C H A P T E R 5 | K A T I E
I froze as soon as I heard my name slip from Dean's lips.
The last time I'd seen him he'd been experiencing difficulty with his vision, though after returning home, I'd not thought to check in on the progress of his healing. It was evident that, while I highly suspected his sight was not fully back to normal, he'd definitely gained a fraction of it back.
It seemed as though, in that moment, everyone's eyes were on me as I let the door swing shut behind me.
"So you do know her?" the little girl sitting beside Dean on the bed asked, flitting her gaze questioningly between the two of us.
I finally gained the courage to meet Dean's squinted gaze, and even in their damaged state, I could feel his eyes piercing right through me.
"Yeah..." Dean trailed slowly, though his facial expression was blank as he continued, "We met the night of the accident."
The air in the room became heavier as I sucked in a breath, receiving curious looks from Dean's parents as no one sought to reply.
Though, as the seconds ticked by, it was Claudia, with full professionalism, who broke the silence with an encouraging smile. "How about we complete this check-up?" she asked, directing her words towards Dean, "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," Dean said.
Claudia nodded, turning back to me as she hovered at his bedside, nodding towards the door. "Do you mind grabbing his dinner while I check his vitals?" she asked, though the look she was sending me was clear. It said 'I'm giving you a chance to duck out for a few minutes, so take it.'
"Sure," I stuttered, and while I tried to play it cool, I'm sure everyone in the room realized that, as I turned on my heel, my pace was rushed.
Stepping out into the hall, I took a left at the end of the hallway before halting my steps and leaning back against the wall of the empty corridor. The silence seemed somehow suffocating in a way, as the hustle and bustle of the rest of the hospital ceased to exist and my thoughts became louder.
Just yesterday I'd experienced the unthinkable as I stepped into Dean's room to see him lying on the bed. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to think, but after hearing what he'd gone through, I'd told myself that I wouldn't get involved. That I'd keep it professional – act as his nurse and nothing more.
I certainly hadn't expected to show up to work today and for him to be able to see me. Hearing my name had worried me, but at the same time, it had also sent a brief spark of happiness through me, knowing that the accident hadn't completely messed with his memory.
But that wasn't something I could dwell on at the moment, and as I continued my way towards the cafeteria, there was a new purpose to my step. My first priority was to do my job, but maybe, when I found the time, and the courage, I'd stop by Dean's room as a friend. He may not need the extra support, but I'd be there to offer it if the need arose.
Despite my new found determination, I still took my time returning to Dean's room once I collected his meal. Pushing open the door to his room, I immediately felt the underlying awkwardness in the atmosphere. The curious eyes of his family members followed me as I stepped up to Dean's bedside, my head ducked in shyness as Claudia finished up his check-up.
I wanted to say something – anything – as I situated the tray of food on Dean's lap, but his facial features were immensely impassive, betraying no clues as to what he was thinking. Staying silent, I could feel the weight of his gaze as I turned and followed Claudia out of the room.
"You know that you don't have to tend to patients that you know, right?" Claudia asked, though she didn't turn to face me as the question left her lips. She was focused solely on finishing up the paperwork in her hands as we headed further down the corridor.
I let out a deep breath. "It's fine," I admitted, and while my voice sounded stern, my insides were jumbling with nerves.
"Are you sure?" she continued, glancing back at me with a raised eyebrow as she exchanged clipboards with another nurse.
"Positive," I said with affirmation, tilting my lips upwards, "I don't know him that well anyways." The words left an unfamiliar taste on my tongue, because although it was the truth – I'd only spoken to him once – it felt as though a connection had been built in that short amount of time.
It was clear that Claudia didn't completely believe me, though she didn't push any farther, which I was grateful for. She simply nodded in acceptance before leading me further down the corridor, giving me hope that, with other patients to tend to, the rest of this shift would fly by.
−−−−−−−−−−
I spent a majority of that night tossing and turning underneath my covers. My mind just wouldn't shut off, and for some reason, every time I closed my eyes, all I saw were glimpses of a car crash. I figured this was my subconscious urging me to just talk with Dean, but when I got out of bed for work the following morning, sluggishly and yawning frequently, I wished there was a simpler way.
