A Rose by Any Other Name

Chapter 2

"I have legs, man. I don't need that." The cast on my arm and leg were enough. I could hobble with my crutch just fine. The practice I'd been doing in my room had to be worth something.

"Derrick..." Mike trailed off, looking tired suddenly, golden lashes lowered. It occurred to me that this was the first time he seemed annoyed with me.

I almost felt bad as I dropped myself into the chair. "Onward." I said dryly, raising my not broken arm. Alright, so maybe he won this battle, but, I wasn't about to just do whatever he wanted when he felt like it.

Mike began wheeling me out of the room and then progressively out of the hospital. I saw actual sick people on the way out; emaciated bodies and bald heads, stumps and oxygen masks. I felt foolish suddenly, wondering about a lot of things.

Fresh, cool air struck my face when we got outside. The discharge exit to the hospital was surprisingly empty. There was a car waiting and my heart started racing in my chest.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Mike stopped pushing the wheel chair and came around to help me out. I looked at him and he hesitated, noticing the fear on my face.

"I can't-" I whispered, the rest of the words getting lost in my throat. My head began aching as my heart did zig zags in my chest reminding me that I got hit by a fucking car. I looked at the grey eyes looking back at mine. "I don't- I don't even remember. But, part of me clearly does." I laughed weakly. "Fucking hell."

Mike knelt in front of me, touching my knees with his hands. I looked at them, veiny and large and lumberjack-reminiscent. He squeezed my knee. "It'll be fine. You'll be okay." The way he said it, all sweet and comforting just made it worse.

I looked at this guy I didn't know, not understanding why I felt comforted by a stranger.

Mike helped me into the car, saying an address I didn't know to the driver. My seatbelt felt too tight and my rib cage felt like it was constricting my chest. It wasn't being in the car, but the fact I was surrounded by other ones, all around me; box cars of death. I closed my eyes, breathing harshly. My arm was hanging limply by my side before I felt strong fingers interlace with mine. I thought of letting go but it felt too good. Too nice.

I looked away from Mike as we held hands, pretending that if I wasn't looking it wasn't happening. Mike was running the pad of his thumb over mine and it suddenly felt entirely too intimate. I looked to him and it seemed like he hadn't even noticed he was doing it. He was swiping distractedly on his cell phone, squinting at something.

My heart was still beating too fast but maybe for an entirely different reason.

We rolled up to a questionable looking apartment complex. There was graffiti on the walls and the roads were narrow and poorly maintained.

"Don't tell me you live here?" He seemed to be above living in a shit stain like this.

Mike laughed deeply, inadvertently squeezing my hand. "You live here! I keep telling you to move, too. " But then he sighed dramatically. "Cheap rent isn't everything, Dee. You should buy a home, lay down some roots." He gave me a long look then.

I let go of his hand, ignoring the way his lips curved downwards at the loss of contact. I struggled out of the car, hobbling briskly towards the entrance of the dilapidated building.