As She Fades(5)

For a moment, I thought about telling him about Slate. That had been the only unusual thing that happened today. Except that another patient, Mr. Wagoner, got to go home. I was going to miss him cruising the halls in his wheelchair. But I knew his kids and grandkids were ready to have him back.

“When I leave tonight I’ve got a game of basketball with the McKinley boys waiting on me. I need you there to help me take them down. You know how cocky they are.”

It had once been me, Crawford, and Knox against Jonah, Michea, and Dylan. The youth against the older ones. It wasn’t until Dylan married and moved off that we started having some success. Crawford growing five inches in one summer helped, too. He had gotten as tall as Jonah then, six foot three.

“I have an extra slice of chocolate cream pie from lunch. I think Mom is trying to bribe you to open your eyes with her treats. I know she didn’t send it for me.”

I had lost weight, too. About seven pounds, and on my five-foot-five frame it looked like a lot. Mom was definitely trying to put weight on me.

My phone dinged and I glanced down at it.

Don’t forget the game tonight. The text was from Dylan. He wanted me home for several reasons. Maddy’s potty training was just one of them.

I won’t, I texted back, then looked back at Crawford.

“I’m ready to have you back. I miss you.”

He didn’t respond. Not even a flicker.

Tears stung my eyes, and I wiped them away before setting my bag down and settling in the chair beside him. I’d read soon, but for now I just wanted to hold his hand and watch him breathe. Reassure myself that Crawford was in there and he’d come back to me. Soon.





CHAPTER FOUR

“THAT COFFEE IS shit. Here, take this. It’s yours.”

I had been reading when a cup of coffee that smelled like heaven—definitely not stale hospital coffee—was placed under my nose.

I knew that voice. He was back. The slut. But he had coffee. Good coffee. And I’d been awake since four this morning staring at the ceiling fan in my room. I wanted good coffee.

I took the cup before looking up at him. “Thanks,” I all but choked out. That was hard to say to him. But I had been taught good manners. He was being nice because I was Knox’s sister. I could accept that.

“You get here early. I’m never here this early. Couldn’t sleep last night, so I figured I’d get my day started.”

Did him buying me good coffee mean I had to converse with him? Probably so. Besides, his uncle was sick. Where was my compassion?

“How’s your uncle?” I asked, since that was the only part of his life I was concerned about. I didn’t like to see people lose a loved one.

He shrugged. “Stubborn, mouth of a sailor, mean as fuck, and pretty damn lovable all the same.”

That wasn’t the answer I had been expecting. But I wondered if anyone ever got a real answer out of this guy.

“So,” he continued, “we’ve had coffee, we share a brother, and we both spend time at this place daily. I think this makes us friends.”

“We do not share a brother” was my very quick response.

He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. “Kappa Sigma would disagree. Brothers for life.”

I wanted to roll my eyes but the coffee was delicious, so I didn’t.

“Why are you here all the time, Vale?” he asked, surprising me with my name. I had not given him that information.

“How do you know my name?” I snapped.

“We share a brother. Now, what keeps you here staring at this wall?” he asked as he pointed to the wall in front of me that held nothing but a single clock.

“If we share a brother, you should already know that.”

“Touché,” he replied, then took another sip. “Okay. For argument’s sake, we don’t share an actual brother. I know Knox’s taste in beer, cards, and women. I don’t know much else. Like I didn’t know until yesterday he had a sister. So, can I please know what my new friend does up here all day long?”

I was being difficult. Why? This guy was just being nice. So he was a flirt and a man-whore. Did this matter to me? Was I just that judgmental? God, I hoped not.

“My boyfriend is in a coma.” Saying it out loud hurt. Like slice-through-your-chest-and-make-it-hard-to-breathe kind of hurt.

“Ouch,” he said, as if he felt the pain that was currently shooting through me. “How did it happen?”

I needed to talk about this. It was good for me to tell someone. To try to accept it. “A car accident the night of graduation. I was in the car, too.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, and dropped his hand to rest his wrist on his thigh while holding his cup with the same hand. “What’s it been—a month now?”

I nodded. It had been a month and a day.

“Why can’t you sit in his room? Being out here alone every day seems … lonely.”

He sure was full of a lot of questions.

“I go in for three hours while his parents take a break. It’s my time to read to him.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at me so that I had to either meet his gaze or stare straight ahead rudely.

“So you just sit here all day doing what?”

I appreciated the good coffee. I really did. It was the best coffee I’d had in a while, but this guy was nosy and I wasn’t in the mood to defend myself. If I wanted to sit here all day I could. Not him, not my parents, not my brothers, no one had to understand it. I was doing what I had to do to get by each day. My life was in Crawford’s room and I wasn’t leaving him.