Hospital chairs are insanely uncomfortable when sitting in them for more than thirty minutes. In our case, it had been four hours. And within all that time, our friends—even Alex—my mom, dad, Wesley, and Joey all came here to the hospital before his own father did.
Mrs. McCallister had called him about five times, each time a more aggressive voicemail was left behind. Rightfully so.
She was sitting, my mom's arms wrapped around her in warmth as they talked. She looked happy and I was sure this was the first time in a while she was able to talk freely and confide in someone.
"Hey, you okay?" Kenji knocked me out of my thought. I took the bottle of apple juice from his hands and gave him a smile. "Yeah, I was just thinking." He nodded. "I can't imagine how hard that was for you. Dealing with your father and now Coen, shit. I'm sorry." His fingers brushed over my cheek wiping away tears I didn't know were there. I hadn't allowed myself to cry and now there was no stopping it.
Kenji quickly wrapped his hands around me, pulling me tight into an embrace as I soaked through the shoulder of his black thermal sweater.
We sat like this for a while, Kenji never letting go of his warm hold until I gave the okay. Once I backed away, he handed me some tissues, giggling at the loud sound of me clearing my nose. "Thanks Ken, I appreciate you."
"You're my best friend Serenity, I'd do anything for you." The bittersweet moment was quickly cut short once Kenji's face morphed into shock and terror. "Oh shit." I turned around, my eyes falling on what had shocked him.
Ella.
She paced the floor frantically, looking around the waiting room for a familiar face until she landed on mine. She walked forward toward me before hesitantly stopping in her tracks. We may have done petty shit to each other but does she think that low of me that I'd push her away and be rude at a time like this?
I connect our eyes and point to the empty seat next to me. She smiles, hurrying to sit down. "What happened? Our dads were hanging out when Coen's dad got the call, and my dad called me to ask about it which sent me into a frenzy because I clearly didn't know anything..." She trailed off as her voice broke.
"He was at the bridge when his mom and I found him. He wasn't wearing winter clothes and after being outside for so long he got mild hypothermia." She gasps, fear written all over her face. I placed a hand over hers, helping her calm down. He's alright, His body temperature has returned to normal and he would be ready for discharge but he'll be here for a couple more days.
Her gaze lifted to mine. "Why is he staying for longer is he's okay?" She asked softly. I wasn't sure how to tell her. I wasn't sure if Coen even wanted her to know. "Uhm... he signed himself into inpatient psychiatric care..."
A tear rolled down her cheeks. "I-I thought he was getting better... I should've been there... if I had known I would've never broke up with him when I did. And that close to Carson's birthday? I'm trash—"
"You broke up with him in November. I'm sure that wasn't the catalyst so stop blaming yourself. We all thought he was better. I think he thought he was good and I'm sure he was at moments but overtime it progressed and now here we are." She nodded her head in agreement.
"We need to be optimistic. Yes he's his a severe depressive low but he wants help. He wants to be better. That is a huge start. Be patient with him and anytime you're around him, just make sure he knows he's loved."
Her next move shocked me. She pulled me in quickly for a hug, her cries quieted by my jacket.
"I know we've had our issues. I've was envious of you when we first met.That envy turned to jealously once you and Coen became close and I thought I won whatever imaginary competition I had created when I started dating him." She dropped her head, shame expressed on her face.
"You're a good person. And as much as I would love for Coen and I to have a healthy relationship and get married one day... it's a fantasy and the reality is that the two of us are just not meant to be. And I have to learn to be okay with that. I don't know what's going on with the two of you, and frankly it's not my business, but if you guys are dating, I'm very appreciative that you care about him so much."
I could tell she was skirting around her final thought. "Ella..."
"I'm sorry. I ruined what could've been a great friendship between us and it was stupid. I was young and stupid. I have done and said some really gross things to you and I apologize."
She apologized? She apologized.
I took a deep breath. How do I even respond? This was the last thing I ever expected to happen between Ella and I. I always thought we'd just graduate and go our separate ways and I'd pass by her ten years I the future while on vacation, and we'd wave with half-hearted amicable smiles and go our separate ways.
"Thank you. You have said some hurtful things to me but I acknowledge your growth. It's quite impressive actually. We both made choices. Some worse than others. But at the end of the day, we're teenagers in high school, and sometimes you have to learn to accept when you're wrong. And we've both been wrong. I'm sorry too."
She smiled. The first genuine smile directed at me I had ever seen. I smiled back.
