Babysitting the Bad Boy's Brother

29

Lena Frasier is one of the classiest women I've ever met. She doesn't live in the largest house or drive the nicest car, yet she is not only envied, but respected by everyone who has met her. From the PTA to the Football booster, Lena was born to be involved as Skylar's- the Quarterback's- mother.

I learned while we were dating that she had given up a high level management position to raise her son, but her negotiating skills and possession of just the right amount of bossiness means she's in put charge of whatever she decides to involve herself in. Even the football coach cowers simply from a purse of her lips. Her golden hair is illuminated by the fluorescent lights like a halo and her pressed blouse and slacks sit on her body like they were created specifically for her. Even as she sits here anxiously, she looks entirely put together, ready to act at any moment.

It's in this moment that I feel vulnerable in my sweatshirt, jeans, and vans, with my hair piled on top of my head chaotically.

Oh god, my hair is blue. I would put my head in my hands out of embarrassment if it wouldn't be so obvious that I was upset. I'm really trying to hold it together here.

But let's face it, Lena probably doesn't approve. She's basically perfect- I've never seen her without styled hair and makeup- just the right amount to give her the appearance of someone half her age.

I, on the other hand, am a H-O-T hot mess. I couldn't even hold it together for like, ten fucking minutes.

Since I've been sitting here, and it's been a while, I've worked really hard to breathe like a normal person. I'm nearly successful.

Nearly.

Devon is asleep beside me, with his mouth hanging open and a small snore escaping from it.

I put my head down and rest it in my hands. The hospital at night is an evil place. Visiting hours are long over, so really it's just a building full of worried families (like us) and the people who are sick or dying (like Skylar). And most importantly, it's quiet. Too quiet without the noise of the outside world.

I check the time on my slowly dying phone for the fifth time in the past hour. 3:07. Huh. Guess it's only been in the past ten minutes.

The dreadful hours have passed incredibly slowly, with me passing the time by talking to Lena or being on my phone. Hence the near dead battery.

I get up and wander the hallway aimlessly. Lena is resting her head on her husband's shoulder, but I don't fool myself into thinking she's asleep. No mother could sleep on this night.

I find my way to a drinking fountain and shakily lower myself down to take a sip. I really wish I had my hydro right now, my mouth is dry and I'm constantly wishing for a drink of water. The fact that I have to get up every time I need to get a drink would be annoying if the movement weren't the only thing keeping me from exploding.

The doctor comes out as I'm walking back, and I hurry over to catch what he's saying.

"..went well. We will of course be monitoring him for brain bleeds and additional swelling. We expect Skylar to make a full recovery, but we have some concerns regarding his memory. The majority of patients who need this surgery do have trouble with their memories, but almost all issues resolve completely within two to six months."

"What.. kind of memory issues?" Skyler's dad puts his arm around his wife.

"We aren't sure, it could be anything, or he could be completely fine. We'll know when he wakes up and is no longer sedated. You should get some rest, come back in the morning, he won't be awake for quite some time."

"I'll stay." Lena says, "Devon, take Claire home please. Thank you for being here for my boy." She stands up and hugs us. "Visiting hours open at 8."

"I don't know if I can sleep.." I trail off. This has been a dreadful night.