Dear Nate {Dear #1}

-Chapter 17-

            “No, I’m going to do this. I’m just, slightly, nervous.”

            I pat his back before going inside, Scott right behind me. We take the elevator up to Alison’s floor where the nurses immediately greet me.

            Scott gives me a shocked look. “How often do you come here?”

            I shrug. “Once every other day,” I answer before passing the nurse desk b Alison’s room. “Hi guys,” I say. “This is my friend, Scott, and we’re here to see Alison. Is her family here?”

            This one elderly nurse shakes her head. “Nope. They left about an hour ago.”

            That’s good. Scott doesn’t have to feel as nerve to meet her family.

            “Thanks. We’ll visit for a little while before leaving,” I respond and waving goodbye before heading to her room.  

            When we get in Alison’s room, I take the seat beside her bed and look up to see Scott frozen at the doorway. He looks nervous. He’s twirling his fingers and looking at the foot of Alison’s bed.

            “You don’t have to be here,” I say. “You can wait in the cafeteria while I visit. I won’t be long.”

            Scott shakes his head and walks the rest of the way in with determination. He takes a deep breath before slowly turning his head to see Alison. When he does, his posture deflates. He curses under his breath and wraps his arms around himself. “S-She looks the same, that’s good.”

            I’m not going to respond with a snarky comment because he’ processing seeing Alison for the first time since the accident.

            Scott walks to the seat beside mine and sits down. “She looks better than I thought she would.” I turn and look at him, so he adds, “In a good way.”

            “Are you not as nervous anymore?”

            Scott lets out a nervous breath. “No, I’m okay. I was just nervous seeing what she looked like. I’m happy she isn’t badly injured.”

            “When she wakes up and out of the hospital she’ll need to do physical therapy for who knows how many weeks. I hope she wakes up this week so she’ll be able to go to college in the fall,” I say, looking at Alison.

            Her mom brushed her hair again, which you can tell, because it’s laid neatly passed her chest. Alison’s hair has grown out during this time. I wonder if she’ll cut it once she wakes up. The bruises on her arms are almost gone, which is a good sign. I just want her to wake up already.

            “Are you going to be here prom night? Instead of the dance,” Scott asks beside me.   

            I shrug. “I don’t know. I might go to the dance single, but I don’t know if I’ll enjoy it when you guys have dates.”

            “You can always get a date just for prom night?” he suggests timidly.

            I shake my head. “I can’t. I won’t.”

            “We aren’t dating her, but I understand how your feelings have changed. I just don’t want you hurt when she wakes up. What if she doesn’t want to date you? Since college is coming up and I don’t know what college she’s going to, what if she lets you go emotionally because she doesn’t want to hold you back?”

            I know where Scott’s coming from and it just makes this situation worse. I wish I would’ve gotten my act together earlier in high school and realize how I felt about Alison. Now, it may be too late to date.

            “Her dad said she’s going somewhere a couple hours north,” I say. “She may be going to a college close to mine. It can work out between us.”

            “How are you going to tell her that you read her journal?”

            “I just will—when the time is right.” My annoyance is rising and I hope Scott doesn’t keep asking these questions. “I’ll worry about it when she wakes up.”

            Silence fell over us. With Scott here, I feel awkward talking to Alison. So when Scott gets up to go get food, it gives me a few minutes to talk before I go down to join Scott for lunch. I tell Alison about the game and our win, how my father came home and surprised me, and the trip to Scott’s family cabin. It felt nice talking about it, even if she doesn’t respond. Once I’m done, I say goodbye to Alison then the nurses.

            “See you later,” I say, waving goodbye.

            “Nate,” one of the nurses calls my name.

            I turn around and see her motioning for me to come to her. I do and ask, “Is everything okay?”

            She nods and smiles. “Are you excited to hear she may wake up soon?”    

            “I wish she’d wake up now if I had my way.”

            The nurse chuckles. “She sure is lucky to have a boyfriend like you.”

            I debate rather I should correct her. And as I look into her innocent, elderly face, I know I can’t lie to her. “Oh, um, I’m not her boyfriend.” She gives me a confused look before I add, “I plan to be though. If she wants to.”

            The smile returns to the woman’s face. “You’re such a sweet boy. Alison is lucky, or will be, lucky to have you.”

            Will she? After all these years are ignoring her will she give me a chance?