Parallel Lines

In Here

 On rainy days, Belen cursed fate and the stars even more so than she did usually.

One of the things no one had warned her about (as if a bunch of people had gone through a near-death experience like hers) were the random bursts of pain in her lower back when the weather got too cold. After the accident, her back had been entirely shattered, her bones broken beyond repair, but somehow, miraculously, the doctors had been able to get her up and moving in less than two years. Two long years without dancing, drinking, and unfortunately, sex. Her boyfriend had been a saint, thank goodness, but Belen herself was the one growing impatient: they had been together for two long fruitless years, whereas most couples were even lucky to get past the first month without getting busy. But she stopped herself from thinking like that, since after all, there were worse things.

For one, the random back pains on rainy days absolutely sucked. She'd had a screw inserted in her lower back after the accident pulverized her spine, and below a certain temperature threshold, it was as if the metal insert begged for attention: it pressed on every single nerve in the proximity, pleading to be felt, and sending poor Belen right into bed rest again, only recently after she'd been cleared for walking. On days like those, she hated fate and the stars even more than usual.

"Owowow," she winced, as her boyfriend, Kevin, placed, a hot pad on her lower back.

"Here, hold my hand. You can squeeze it as hard as you want if you're in pain," he said, knowing well he would later regret it: Belen was a strong woman, and she was truly agonizing.

"That's so sweet of you-ow!," she pursed her rosy lips to stop a long stream of obscenities from flowing out, "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"Sit still, nerd," he teased. 

Being on bed rest, Belen discovered she had a tremendous amount of free time to dedicate to her studies and whatever she pleased to do afterwards. In two years, she'd already completed several of the requirements towards her degree, online, and watched a few anime series. Not having to stand up to use the toilet, although terribly humbling and even embarrassing, was a huge time saver, she'd come to discover. However, Belen would have preferred doing chores and having to go to an actual bathroom rather than sitting in her own bodily waste for hours, sometimes, and having a gazillion nurses see her bare bum.  She knew they were all professionals, but she couldn't help but wonder if they ever judged. One day, towards the end of her stay at the hospital, she worked up the guts to ask, under the influence of liquid courage, also known as a relatively large dose of her painkillers. 

"Yo Janice, how does my ass compare to others?"

"It's nice. Don't get too confident though, you're also significantly younger than most of my patients," Janice had answered.

"Darn, that's real, Jan," Belen replied, with a wide smile that reached from ear to ear. She'd been one of her doctors' favorites because of her unwavering sense of humor, cracking jokes even when she was in the most pain. One of Belen's favorite anecdotes to casually drop at parties as of recently was about the time she was admitted to the hospital right after her car accident: she'd asked the nurse if her eye shadow was still intact (unfortunately, it was not). 

It all happened so fast and so suddenly: one second, she was on a car with her friends from high school, coming back from a not-so-exciting squash tournament, and then, she was lying in the ground, covered in glass shards. Belen did not hear, see or feel anything: the world had gone black to her,  as she'd already accepted her own death. But she was not ready to leave: not just yet. Even though she'd gotten the worst deal out of her friends in the car, Belen was the first one to wake up at the hospital, covered in bandages and stitches. For the first ten days following her accident, every single inch of her body was in pain, ready to burst, she felt. During those moments, she truly regretted ever being born, but all the while, she recalled her psychic mother's words: it was all destiny. Her mom believed in all kinds of whimsy destiny and astrology concepts, and while Belen also liked to dabble in them from time to time, she hardly ever took things as coolly as her mother: did the accident have to form part of her story? Other than helping her grow aware of several parts of her body (because they hurt), the accident had not really done much for Belen.

"Yo Kevin,how does my ass compare to others?" she felt the urge to ask that very moment, when his hand was very close to it, holding the hot pad to her bare lower back.

"What the hell, Belen?" he asked, but even though she could not see him, he also smiled a little. No college boy ever dreamed of taking care of their ill first girlfriend from the start of freshman year, but Kevin would not have it any other way: her lame jokes and care-free attitude were worth all the sleepless nights and patience (and even the celibacy).

"Well, you know, I'm kind of broken right now but you still stick with me, so I figure it must be because I have a nice ass," she replied.

"I'm not going to answer that," he said.

"Why not? It's okay to say it, repeat after me: Belen, I love your ass."

"The pain killers are making you woozy," Kevin said, as-a-matter-of-factly.

She pursed her lips at him and glared from above her glasses, "bo-ringg."

"Belen, I love you."

"I love you too."