again?" a hushed voice asked.
"It's the painkillers. They leave him groggy," someone replied.
I blinked away the sleepiness, startled when I opened my eyes and saw a dark-haired girl looking down at me with big eyes.
"Hey, Justin," she said quietly, standing at the foot of the bed. Jazmyn was discreetly studying her, as if ready to jump in at any weird movement Alejandra might make.
"Hey," I said, ignoring Jazmyn. "What time is it?"
I had fallen asleep after Tyson, Sam and Mike had left, which had been late afternoon I think.
"Time for you to eat," Jazmyn said, producing a tray with hospital food as if by magic. She set it down on a table with wheels and rolled it so it was resting over my stomach. "The nurse said you should try to eat a bit so your stomach gets used to it again. They'd been feeding you through that." She pointed to a white, viscous-looking bag hanging from the IV pole next to my bed and shuddered. "It looks like elf puke."
"Thank you," I muttered, now grossed out, thinking about how much I would love a burger, fries and a beer.
"Eat slowly and don't make yourself sick. It will take a little while to keep down normal amounts of food." It seemed as if Jazzy had learned the nurse's instructions by heart. That explained why there was only a bowl of soup that was nearly clear and some red thing that resembled jell-o.
"Do I really have to?" I asked with a scowl as Jazzy pressed some buttons to lift the bed into a sitting position.
"Do I have to feed it to you like a baby?" She raised an eyebrow. I had a feeling that she would enjoy that.
"No."
It felt weird to eat, almost as if I had forgotten how to during the coma. To make matters worse, I had to use my right hand since my left arm was all punctured with the IVs and I was unable to lift it without feeling any discomfort. They had even put a straw in my water bottle, which made me look like a five-year-old.
"I can't eat if you're both staring at me like that," I stated when I noticed Jazmyn and Alejandra following my every moment, like seeing someone eat soup was any entertainment.
To my surprise-after thinking I was so hungry-I couldn't finish the soup, and I totally ditched the jell-o thingy. I had never liked jelly too much.
"I'll carry this to the tray rack trolley outside," Jazmyn chipped in after I pushed the table away, sending a warning glance at Alejandra before she strutted away.
Alejandra almost rolled her eyes, but sat on the couch next to the bed instead. "How are you feeling?" she asked, placing her hands between her knees. She was chewing her cheek like she felt guilty or apprehensive.
"A bit dizzy. And weird," I confessed. "But I guess it could be worse after everything they had to do to me." I tried to give a shrug, but my chest hurt. The painkillers they were giving me didn't quite extinguish the pain.
Dr. Holloway-that was the old-looking, gray-haired, golden-glasses man's name-had clarified everything Jazmyn had already told me in medical detail. I almost didn't want to hear it, but I was glad I had no idea what most of the terms he used meant. Either way, my body had taken a nice battering.
"You made quite the mess," Alejandra said lightly, but her heart wasn't in it. She looked like she had had to bear everyone's accusations on her when, in reality, it was all on me.
"I don't want you to feel like any of it was your fault, Ale. I jumped in front of that car. I was the one supposed to take the blow. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"But Justin, what you did was crazy." Her eyes were big and round, glassing over. "You could be dead right now and no amount of reassurance would make me feel any less guilty about it. You shouldn't have done it."
"And how do you think I would feel if you had died? Tyler wanted to run me over. It's not fair to let people who hate me hurt innocent people. I would do it again," I said sincerely.
Alejandra looked like she was about to start crying, so I changed the subject to a safer territory.
"What happened to Tyler?" I asked. I didn't really want to know anything about the motherfucker, but I was sort of hoping he'd ended up worse than me. Being the one outside the car probably let me at a disadvantage, though.
"I haven't talked to him directly, but someone told me he just hit his head pretty badly. Broke a couple ribs too. And his ankle. But he's not in the hospital anymore. He got out a few days ago."
Great.
"It doesn't matter. I will fucking kill him as soon as I can get out of this bed." I hadn't realized I was curling my hands into fists until Alejandra told me off for it. The tape that was holding the IV in my hand was stained with blood from the pressure.