I just wasn't ready.
Or maybe I was, but I was much too shy, and couldn't fathom what to say.
It was times like these that I wished my house wasn't so empty – when I wished that Theo hadn't moved halfway across the world, and I wished my mom hadn't gotten sick. Because as much as I appreciated the friendship that Stella and I had, I couldn't find it in me to let her know about Dean yet, or more so, I didn't even know how to bring it up.
That's how, even with a minimal amount of rest, I found myself heading to work an hour earlier than need be, but as I walked through the sliding doors of the hospital, instead of heading for the break room, I took the elevator up to my mom's room.
Every time I visited, there was always the voice in the back of my head that urged me to think positively. That somehow, overnight, maybe she'd made a miraculous recovery, but similar to every other time, my hopes were dashed as I pushed open the door to her room to see her lying still in her bed, the same as she always was.
I let the door fall shut, taking a seat in my normal chair next to her bed.
"Good morning mom," I said softly, as I readjusted a bit of her bedding. "I guess I just wanted to let some stuff off my chest, and even if you're not awake, I knew that you'd be willing to listen."
After all, even the strongest people needed someone to lean on during tough times.
"So, I guess I should start off with the fact that I met a guy a few nights back," I admitted. It was a sentence that I hadn't spoken since high school, before everything in my life began to fall off of its axis. It seemed foreign coming from my lips, but I still felt a light heat dust across my cheeks as I ducked my head and continued. "Stella dragged me out to another one of her parties, and while she was off flirting as usual, Dean just seemed to be there. He was nice, funny, and everything just seemed effortless that night. I left with a smile on my face, but when I turned up for work the next day, he ended up lying in bed as one of my patients."
I continued on, telling her all I knew about the accident and his current condition.
"It's complicated," I sighed, once I realized I only had about ten minutes left before my shift was due to start. "I want to see him get better, but I don't know how much support I can give when I barely know him."
"Anyways," I trailed, "I'd better get going, but I'll be back tomorrow, alright?"
Squeezing her hand gently as my eyes scanned her face, I noticed, not for the first time, how peaceful she seemed when she was asleep. The odd times I dropped by to see her awake, she'd be talking to doctors, stress lines creasing her already pale skin, and the ghost of a frown would almost always grace her lips. While resting however, she was just as beautiful as the days when she used to sing in the kitchen while baking with Theo and I.
Bringing my free hand up to wipe the stray tears that had escaped over the past hour, I went to pull my hand from hers when I felt the faint pressure of hers latching onto mine. My eyes flashed up to her face quickly, wondering if she was awake, but when she showed no further signs of consciousness, a smile twitched on my lips.
Maybe she'd heard me, and maybe she hadn't, but either way, as I made my way down to meet Claudia and start my shift, I couldn't help but think that maybe that small gesture was a sign that things with Dean would work themselves out – one way or another.
−−−−−−−−−−
For training purposes, in the days that led up to the start of my school term, I was scheduled with daily shifts to adjust to my role as a nursing assistant. It was easy to get familiar with the main gist of the job, but things like proper drug dosages, where to store certain files, and memorizing the different medical routines of each patient were much more complex.
It seemed as though I was learning something new every day, and while I was nervous to begin juggling school and my job, Claudia assured me that I'd be just fine making the adjustment. After all, my shifts would start to become shorter, and I'd been taken off the on-call list until my classes ended.
And although thoughts of Dean were very much still floating around my mind, it was seldom that Claudia and I would visit his room. Whether it was due to scheduling, or because Claudia had mentioned to someone that I knew him, it didn't matter. I still hadn't managed to speak more than two words to him at a time, and anything that minimized the awkwardness and tension was a plus in my mind.
When Monday finally rolled around, and my alarm clock went off just after seven, I felt reenergized. It had sunk in that this would be the last year that I'd be stuck sitting in a classroom, because once the next eight months passed, there would no more weekly lectures or tedious lab reports.
