Little Do We Know(35)
He smiled back. “I feel about twenty times worse than I look.” He tried to sit up, but then he winced, took a deep breath, and settled back into the pillows with his teeth still clenched.
“Wait. Let me help you.” I leaned over him, carefully lifting his shoulders and adjusting his pillows until he said he was comfortable.
And then I twisted my mouth up on one side and looked around the room to be sure we were still alone. “You ruined my surprise, you know.”
I unzipped my sweatshirt halfway so he could see the black, low-cut lace camisole I was wearing underneath. It looked like it took all the effort he had in him to lift his arm off the bed, but he slowly moved his hand toward the zipper and tugged on it until my sweatshirt opened all the way. He took a piece of the fabric in between his thumb and forefinger. “I ruined our sleepover.”
I leaned down to kiss him. He smelled sour, like medicine instead of peppermint. Not that I cared. “You didn’t ruin anything. There will be other nights.”
“But no pancakes.”
I let out a laugh. “I will make sure you have pancakes when you wake up.”
“I like that you saved my life while wearing lingerie. That’s, like, superhero hot.”
I almost corrected him. I started to. But then, I didn’t see the point. So Hannah found him first. I was there, too.
I zipped my sweatshirt up and sat next to him on the bed again. “Do you feel like talking about it?”
Right before his mom let me into his room, she warned me that he might still be in shock. That he probably wouldn’t want to talk. He needed to sleep and heal first, she’d said, and I’d agreed. But Luke had been in surgery for almost three hours, isolated in the ICU for another two, and he had a row of staples holding his stomach together. So, if he wanted to talk, I wasn’t about to stop him.
He let out a long, heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I can’t remember much. The doctor said it will all come back to me over the next few days, but right now, it’s all just a bunch of random scenes and images that aren’t in order and don’t fit together.
“I remember being at Shawn’s party. I talked with Ava. I remember telling Dominic that my side was killing me and that I thought I might need an X-ray; I figured maybe I had a hairline fracture on a rib or something. But even then, I didn’t think anything was wrong-wrong. I remember getting your text saying you were home from LA, and by then I was feeling really dizzy.”
“Then why did you get in the car?”
He gave me a sleepy smile. “You were waiting for me.” I could tell the drugs were kicking in. His face was starting to relax and it took more effort for him to speak. “I wanted to…wake up with you.”
I probably should have scolded him for not going home right away, and for not asking his friends for help, and for not calling his mom. I should have looked him in the eye and told him he did the wrong thing—that he never should have gotten behind that wheel when he could barely stand—but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“I don’t remember anything after that.” His eyelids fluttered a few times, and I could tell he was struggling to keep them open. “After that, I…I…” he stammered. “I don’t know how to explain it. I was in so much pain, and then suddenly, I wasn’t. It felt so…good.” I felt his hand begin to relax in mine. “I didn’t want…to leave the water.” He wasn’t making any sense. His words slurred together as his eyelids fell closed.
I leaned in closer and smoothed his hair off his face. His curls were coarse and stiff, not soft like they usually were. “You’re okay now. You’ll be out of here soon, I promise.” I kissed his forehead. He tasted like salt. “And I’m afraid you’re stuck with me because I’m not leaving until you do.”
The bag of yellow fluid was almost gone, and his whole body seemed to be melting into the bed. His head fell to one side, and he stopped struggling to keep his eyes open.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, watching him. He looked so sweet, so peaceful, and all I wanted to do was climb in next to him and tuck my legs between his, but I was afraid to get too close. Besides, I was trying not to get kicked out, and I was pretty sure the hospital staff frowned upon co-sleeping with patients.
There was an oversize chair upholstered in scratchy-looking green-and-yellow plaid fabric in the corner, and I walked over to it and flopped down hard. I curled myself up into a ball, tucked my legs inside my sweatshirt, and closed my eyes, hoping the nurse would take pity on me and let me stay for the rest of the day.
I felt the fatigue everywhere—in my shaking hands, shallow breaths, and heavy limbs. I couldn’t wait to close my eyes, but I couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer.
I typed out a text to Hannah. Thank you for finding Luke. He’s going to be okay now.
Unlike all the other texts I’d started and deleted over the last two-plus months, that time, I pressed SEND. I waited, watching the screen for a response, but none came, so I let my head drop back into the chair, closed my eyes. I pictured Luke and me driving along the coast, windows down, music blaring, fingers intertwined. My mouth turned up at the corners as I drifted off.
Everything felt warm. And bright. I reached around for the covers so I could pull them over my face and block out the sun, but I couldn’t find them. I closed my eyelids tighter and shifted position, away from the light. I took a long, deep inhale, and winced when the smell registered in my brain. Lemon. Ammonia. Something that smelled like BO and nasty socks. I peeled one eye open and realized I was still in Luke’s car.