"You may not have the chance," she said softly. Everything about her seemed softer since she'd realized she was worth more than Tyler made her believe. I felt bad with myself for having done the same during the time we were "together". "The cops have been questioning everyone. If they can prove Tyler did it on purpose, he'll be charged with attempted murder. He could go to jail."
If I couldn't kill him myself, the idea of Tyler rotting in prison for the rest of his life seemed rather appealing.
"Brooklyn's dad is taking personal care of your case. She told me he'd do his damnedest to make Tyler pay for what he did."
"Was that before or after she verbally vomited all over you?"
"Oh, that." Alejandra looked embarrassed. "Did Brooklyn tell you?"
I shook my head. "She hasn't come yet." And I think she won't come, period.
Alejandra's brows furrowed in a mixture of incredulity and pity. "I understand her, you know. I would probably have done the same if roles were reversed. Anyway, we kind of made up the next day."
I made a sound of amusement. "So you're friends now?"
"Not exactly. I don't think we'll ever be able to be friends. She's too Upper-East-Side-y for me."
I chuckled bitterly. "I think she is for me, too."
Alejandra didn't say anything for a moment, and then, "Justin, isn't she coming to see you? Like later or tomorrow or something?"
"Doesn't seem like it. Not that I can blame her. I wouldn't want to see me either if I was her."
Alejandra played with a frayed hole in her jeans. "Well, yes. But she was here every day." She looked up. "She even snuck into the ICU while you were there. More than once. And then, when they moved you to this room, she hardly left your side. Her parents practically had to drag her away every night and as soon as school was over she drove straight here."
I felt a swell in my heart that I was pretty sure was hope and tried to smother it. That doesn't mean anything, I reminded myself.
"I must be more attractive when I'm asleep then."
"Don't be cynical. You're dying to see her," Alejandra said smugly.
"Of course I am," I muttered bashfully. "I just don't think she is. She would be here otherwise. Jazmyn let her know I was awake and she said she had to study."
"Wow." Alejandra crossed her arms, leaning back on the couch, now more relaxed. "You're gonna have to work hard to get her to forgive you."
"That's if she ever forgives me," I mused.
"Remind me again why you had to screw everything up?"
"Because I'm an idiot?" I said rhetorically. I almost expected Alejandra to agree with me and add some more insults to the already growing assortment of them I had in mind, but she said nothing, as if she was waiting for me to elaborate beyond cursing myself.
"I guess I thought it was a good idea at the time," I started after taking a deep breath. "It seemed like the best way to stop hurting her. I had been pushing her away for weeks, lying, getting in trouble... It hardly seemed fair to keep her hanging on like that while I kept being a selfish bastard. I figured if there was no way I could change for her, I could at least set her free so she could find someone better."
All the time, I'd been staring down at the white sheet draped over my stomach, tugging at a lose thread. I could feel Alejandra's eyes on me burning with frustration. She always tended to get frustrated with me for whatever reason. The difference was that now she had every reason to.
"You know, for someone who detests romance, you sound a hell lot like guys in those sappy novels girls like," Alejandra said, with an expression I couldn't really decipher.
"You are a girl, too, you know?"
She scoffed playfully. "Really? I had no idea." Then, she got all serious again. "There is no one better than you for her, Justin," she said, putting a hand over mine. "There might be someone with more money, with a less problematic past, more handsome-"
"There is no one more handsome than me."
Alejandra smiled. "What I'm trying to say is that you guys are made for each other and all that corny shit, blah blah blah. I overheard your mom and hers talking about it the other day. They were saying how crazy it was that you two were so in love so young and how cute it was and how they were worried about both of you because they knew something was wrong. And now I'll stop saying cheesy things."
"Yeah, since when are you so cheesy?" I asked jokingly, trying to suppress a grin.
"Tell you what." Alejandra suddenly stood up, slapping her hands to her thighs as though she'd had an idea. "We're gonna call her."
"I don't think that's a good idea," I objected, feeling nervous at the prospect of speaking to Brooklyn, even on the phone. Plus, I doubted she wouldn't hang up on me.