It was bizarre to think about, and somewhat scary, but as I pulled myself out of bed and headed for the shower, I didn't dwell on it.
After I had pulled on a pair of shorts and a striped t-shirt, my phone dinged with a text from Stella, telling me that she was just leaving her place and would be here to pick me up in a few minutes.
Typing out a quick reply, I threw a few of my notebooks, my wallet, and a cardigan into my bag, while making sure I hadn't forgotten anything. Minutes later, I was waiting on the sidewalk outside my apartment building when I saw Stella's car round the corner and roll to a stop right in front of me.
I'd barely managed to close the passengers' door when Stella pulled back onto the road.
"In a hurry?" I asked teasingly, having become used to her style of driving over the years.
She rolled her eyes as I fastened my seatbelt, only turning to look my way when she came to a red light. "You seem to forget that getting up this early for class is not something I enjoy."
"Which constitutes the question as to why you chose early classes on a Monday?"
"I didn't have a choice," she grumbled, causing me to laugh as the traffic began to move. "What kind of professor only teaches on Monday mornings? I don't know how he thinks everyone will be able to stay awake for three hours."
"Doesn't your class only start at nine?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, as I vaguely remembered helping her with her schedule a few months previous.
"Yeah," she said, raising an eyebrow, "What's your point?"
I shook my head with amusement. "Because for someone who claims to hate the mornings, you picked me up more than an hour earlier than you needed to."
As she flipped on her signal and slowly took a right, heading for the university, she gave me a look that I couldn't quite decipher – with her eyebrow raised and her gaze pointed.
"That's because we're stopping by William's for breakfast, and you're going to tell me what's been going on with you the past couple of days." Her words caused my throat to go dry for a moment as my eyes widened. Her gaze flitted back towards me for a moment, though her irises were now much softer. "Did you really think you could hide something from me? Give me a bit of credit. I've known you since you were thirteen – I know when something's bothering you."
Stuck for a reply, I felt an ounce of guilt begin to worm its way around the pit of my stomach. If I was being honest, Stella and I usually didn't keep things from each other. She was always forthcoming with information, even when it was something I didn't needed to know, mainly regarding details about whatever guy she was with at the moment, but I was always quieter. The last time I'd kept a secret from her had been the summer before we started university, when my mom had fallen ill. Even then, she'd picked up on my mood swings and sudden unwillingness to go out, so it shouldn't have surprised me that she managed to figure out I was hiding something.
I sighed, resting my head in my hand as my gaze stayed glued to the window. "I'll explain everything once we get there."
Seemingly satisfied, the sound of the radio filled the remaining minutes of the ride, covering the otherwise heavy silence that surrounded us.
When she pulled into the William's parking lot, the both of us headed inside without saying a word, in fact, neither of said anything until the waitress headed back towards the kitchen with our orders.
"So... are you going to tell me what's been on your mind, or am I going to have to start guessing?" Stella quipped.
And that was how everything came out.
It was easier to explain things to Stella than it had been to my mom – mostly due to the fact that she'd been there the night of the party. As I spoke about the crash, and how Dean was still in recovery at the hospital, her expression turned pale with disbelief.
"And you've kept this all to yourself since you found out?" Stella exclaimed after a short lapse of silence between us. Her voice was loud enough to echo across the café, causing me to turn and send an apologetic look to the surrounding customers.
"I spoke about it with my mom," I offered, though my voice was quiet as I slumped lower in my seat. She knew everything about my mom's condition, including the fact that I often talked to her when she was sleep. "I didn't know what to say I guess," I continued, "I mean, I didn't expect to go into work and see him there. It just sort of threw me off."
Her gaze held sympathy as her lips pulled upwards with a supportive smile. "Of course it did," Stella replied. "You didn't even have to tell me what happened that night at the party between you two, I could just tell by the smile you had on your face when we were driving home that you were happy."
I felt colour flood my cheeks as the waitress returned with two coffees, resting a mug in front of both of us as I ducked my head, letting a few strands of hair fall in front of my face.
