The Girl In Room 417

Untitled Part 9

This time, when I find myself walking through the hospital corridors, I slow my pace as I near room 417. The promise that I made to myself, to be kinder to 417, is in the forefront of my mind. I feel kind of sorry for the girl, and I can't deny that I'm curious about her.

"Hey four seven-teen" I drag out her nickname, giving her a mock salute and she looks up with a surprised smile. She salutes back, her face contorting in mock-seriousness and I laugh, continuing my way to Emily's room.

That wasn't so hard.

Granted it was the shortest encounter of two people, maybe ever, but it's a start.

I enter Emily's room with a grin and flop down into the ugly, uncomfortable blue plastic chair. Since I'm pretty sure I spend the majority of my time in said chair, I have claimed it as my own.

Emily looks suspicious.

"Why are you so happy?" She enquires with narrowed eyes.

I shrug my shoulders, beaming at her.

"This is weird, you never look this happy. Did 417 move out overnight or something?"

"What?"

"You always have this vague scowl on your face after you pass her room. It's right down the hall, I'm not blind, I do notice." She rolls her eyes and I frown.

"I do not." I cross my arms adamantly, trying to recall my own facial expressions and finding it exceedingly hard.

Emily scoffs.

"Uh, yeah you do. She was there, right? You may hate her but she's my friend."

"I don't hate her, you're being so melodramatic." I huff and she laughs knowingly, calling my bluffs.

"What's with the change of heart?"

I clear my throat awkwardly. I never was very good at keeping things from my sister, she had a knack for reading me like an open book.

"I figured, after the whole Valentines fiasco, that maybe I could be a little nicer to her." I shrug my shoulders in a non-committal way and my sister looks over at me quizzically.

"She won't like that."

"Won't like what? Me being nice?" Am I really that bad at being civil?

"No, she won't like the sympathy. She hates it, that's why she's so vague about everything, she's a really private person and she doesn't want all that fake kindness that comes with being sick." Emily crosses her arms and I ponder what she's said.

"She won't know."

Emily scoffs again and I sigh, out of the loop once again.

"She probably already knows. You're not very subtle, Ben."

I nod at that, she's right. I was never very good at subtlety.

"What do I do, then?"

"Why does this matter so much to you?"

I think about it for a minute and avoid my sisters calculating gaze. I don't have an answer for her, so I just give her a pointed look. She sighs in response.

"Okay, don't tell me. Just treat her the same as you did before."

She shrugs again like it's the simplest answer in the world. I shake my head, my shaggy hair flicking in and out of my peripheral vision reminding me that I need a haircut, desperately.

"I was a dick before."

My sister nods thoughtfully, a frown etched onto her lovely face.

"That's true. She doesn't deserve to be treated like that, I'll never know why you did treat her that way." She muses and I huff, leaning back in my seat.

"Perhaps, just start afresh? You could apologise, get to know her? You have a lot in common."

"We do?" This surprises me, although I'm not sure why it does.

My sister hums in confirmation, gazing into the corridor. I wait a moment for her to elaborate before realising that she doesn't intend on doing so.

"Okay." I mutter to myself, rubbing my hands together and leaning my head against them as I think. That should be easy enough. Right?

I remain with Emily for another 20 minutes or so, my mind contritely wandering from the present situation, although my sister doesn't seem to mind.

A nurse pops her head around the door suddenly and Emily seems to bolt upright.

"It's time for another session, Hon." She remarks apologetically and Emily smiles.

"Now's your chance." She says, elbowing me in the side as I help her into her wheelchair.

"Chance for what?"

"To apologise, idiot."

I grasp her meaning and conscientiously wheel her into the dismal looking room, still as dreary as I remember it.

I hang around uselessly, waiting for 417's arrival. I rub my palms on my jeans, they're unusually clammy and I feel almost anxious.

A few moments later 417 comes crashing into the room, literally. She seems to have wheeled herself into the doorframe and curses lightly, laughing at her situation and trying to rectify her wheels.

I jog over and take the handles firmly. 417 leans her head back and smiles in thanks.

"417, I'm sorry about being snappy with you." I mumble, getting straight to the point as I follow her directions diligently.

"Why?" She asks, almost swivelling round entirely to look at me.

"I'm not usually like that, I didn't mean to come across so hostile, but with Emily and everything..." I trail off, not knowing if my excuse is adequate to excuse my behaviour.

"I understand. Families go through just as much as the person who's sick, I know it's draining. Don't worry about it." She waves it off with an elegant sweep of her hand and I smile lightly, knowing I'm forgiven. She goes to turn back round but hesitates.

"I keep a close eye on her when you're not around, you don't have to worry so much." She pats my hand once; her tone is quiet but very sincere. I've never heard her speak to anyone with such emotion and I feel vaguely pleased that I'm on the receiving end.

She turns around fully and applies her breaks as she greets my sister, pulling out the infamous icepacks and swimming cap.

I wave at them from the door and turn to leave with a slight smile on my face.

I feel as though the weight on my shoulders isn't quite so heavy anymore and I internally thank 417 for the reassurance I didn't know I needed.