"Well, it's a start." She took her phone out of her purse.
"Did you guys exchange numbers too?"
Alejandra sent me an impatient glare. "I was hoping you'd know her number."
"I do," I said. "But shouldn't we use my phone?"
"Your phone is no longer a phone. I don't think you wanna see it." She made an apologetic face. "It kind of got crushed in the accident, but look at the bright side: now you can get the iPhone Gold whatever."
Honestly, I could care less about my phone at the moment. The only thing I didn't want to lose were all the pictures and those might be possible to save if the SD card wasn't broken.
"Go ahead," Alejandra said, ready to dial Brooklyn's number.
"I still don't think we should call her. What if she doesn't pick up?" I worried my lower lip.
A wicked smile spread over Alejandra's face. "She won't know it's us until she does, and then, I'll be too late."
Brooklyn
"Do you know this number?" I asked Blake as we cleared the table after dinner. María had a day off and my mom had cooked instead. I showed my brother the lit up screen of my phone.
"Why would I?"
I rolled my eyes at his stroppiness. "You're such a teenager."
Blake rolled his eyes back.
I slipped out of the room, ignoring his whines that we weren't done with the table and picked up the phone. Numbers I didn't know always made me curious and, after all, if it was a serial killer, I could always hang up and change my number.
"Hello?"
"Brooklyn," a girl's voice answered.
"Who's this?" I asked, padding over to my room.
"I thought she'd recognize my voice," the girl said to someone in the background, doing a bad job of covering the speaker. "It's Alejandra, who else." So no serial killer.
"Alejandra? No offense, but why are you calling me?" Last time I checked she didn't have my number. Maybe I shouldn't have hugged her. Did she think we were friends now or something?
"None taken. I'm at the hospital." That was enough to stop me dead. "Justin gave me your number." I heard a groan in the background and could picture Justin with his face in his hands, embarrassed.
My stomach started knotting. "Oh." I seemed to forget how to speak.
"So I was telling Justin how you'd been coming here every day and stuff, and what a pity it would be if you didn't get to see him now that he's awake. I know that you're busy with school, but Justin really wants to see you." Why did she sound like she was trying to pair us up in a blind date?
"I don't know, I really am busy and it's late." My mind was making up excuses since it was divided between the urgent need to check on Justin and see with my own eyes that he was alive and breathing and okay, and the dread to experience the horrible heartbreak that was written all over his eyes the last time I'd seen them.
"So come tomorrow. It's Friday. I'm sure you can cancel on your tea party after school and come by."
"I don't have a tea party-"
"Look, you're not fooling anyone," Alejandra interrupted me in a lower voice. I supposed she didn't want Justin to hear whatever she was going to say next. "I know you're scared of seeing Justin again, and it's normal. You are entitled to hate him for what he did to you. But I'm not entirely sure you actually do. Hate him, I mean. I think you want to, but you can't. And you know what? That's not bad. That means you're a great girl and you're able to see past his mistakes, right?"
"I guess?"
"Good. So why don't you just come see him and talk things out? It can't be that difficult."
"I don't know. It's not so easy. A lot has happened and-"
I was cut off in the mid-sentence again. This time Alejandra raised her voice to make sure Justin heard. "You're coming tomorrow after school? That sounds great. Justin will be here waiting for you. Not that he can really go anywhere, but yeah. It was nice talking to you. Bye!"
Alejandra finished the call before I could have my final say-or any say whatsoever. The last thing I heard before the connection broke was, "We're even."
________________________________
Awkward.
That was the first thing I thought when I came face to face with the door of Justin's room. It's going to be so awkward. I pulled the door handle and took a step inside. Don't embarrass yourself. The short corridor that led into the room seemed too short a distance to calm down my nerves. I'd been delaying the unavoidable for as long as had been possible; taking my sweet time at my locker at school, driving to the hospital carefully and slowly, going around the block twice before I finally parked. But now here I was and I had to do it. I knew I had to do it or I would regret it.
Seeing Justin again had an impact on me I hadn't been expecting. He was reading a gossip magazine in his bed, seemingly engrossed in an article about Kanye West and Kim Kardashian. He hastily put the magazine down when he heard footsteps. I raised my eyebrows.