"So, have you talked to him?"
My head snapped up and a frown creased my forehead. "Hmm?"
"Dean," she said softly, taking a sip of her coffee before continuing, "Have you talked to him at all?"
My grasp tightened around my mug as I shook my head slowly.
Stella's gaze turned curious at my response. "Why not? I'm sure he wants to know that you care enough about him to check in on him."
"The only times I've seen him over the past week are when I'm bringing him his pain medication or his food, and it doesn't really seem as though he particularly wants to start a conversation with me."
Stella shrugged. "Sometimes it's the girl that's got to make the first move," she said an encouraging smile flashing across her face before she sighed and looked down at her drink. "At least now I know why Holden didn't answer my texts a few days back."
I straightened up in my chair as I realized that, even though Dean was the one who'd been injured, Holden probably hadn't known what to do once he found out that his best friend had been in a car crash.
"I honestly haven't seen him around the hospital Stells."
She shook her head to clear her mind. "Don't worry about it," she said, "Besides, I'm sure it wouldn't have gone anywhere anyways. But you, missy, have to talk to Dean, and soon."
Realizing that she simply didn't want to talk about it, I took the hint. "And how do you suppose I do that?" I asked jokingly, though I really was open to any suggestion she had, because currently, courage was something I significantly lacked.
"Well," she started, pausing as she sought to rack her brain around an idea, "Do you still have that hoodie he leant you? You could always go and return it after a shift."
Her idea began to turn the cogs in my mind, and as I realized that it wasn't such a horrible plan, I noticed the satisfied smirk that Stella wore as she saw me contemplating it.
I stayed silent, choosing not to reply, and though the conversation dropped as our breakfast finally arrived, I found her idea circling the back of my mind. It was definitely something I could consider, because really, what could go wrong?
−−−−−−−−−−
As the first week of classes passed in blink of an eye, I managed to stay on top of the pile of assignments I'd been given, but when it came to Dean, there had still been no progress made.
I knew he was healing, that much was obvious from his extended stay in the hospital, but from what I'd gathered from Claudia, he was being released over the weekend, which meant there was only a small window of opportunity left for me to talk to him.
Over the course of the week, I'd managed to slowly build up enough courage, and as my shift ended on Saturday afternoon, I lingered around the break room, waiting until the last bit of willpower found its way into my heart.
"You're still here?" Whirling around, I saw Claudia coming out from the bathrooms, changed out of her scrubs with her bag slung over her shoulder. "I would've thought that you'd be out of here as soon as possible to catch the bus."
"Umm, no," I stuttered, "I'm actually going to visit someone, so I'm sticking around for a while."
Her eyebrows raised, and while I knew that she was aware my mom was residing a few floors up, there was a certain gleam that sparked in her eyes, telling me she clearly knew it wasn't my mom I was waiting around for.
"So, you're waiting until the day he checks out to go talk to him?" she guessed, a sly smile on her face as she nodded to the sweater that was hanging in my locker that was clearly too big for me. "Cutting it a bit close, aren't you?"
I smiled sheepishly, ignoring the blush that graced my face. "Better late than never, right?"
Claudia laughed as she shook her head in amusement. "Have a good night Katie," she said, waving goodbye as she headed for the door, "And good luck."
"Thanks," I replied, dropping my voice to a whisper as the door swung shut behind her to leave me alone, "I'm going to need it."
Taking a few extra moments to collect my things, I threw my bag over my shoulder, grabbing Dean's sweater just before I shut my locker. Moving with determination, I headed towards corridor 29, knowing that his room was the last one on the right.
Standing outside the door for a few seconds, I finally brought my hand up to knock, clutching Dean's sweater in my arms as I waited for an indication that I wasn't interrupting anything. That came seconds later, when a small weight shifted just above my stomach to launch a flight of butterflies as I heard Dean's voice, hoarse and barely audible, inviting me in.
