Opposites attract

Don't hospitals just suck

Like the receptionists warned, nothing changed for a long time. It had been 5 days. Adren, Nathen and Alex only showed up once every couple of days to check in. Lucas was always there when I was, but I knew it he thought it was pointless. No one was going to tell us anything.

My mom had pleaded for me to spend the nights at home and so had my dad, but I refused. I was set on staying at the hospital as long as Chris was. Thursday morning though, Lucas had to leave to meet up with his mother. Everything with his dad who was out of prison was still going on. They'd finalized the restraining orders, but they still had to meet with lawyers for some other legal stuff, Lucas didn't get it so that's how he'd explained it.

It was just me in the waiting room. That had to be expected though, no one else was behaving as unreasonably as me. I only left when I had to shower and change, everything else was done at the hospital. I was surprised I hadn't been kicked out yet, but the receptionists probably felt sorry for me, I was almost sure they'd thought about giving me a check up for my mental health, given the way I was behaving.

The waiting room was staring to get very familiar and very boring. Everything was the same every day. Pale blue walls, miss matching couches and chairs, a short black table in the center with stacks of magazines on it and a grey nylon carpet. There was nothing interesting to rest my eyes on so they were closed most of the time.

I was in and out of sleep, I hadn't gotten a full 8 hours sleep at night since the accident, but instead I'd had 30 minute naps at random points during the day when my brain wasn't on overdrive.

It was one of the few times that I had my eyes open when I heard the receptionist talking to a middle aged lady with blonde curls and blue eyes. She had bags under her eyes and I could tell the creases on her forehead arrived more recently.
"Would it be possible for us to get another blanket for my son? He says he's cold" the ladies voice was hushed and breathy. She sounded like she'd rather not be talking.

"Yes, of course. I'll send one over right now. That's Samuels, correct?" The receptionist scribbled something on a yellow sticky note while the lady just nodded once.
"Alright, I'll have it to you right away".

I sat up straighter and stared at the blonde woman who suddenly looked very familiar. Maybe it was the fact that the last name Samuels was somehow related to her, but I could've bet anything that she was Chris' mom, or aunt or something.

I didn't hesitate when I pushed myself off the sofa and stumbled to the hallway where the blonde lady had began walking.
"Um...excuse me?" My heart was racing against my chest and my palms were hot and moist.

The woman turned and stared at me impatiently. "I don't mean to bother you, it's just...well, I was wondering if you're by any chance here for Chris? Chris Samuels?" I never would've normally done this to a stranger, but not knowing how Chris was was killing me and the receptionists obviously weren't planning on telling me anything.

"Yes, that's my son" she answered hesitantly.
I bit down on my lip before asking, "is he...is he okay?"
She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, "and who exactly are you?"
"My name's Blakely, Blakely Wood. I'm a friend of Chris'" I stumbled over my words as I scurried to get an answer out of her.

"Chris has never mentioned you" she scanned me up and down, had I not been completely preoccupied, I would've felt a little self conscious in my old faded blue jeans and a tee paired with distressed sneakers.
"We only became friends recently...look, I've been here since Monday night, when the accident happened. I've barely left this place because I just want to know if he's okay" I begged.

Her annoyed expression wavered for a moment then she settled back into a hard glare. She looked over my shoulder and sighed, "5 minutes".

It took me a moment to realize she was talking to one of the receptionists who probably thought I was harassing her or something. I had to clamp my hands together to keep from jumping up and down and clapping like an excited little girl.