"I got bored," he said quickly, and that was what saved us from a dramatic movie-like reencounter. Thank God.
I lifted my palms up. "Not judging." Justin almost smiled.
Our eyes locked when he looked up, and I had a hard time holding his gaze. I think, from his expression, that he was expecting me to run off any second. I walked further into the room, looking around just to avoid looking at him again. The plainness of the room didn't allow for much digression, though.
I ended up sitting in the same chair I'd seated in every time I visited. I was pretty sure the shape of my bum was imprinted on the cushion.
"How are you?" I asked, setting my bag and coat aside and finally looking at him again. He looked better and healthier than he'd done all week, but there were still shadows around his eyes and paleness on his skin, despite how much he'd been sleeping. His jaw was shadowed by some light stubble, and his cheeks were sunken from not eating.
His eyes only fluttered to mine once before they went back to staring down at his hands. I noticed they'd removed some of the tubes from his arm, but there was still an IV pumping serum in the inside of his elbow and the catheter in his stomach. He'd removed the pulse oximeter from his finger and it lay by his side on top of the sheets.
"You're not supposed to take this off," I said in an admonishing voice despite my tries to sound flat. I clipped the thing back on his finger. He didn't complain when I did it, but he did shiver a little when our skin brushed. "So how are you?"
"Honestly? I don't know," he murmured. His hair was flopping into his eyes and I had to put my hand underneath my leg to resist the urge to push it back. "Everything hurts and then, they give me this meds that knock me out for hours and when I wake up it's like being disorientated all over again."
"I'm sorry I didn't come yesterday." I'd promised myself I wouldn't apologize for it, but seeing Justin in such a vulnerable state was playing tricks on my conscience. It was hard enough not to hug the life out of him when he looked at me with those sad, beautiful hazel eyes.
Justin's head jerked up like an apology was the last thing he'd been waiting for. "It's okay," he said. "I wasn't really sure you'd show up today."
"Well, Alejandra didn't leave me much of a choice, did she?" I regretted the words as soon as I saw the look on his face, although he hid it quickly. What was he expecting anyway? He treated me like crap, he broke up with me. Was I even supposed to be here? I was pretty sure normal girls didn't visit their ex-boyfriends in the hospital after being totally humiliated.
Then the awkwardness began. None of us knew what to say. There was so much to say, but every single thing could potentially end in an argument, a fight, and let's start over again.
"What I don't understand is why you care what happens to me. You should hate me, not want to see me, and yet everyone's telling me you've practically spent the last week here by my side. I don't get it." Justin was looking at me like I held the key to a locked treasure.
"To be honest, I don't get it either." It was the truth. I hated him yet I didn't. It was all confusing enough in my head; I couldn't even try to put it into words. "It's like, I was so mad at you for what you'd said to me. I was in a sucky mood all week. I felt like shit and then my dad gets a call that there's been an accident in the Bronx and the only thing I can think about is that something might've happened to you and it's like my heart is breaking all over again when I get there and see you lying in a pool of blood and I think 'Damn, I'd take heartbreak any time before I have to see him dying in front of my eyes again'. And I was angrier that you'd put your life in danger like that than about any other thing. I am tempted to kill you right now, trust me."
Justin's eyes had widened as my voice had raised.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm still furious," I retorted.
"I just-I didn't think you would care," he said, actually perplexed.
"I wasn't the one that said all those hurtful things. I never said I didn't care about you. I never stopped caring." My voice came out sharply. "You were the one that didn't seem to give a crap about me or my feelings and I haven't forgiven you for that. I just can't bring myself not to care about your well-being. So yes, I was worried about you, and I came to check on you every day, and that doesn't really change anything."
"I was afraid it wouldn't," Justin said, eyes cast down.
I didn't know what else to say. I thought we would argue, but he wasn't fighting back. Like it wasn't worth it. It was like he'd assumed his guilt and that made me feel both angrier and sadder at the same time.
"Is that all you're going to say?"