Holding my breath, I placed a palm against the door and pushed it open, letting the air out of my lungs slowly as I saw Dean pushing himself up in his bed. His expression morphed from bored and tired to surprised and intrigued as he noticed me enter the room. I resisted the urge to turn and head back into the hall as his eyes bore intently into mine, but as the door fell shut, I realized it was just the two of us.
"Umm, hey."
My voice was timid as I used my free hand to play nervously with the zipper on my bag, waiting for him to say something.
"Hey," he said simply, his voice devoid of all emotion.
Stepping further into the room, I couldn't help but let my gaze drop to his injuries. For the most part, the smaller cuts and scrapes he'd obtained from the crash had healed drastically over the time he'd spent in the hospital. There were still a few noticeable injuries however, including his right leg, which was now secured in a full leg brace, and the cut on his forehead which, with the stitches gone, was beginning to scar. I had no idea how much his sight had improved, though with the way he was watching me, almost calculatingly, I'd have to guess that it was almost as good as new.
"Why are you here?"
I faltered as his voice cut through the air, much stronger and more pronounced than it had been previously. "I, umm, I have your sweater, and – "
"I meant why are you here now?" he asked again, though this time the bitterness and anger rang through in his voice. "You've known I've been here the entire time, hell, you're one of my nurses, and yet, you never came to talk to me."
Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. He was right, because while I'd been contemplating how to strike up a conversation, he'd always been here. I'd just been too nervous and afraid to face him.
"I was scared," I admitted quietly, letting the sweater of his that I held drop on the edge of his bed. "I walked into work the day after the party, and I definitely didn't expect to see you here. I wanted to make sure you were alright, but when your vision was impaired, I thought it'd be better if you didn't know I was around. That all went out the window when your eyes improved, but I couldn't really think of anything to say."
He was listening, and as I stopped to meet his eyes, they were less hostile than before. "I wouldn't have found it weird if you would've just stopped by."
"I didn't think you wanted me to."
He laughed dryly, though when he began coughing a few seconds later, worry flooded my eyes.
"I'm fine," he insisted as I made a move to get closer to him, though he did take the glass of water I offered him, gulping it down greedily. "And I did want to see you, mostly just because it would've been nice to know that I wasn't the only one who felt something that night at the party."
My heart squeezed at his confession as flashes of us smiling and laughing around the campfire appeared in my mind.
"You weren't," I said softly, the edges of my lips turning upwards, "But the way I was looking at it, there was more important things that you had going on, like healing, and getting out of here."
"Well you got your wish, because the doctors say I can leave later today, as long as the tests they did this morning have nothing wrong with them," he said, "though I'm guessing you already knew that."
Biting my lip, I nodded, subconsciously letting my gaze fall back down to his damaged leg. "I don't, umm, do you want to talk about it?" I asked anxiously, "Because I'll be here to listen if you do."
I had let my hand fall to his bedside, and as his eyes met mine, I felt the warmth of his skin gently touch mine. "Not really."
My lips turned up at the corners as I nodded in understanding. "Then we don't have to," I said, "We can talk about whatever you want," I continued, before my nerves got the better of me. "Or if you want me to leave, I can – "
"Don't go," he cut me off, clearing his throat as my eyes widened. "I just want someone to talk to me as though I'm not stuck in a hospital bed if I'm being honest," he admitted, his voice tired and raw as his head sank back against the pillows.
"Okay, well umm, what do you want to talk about?" I asked nervously, sitting down in the plastic chair that was seated next to his bed, not wanting to pull my hand away from his just yet.
He raised an eyebrow jokingly. "How about you start by explaining to me why you said you were still a student at Duke, when you've clearly got a full-time job here?"
"About that," I started hesitantly, "I didn't lie." Dean still seemed unconvinced. "I started classes last week, just like everyone else, but I started here at the hospital a few weeks back. The money helps pay for school, and I couldn't turn down the opportunity for the experience."
His facial features shifted from ones of disbelief to seemingly curious and impressed. "You're telling me that you have a full course load and a full-time job?"
"It's not exactly full-time – "
"Katie," he said sternly, though a smile was threatening to appear on his lips, "You know it's okay to boast about things every once and while, right?"