"If I could tell freshman year Serenity that she'd be sitting in a hospital waiting room holding hands and talking with the you, she'd probably slap me and tell me I'm making a mistake." She laughed.
"Honestly same. September Ella would've whooped my ass."
"Well good thing I did it for her."
She gasped before playfully hitting my shoulder and laughing. "Okay, touché. As much as I hate to admit it, you in fact did whoop my ass and it was deserved for the shit I said."
"I glad we can agree." Hand's wrapped around my shoulders and they extending past me to grip Ella in the same embraced. We were squished together before the sound of Dominic' voiced radiated in my ears. "I never thought this day would come! The two of you being friends—"
"I wouldn't call us friends." I quickly cut that thought. I had accepted her apology and whatever beef I had with her was pointless and over. But I forgive and don't forget. Something's aren't redeemable enough for friendship. And that's okay.
Ella nodded her head. "Yeah, we can call it, former enemies turned acquaintances who smile at each other in the hallway."
"What the hell is going on? Thirty three missed calls?" Mr. McCallister stormed through the hallway, approaching his wife, not paying any attention to the rest of us in the space. The energy immediately shifted and Ella backed away, sadness in her stare at his father.
"I thought you would get the hint that this was an urgent matter. I guess not since you showed up four and a half hours later." His mother turned away from him, disappointment in her expression.
"He's cold, sweetie, I'm sure they've warmed him up by now." Mrs. McCallister rose to her feet. A sour expression on her face. "He's sleeping and I'm going to be here for him when he wakes up."
"This is ridiculous."
"He's putting himself in inpatient care, its not ridiculous! You know he said he wanted to go to therapy with you. He wants things to work out between the two of you. That's all he's ever wanted. You always get what you want. You bring in and sleep with how many women?! In our bed?! You treat him worse than the dirt on the bottom of your shoe and I cant believe I've accepted the mistreatment for so long!
This argument was getting into dangerous territory. The air was tense and incredibly awkward. Everyone looked on, worry falling over all of us.
"I sleep with women because you never have time for me anymore. You're always grieving and anytime we talk it's about Coen and how hard it is for him. It's hard on me too!"
"You're right. Its been hard on all of us and I'm sorry if I haven't been giving you as much attention as you require but I'll be damned if I apologize for thinking about Coen and you should be too!"
Her voice broke as she tried to push back the tears. He quickly stepped forward, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "I love you, Helen." She pushed his hand away. "More than you love Coen and that's the problem. Every kid deserves a father, but not every father deserves a kid. You're disgusting."
"Disgusting?! Fuck you! Divorce me then!"
"The papers will be sent to you! I've been apartment hunting and I've landed on a place.
Im done with you—we're done with you." He backed away, his shoulders slinging back in defeat.
"You know what—I'm out of here."
"No you're not." She quickly retorted. It was almost as if I could feel the heat radiate from her body. Her anger turned into rage and her fist balled close to her sides. This was the breaking point.
"Yes the hell I am!" He turned around, walking toward the exit.
"Joel!" Her yell was stern. Rugged. Harsh. Tired.
She stalked forward, salty tears on her cheeks. She was no longer the fragile and sensitive woman I had come to know. Love can make the smallest of us become the mightiest. And although she was far smaller than her husband and her eyes had to trail up to meet his, you would've thought she was as tall as a skyscraper and as strong as a diamond.
"If you walk out of those fucking doors, Coen and I will move out as soon as he's discharged and you will never see or hear from us again. I guarantee that."
His lips drooped into a frown, and guilt washed across his face. "You don't mean that."
"I have never been more serious in my life. Exit those doors and you exit our lives."
He swallowed and eyes her expression for seriousness. And she was, in fact, dead serious. But that didn't matter. His footsteps pattered against the hard tile, a mournful march filled with sadness, anger, and guilt.
Coen's mother stood inhumanly still. Riddled with shock? Maybe. Or maybe she finally felt a sense of peace. My thoughts pondered until she finally turned to all of us with a smile etched in pain and embarrassment. "Today is a new day. Everyone in this room are the people who love him. It's my mistake for miscalculating that number."
She walked away with my mother and the hurriedness of their footsteps, and the sound of her voice breaking was enough to let us know she wanted her space to cry.
He left. He actually left.
Mr. McCallister was a prideful man. A man, who in the face of a declaration that the outcome of his relationship with the people he was supposed to love would come to an end if he left, looked at the sentiment as a threat. A challenge.
He knew she was serious. The entire room knew she was serious, but he would never let on. He would never let his ego fall. He would never ask. He would never beg. And that very hubris was his downfall every time.