Justin stopped playing with his fingers in his lap to glance at me. "What should I say? That I'm sorry? Well, I fucking am. There has not been a day since that night that I haven't regretted what I said or what I did. You didn't deserve to go through that, and if I had the chance, I'd take it all back and make it right. But as you said, that doesn't really change anything. You are mad and I understand it and I would be mad if you weren't."
"I think you need time to sort your life out. Put some order into it."
"I have nothing to sort out. I screwed up my life because I thought that was what I wanted, what I needed. I thought I'd feel better once I'd broken everything around me so there was nothing left that could hurt me, but all I feel is regret and pain and emptiness and I know I don't want it to be like this but I don't know how to get back to how it was before either." His eyes shone with specks of green and gold, looking at me with that lost expression again, as if he was desperate for answers. Answers I didn't have.
"I don't know how to go back, either." My voice cracked at the end and I had to sniff. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
I knew the conversation had finished then. Neither of us knew what the next step was or what would happen. How to get out of this? How to go on from here? Just, how?
"I should go," I said, having recovered my voice. I stood up and reached out to take his hand then thought better of it. It wouldn't help. "I'm glad you're awake, Justin."
Our eyes met again, and it was painful to tear my gaze away, almost as painful as witnessing all the emotions flashing through his eyes. Regret, fear, sadness, confusion, frustration, defeat, love.
I turned around and didn't look back again as the damn tears made a stellar comeback.
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That night I was writing an English essay on my laptop when a Skype alert popped up. I hardly ever used Skype unless it was to talk to my cousin Tessa, and I was pretty sure she was asleep. Like any other normal person considering the late hour. I was insomniac tonight.
My face scrunched up in surprise when I saw Ryan's name on the screen. I don't think we'd ever talked via Skype. We hadn't talked much since he left for college after Christmas Break, actually.
"Hey, sis," Ryan said when I accepted the call. He looked pretty awake and I could hear the noise of an Xbox in the background along with a guy's shouts. Figures they would be drinking and playing Halo at 2 am on a Friday.
"Hi, what's up?" I replied distractedly.
"Just checking up on you." Ryan smiled, his image distorted and blurred by the dimness of his room's lights. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
"I could say the same to you. And I can't really sleep so I'm doing homework." I picked the pen I'd been taking notes with and started doodling on a sheet of paper.
"I heard about Justin. Mom told me," Ryan said carefully, making my head snap up.
"Oh." I didn't really want to think further of Justin, even though it was all that had been on my mind since leaving the hospital. Not even homework had been able to take my mind off the subject. I didn't particularly feel like discussing the matter with Ryan's drunk roommate hollering in the background either.
"You don't wanna talk about it. Got it," Ryan said with that voice men use when they know they have to be cautious around a woman. "Actually, I wanted to talk with you about Michael."
Now, that got my attention. "Michael? What about him?"
"You remember before I came back to Brown I talked to Dad, right? Well, it was difficult to explain what'd happened without mentioning any names."
"But you didn't say anything about Justin, did you?" A rush of panic froze me to the chair.
Ryan shook his head. "No, I promised you I wouldn't. But Dad mentioned a name. Tyler." My stomach turned at the sound of it. When I was alone at night, I got terrified just by thinking of him. "It rang a bell. I knew I'd heard it somewhere before, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then Dad said that he was being investigated because of the accident with Justin and I remember they were mortal enemies or whatever these gang kids call it."
"Justin's not in a gang," I retorted. "So what's up with Tyler?"
"Well, I hoped you could tell me. That guy is downright crazy."
"Tell me about it," I murmured.
"Huh?"
"Nothing. I've just heard some really nasty things about him." And experienced them first hand, unfortunately. My skin crawled whenever I thought back to that night.
"Whatever. He'll end up behind bars if they get enough proof that he's guilty. I'm sure they can dig something from his past anyway. He must've a criminal record as long as the Bible." Ryan snorted. I had to agree with him on that.
"So have Jared and you talked to Michael's parents?" I asked. I hadn't been very participative when it came to my family life lately.