Biting my lip, I looked anywhere but directly at him. I'd never been one to talk about myself all that much, especially things that seemed impressive or would make me stand out. I was a fly on the wall, and I'd gotten quite good at perfecting that persona over the years.
Noticing that I'd gone silent, Dean cleared his throat, and when I finally tilted my head up to meet his eyes, wariness flooded his gaze. "So, school..." he trailed unsurely.
It took me a few moments to catch on, tilting my head sideways until everything just clicked when I saw him shift uncomfortably in his bed.
My eyes widened. "I'm so sorry," I babbled, my voice apologetic, "I didn't even think. We can talk about something else, I don't mind. How about how – "
"Katie, it's okay." I froze. "I actually, umm, wanted to know how everything was the first week?"
"You did?" I asked tentatively, watching as he nodded. "Well, I mean, I don't really run in the same social circle as you, so I can't really say much, but I didn't find anything all that different."
It was evident, as his expression deflated, that those weren't the words that he'd wanted to hear.
"Oh."
"But I'm sure things will change when you go back to school on Monday," I offered.
"That's just it though," he said, pausing as a frown twisted its way onto his face and his eyes averted towards the door, "I don't know if I want to go back."
His confession was quiet, and in that moment, I realized that he probably hadn't had anyone else to talk to about this. At least no one who would understand. His family wanted to know that he was getting better, not that his thoughts were on the verge of depression, and somehow, I'd become the one who could listen as he spoke his mind.
I masked the surprise that coursed through me. "Can I ask why?" I questioned carefully.
Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "I just don't think I'll be able to deal with the way everyone will look at me," he admitted in defeat. "Last year I was spending half my time in the gym and focusing on getting my team on the same page, and now I'll be in a wheelchair for a few weeks before I can even start to walk with crutches. I don't want to see the pity in everybody's eyes, because it just makes it more evident that maybe I won't have the future I always dreamed of."
I wasn't going to lie – I could see where he was coming from. He was used to being looked up to and praised by his teammates and friends, but sometimes, even the greats had to fall to find out where they truly belonged.
I squeezed his hand, as it hadn't moved from mine over the course of our conversation. "I don't think you should give up just yet," I said softly and with encouragement. "You still have your degree to focus on, which is, umm – "
"Biology."
I smiled, not figuring him for someone who had an interest in science. "Right, and you never know what could happen. Trust me, everything will get better. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, it will," I promised. A beat of silence passed. "You'll see."
He managed a weak smile in response, though I could see the hope and light slowly glimmer in his eyes. And in that moment, something came over me that I couldn't explain. It was an impulse – something I couldn't control – which had me leaning down to kiss his cheek with affection and support.
And maybe it would've been okay, that is, if he didn't turn his head towards me just before my lips met his skin.
Our lips pressed together in a way that was completely unrehearsed, and I heard the quick hitch of his breath as my eyes widened in surprise. His lips were warm, if not a little chapped due to his condition, but that didn't stop my heart from accelerating as I pulled away quickly.
Biting my lip, I blushed as I saw the way his eyes regarded me with surprise. "I'm sorry," I whispered, "I didn't mean to do that."
An unreadable expression crossed his face, but was gone before I could decipher it. "Don't worry about it," he said calmly.
Realizing I was still all too close for comfort, I went to pull back when the door pushed open to reveal Dean's older brother, causing the both of us to wrench our hands apart, embarrassment filling the air around us.
"Well, well," he relished in amusement, "Either of you want to explain what's going on here?"
a/n: so, I wasn't even thinking about doing campnano this month, but somehow, I've ended up attempting it, and even though I'm nearing the end of my summer term, it seems to be helping me get some writing done! Hopefully you guys are satisfied with this beast of a chapter, as the next one will be quite short, though I hope to update next weekend as well if I find some more time to write! Thank you all for sticking with this story, and trust me, there is so much more to come :)
Also, free feel to point out any plot errors in this, as there may very well be some time line mix-ups, and if you want, follow me on twitter (emmarosewattpad) and instragram (emmaszalai)!