Little Things

Chapter 31

"So what kind of tests is she gonna have to take?" Niall asks.

"Simple mind games based on memory, skill, and other tasks. But, it won't be very accurate unless you have taken it before to see improvement or the entire opposite. Have you?" I shake my head and he sighs.

"Well, we will work with what we have," this time I nod. Never in my life would I think I would have to take a concussion test. Ever.

But then again never in my life would I have believe I would be sitting in a hospital room, laying in a gurney after getting in a major car crash because I stupidly drove drunk on a main road. Oh and the best part? With a famous boy band member from Europe.

My life is a screwed up mess.

Maybe I should write a book on it someday.

"How about her ankle? Will she need crutches? A wheelchair? I could carry her if that's easiest," Niall says and my face blushes.

"We will give her crutches," the doctor says, unphased by his offering to carry me everywhere.

"And how long will it take to have her bruises and cuts heal? Will they get infected? Is it dangerous?" Niall rambles and the doctor puts his hand out in front of him, signaling him to stop, yet the way he gestures, it is still quite nice.

"I deal with protective boyfriends all the time. Miss Parker will be better in no time. Everything will be taken care of, just let me do my job and I will let you do yours," he says and my once pink cheeks blaze a firey red.

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend," I blurt.

"Well, whatever you are, just relax. And that's to the both of you," he replies. "So get some rest because it's barely eight in the morning right now. And your injuries aren't going to heal themselves without taking care of your own body."

Doctor Jameson walks towards the door leading outside with his rolling cart in front of him. "Nurse Lynn is helping this floor today. Press the red button on the remote next to the bed if you need her. I'll be checking up on you when I can. Feel better Miss Parker," he announces, and then leaves.

I shut my eyes, trying to make all of this craziness go away. But when I re open them, everything is still the same. It was a nice try, though.

"What day of the week is it?" I ask, not having a clue.

"Wednesday," Niall replies.

"Shit, I have work today!" I shout, frantic.

"Uh-actually, you don't," Niall says quietly, forcing his gaze at the tiled floor.

"I work Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday mornings at the diner," I inform him, yet he still seems uneasy.

"Is there something I don't know about?"

"Well...I figured you had work today, and so I searched up the phone to the diner and called asking for the manager," the moment these words slip out of his mouth, I can already foreshadow the rest of the story. "and explained everything that happened, and then told her who I was, and then told me that I was bull shitting her and to tell you to never come back because you were no longer working there."

I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale sharply. I hated that job, more than anything. Actually, I take that back. I have never minded serving people food, and the atmosphere was fine. But I hated Shirley with a burning passion. Yet, it was paying a lot of my bills. I need that money.

"Are you mad?" he asks softly.

"No, I'm not mad. You tried to help," I say, even though I am a tiny bit frustrated.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive Niall. You were only trying to help me," I explain and he smiles.

"That's a relief! I thought you were going to shoot me or something when I told you! I nearly had a heart attack when that bit-sorry, woman told me you were fired."

"Yeah, she's not the friendliest..." I trail off.

I turn to my bed stand to find the roses in a glass vase Niall had bought me, and then taken back once I basically drove him out of my apartment. I take my phone that lays next to the vase. I have a missed text from Kevin but I shut it off before I get the chance to read it. It can't be that important. More important than being here and my own safety for that matter.

"So why are you here?" I ask him.

"Didn't you already ask me this?"

"Well, I mean, not the literal answer. Why did you come? Why didn't you just let me ride on the ambulance alone?" I want an honest answer. I don't even care if it was out of pity. Well, maybe I do, a little bit.

"I don't understand you Allyson, or should I say, Miss Parker," he teases.

"What don't you understand?"

"Everything. One thing I don't understand, is why you don't grasp the obvious," he says with a chuckle.

"The obvious?"

"If you have to ask what the obvious is, then you don't see it. You look into things too much. Don't do that. Take everything from at the surface and dive deeper, don't cannonball into everything so quickly. It won't take you anywhere but sinking to the bottom."

"Wow, that was deep. No pun intended."

He laughs to himself and stares back down at the floor before meeting my eyes. Our focus locks on eachother until he looks away towards the window behind him.

"This city is really beautiful," he gasps.

He's right. Boston is beautiful. Especially with this view. For a hospital room, it's not bad. The sun is only partially risen, because of the late September skies changing the sunrise and sunset hours, but it is still beautiful. I can only imagine how the buildings light up at night from out of this window. Cars pass by far below, and you can see some streets are a lot more crowded than others. Rush hour problems. Perks of walking to work. Or, I won't have to anymore.

"Yeah," I agree.

"If I wasn't so addicted to my home country, I would definitely consider living here," my butterflies flutter at the thought of having him live here. So close, no matter where in the city we would still be within a handful of miles apart.

"Ireland is pretty cool though, afterall," I say truthfully. Ireland is gorgeous; the castles, the farms, even the people.

And don't even get me started on the accents.