"We had to tell them everything in front of Dad and some other police officers. It was horrible." His expression became bitter. "I know this sounds terrible, but I hope I don't have to see them ever again."
"That's understandable. I hope they can catch Anthony and put an end to everything he's been doing," I said.
Ryan sighed tiredly. "Me too, sis."
His phone rang then and I would swear despite the low quality of the image that he was blushing. That piqued my interest.
"Aren't you gonna take that?"
Ryan silenced the phone, but didn't decline the call. His eyes started darting everywhere.
"Who was it?"
"Um, just a friend. I'll call her later," he almost stammered.
"So the friend is a girl." I smirked. "Since when do you have girl friends?"
Ryan gave a look. "Fine. She's more than a friend."
"Can I know her name?"
"No."
"Where did you meet her?"
"None of your business."
"How long have you two been dating?"
"Again, none of your business."
"Ha!" I exclaimed. "So you are dating."
Ryan groaned. "Ugh, you women are twisted little snakes. Don't you dare say anything to Mom and Dad or they'll get excited and scare her away."
"No worries. You can bring her to my graduation in June. If you're still together, that is."
"Geez, thanks for your faith in me, Brooke."
"You're welcome. So what's her name?" I asked. I was so glad for the change of subject and excited about my brother growing up, I totally forgot about my problems for a while.
"Kylie," he said her name in a way he'd never said a girl's name before, like it was a sacred word. I could tell he was fighting a smile.
"Kylie. Hmm." I nodded and started making kissing sounds and hearts with my hands until the screen went black because Ryan had left.
I turned off the computer and climbed into bed, leaving the light in my nightstand on. That night I decided I would go to the police station and tell someone what had happened with Tyler, not so much to increase the chances that he would get arrested, but for myself. I deserved to get everything out and grieve over it if I ever wanted to heal.
________________________________
"Brooklyn!" Kelsey screeched. I could have recognized that pitch anywhere. I didn't twist around to face her. "Oh, dear God. Why are you still in your pajamas? We're leaving in 15 minutes."
"I told you, I'm not going," I said unenthusiastically, my face muffled against the pillow.
"And I told you you are." I heard Kelsey rustling around my room, opening my closet, throwing things around. I still didn't move.
"Go without me. I'm not going to be any fun, anyway."
Kelsey stopped making noise for a second. "Brooklyn, you really need to get out of this void you've been living in since the last time you saw Justin. You know I respected your decision of not going back to the hospital to see him, but it's been two weeks and I don't see a change for the better. If anything, you are more miserable than you were before. I let you be because I didn't want you to have to face Justin if it was going to make you feel worse, but not seeing him has turned you into a clockwork zombie and I'm done with it."
I lifted my head and peered up at Kelsey. She was looking at me with something between annoyance and desperation.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, then dropped my head back down on the bed.
"Don't be. Just stand up so I can doll you up. The time is ticking," she sang, pulling at my arm. "Tic-tac, tic-tac."
I did it for her, because she was my best friend and she was the one that'd put up with me when I was moody and bitchy and depressed. I let her throw the prom gown over my head, brush my hair in a quick updo and put minimal makeup on my face. She did it in record time, and not twenty minutes later we were standing in front of a parked white limo.
"What is this?" I squealed.
"It's our senior prom. We have to celebrate it big time!"
I cringed as we hopped in the limo and I saw all these girls I'd once had close friendships with. They smiled and complimented my dress as if nothing had happened, but I could see beyond their fake happiness. After all, I had left most of them aside. I couldn't remember the last time we had all hung out like this. The only friend I was still close to was Kelsey, and that made me feel uncomfortable as I sat down between her and Clara, Caleb's sister.
We chatted on our way to the school, where the dance was being held, but my heart really wasn't in it. No amount of champagne-I had no idea how they had sneaked it in-or conversation could cheer me up. I missed Justin more than ever.
As I'd already predicted, I was no fun. I tried not to ruin Kelsey's night, but I had to resort to calling Tyson and begging him to come over. He'd shown up in blue jeans and a leather jacket and I'd had to made sure they would let him in since he made quite the contrast compared to the rest of the guys, who looked envious of his comfy outfit in their stiff tuxes.
