Roommates with a Player

Chapter Forty Four: Kisses in Hospitals

            “The patient you’re asking for is in Room 409,” the nurse replied to my rushed question.

            I grunted thanks and scooted my way to Nathan’s room. It probably wasn’t smart to start running through the bleak hospital hallways, but I was edging towards desperate. I slid to a stop in the ICU, looking for the room numbers. Finally, at the end, I came to his door.

            My fingers wrapped around the doorknob, gripping it tightly until my knuckles turned white. I stood frozen in spot, staring at the wooded door, finding patterns and faces in the carvings.

            What was holding me back? Why did I need to be so dramatic about this? Well, it sort of was a dramatic moment…my potential lover and dying best friend were both in the same room. Yeah, that could make a girl freeze up.

            “Oh, what the hell,” I muttered, twisting the knob and swinging it open.

            My entrance was made public by the loud squeal the door made upon opening. I winced at how horribly piercing it was.

            My eyes immediately found Nathan, who appeared to be asleep on his white, sterile bed. His blond hair was matted to his forehead and his skin was looking paler than usual: obviously not a good sign.

            I stepped inside, all my thoughts focusing on my best friend. Should I wake him? Should I wait until he gets up himself? What if he doesn’t? These questions swirled inside my brain like a cotton candy machine. I reached the foot of his bed, clasping the cool metal frame.

            His breathing was calm, but shallow. The steady beep-beep-beep of the machines he was plugged up to made me want to hurl. Several IVs were connected to him, making him look like an experiment made by a mad scientist. It was almost sickening. Vases of flowers and cards littered the bedside table, most likely from his parents…his poor parents.

            A soft cough shattered the silence and I jumped, automatically looking at the direction it’d come from.

             And like those cheesy soap operas where the lovers are reunited again, my heart leapt up to my throat and my mouth opened slightly, letting out a small gasp. We met each other’s glances and even though we were about twenty feet away from each other, I could see the vast chocolate ocean that seemed to sway in those large, glassy eyes of his. I let myself drift away in that ocean, sinking from the surface and slowly descending until I touched the bottom. It was a feeling like nothing else. I’d missed those eyes and I could tell he’d missed mine from the way he was staring at me like I was an angel of some sort.

            I had to tear myself away from his eyes to look at the rest of him. He’d aged, but only slightly. He had some stubble and he’d grown his hair out, but nothing much had changed. I was expecting a beard or some crazy highlights in his hair compared to James, but he was still his same self. His clothes looked rumbled and he probably hadn’t changed in a few days. Oh well. I probably wouldn’t bother to change if I was in his shoes.

            It was still the old Ricky I’d known…

            “S-so,” I started, rather roughly. “How’s he doing?”

            Yes, small talk was good. There was no need to rush into the ooey-gooey details.

            It took a while for Ricky to comprehend that I’d just said something to him. He blinked, cleared his throat, and started telling me about the diagnosis.