Kelsey had scolded Tyson and hadn't stopped until I'd told her that it was me who had called him. I appreciated her girls-night idea, but I didn't want to be responsible for her boredom, too. So once she'd asked about a thousand times if I was okay with them going away to dance, she'd finally left. Tyson had shot me a meaningful look before disappearing inside the crowd that I could only interpret as You know why you're not having fun. And damn right I did.
Nobody knew how many times I'd held my phone in my hands, Justin's number dialed and I'd had to turn it off because the need to call him and hear his voice was so big I couldn't trust myself. Or how many days after picking Tommy up from soccer practice I'd been tempted to drive to Upper Manhattan and cross over to the Bronx, just to see how Justin was doing, if he looked better, if he missed me too.
It'd taken all my willpower not to do any of those things, and after a while, I'd started wondering whether this was really helping me. I was hoping for recovery but if I wasn't willing to let Justin go completely, I would only end up hurting myself even more. My attempts to forget about him seemed fruitless. I doubted I was trying to forget him but to forget what he'd done.
"You look like you need a drink."
I raised my head from my hands and looked at the person that had taken a seat next to me. Not many people were hanging around the corners like losers, like me, so I was taken aback when I saw Nate. Not that I'd thought about him at all recently, but I supposed I expected him to have a date. "I could use one," I admitted, taking the tall glass he was offering, which suspiciously looked like Coke.
Nate kept looking at me as I took a sip. "Too strong? You've always been a light drinker."
I tried not to wince as the alcohol burned my throat. It definitely tasted very little like Coke. I wondered how spiked it was. "It's okay. I think I need it." I took another, longer gulp. That, added to the champagne I'd drank earlier, was starting to make my head fuzzy and my skin warm.
"I never really got a chance to apologize for kissing you," Nate said. I guess he was taking advantage of me not blowing him away like all the times he'd tried before. "I shouldn't have done it while I knew you had a boyfriend, but I heard-"
"And here I was thinking you were being a genuinely nice friend to me," I spat, downing the rest of my drink in one quick motion before setting the glass down with force. The alcohol didn't burn that bad anymore.
"Bells, I didn't mean-"
"Leave it, Nate. You and I is never gonna happen again. I thought we might wind up being friends, but now I don't even want that." I waved away anything else he could want to say, aware that I was taking all of my pent-up stress on him because he was there and he had given me booze. "Thanks for the drink. Have a nice life."
With that I walked away. I was going to search for Kelsey and Tyson and tell them that I was catching a cab back home because senior prom was overrated and I didn't want to be here any longer, but there were so many couples on the dance floor and I was a bit dizzy and my feet were hurting in my heels, so I ended up just sending Kels a text. I hoped I hadn't misspelled anything, but I probably had.
I made my way over to the checkroom to retrieve my coat and stumbled out into the early May New York night. The breeze was cool against my heated face, but at least it wasn't freezing anymore. Spring was here. Yay. I waited a few minutes leaning against the pole of a street light for my brain to clear up. I hadn't drunk too much, but considering I'd skipped dinner and was a natural lightweight, I wanted to be sure I wouldn't pass out inside the taxi.
When I was positive I could stand on my feet without feeling wobbly and could speak without giggling at the way I'd just spoken to Nate, I hailed a cab. It was warm inside, and the middle-aged driver was listening to a country music radio station. He eyed my outfit disinterestedly as I discreetly shook my shoes off to give my feet a rest. It was a tad uncomfortable to wear such a fluffy gown in the limited space allowed by the backseat of a taxi. Champagne-colored chiffon and tulle floated around me like a cloud and once again I found myself stifling a giggle.
"Where to?" the driver asked monotonously. You couldn't exactly expect friendliness and amiability from most New Yorkers, especially if they worked night shifts.
I opened my mouth, sure that I was going to give him my home address, but surprised myself when my lips formed completely different words. "Jacobi Medical Center. And fast, please."
YOU ARE READING
B.R.O.N.X (NOT MINE)
Fanfiction"every girl wants a bad boy that will be good just for her."
