Babysitting the Player

Chapter 11

The double doors slide on their track and I take a deep breath. My right foot shakes along with the rest of my body as I take my first step onto the white ceramic tile of the hospital lobby. I walk to the desk where a brown haired woman sits in a black chair and peeks out from behind a computer screen.

"Hello, can I help you find something?" she asks.

"My boy-" I stop myself. "My friend. Just a friend."

"Name?"

"Johnny Tate. Johnathan Tate."

She types for a second before making a few clicks. "I'm sorry, he's currently being moved out of the emergency room and into a private room. You're gonna have to wait a few minutes."

"Do you know what room?"

"Not yet." She shakes her head and tucks her hair behind her ear. "If you want to take a seat I can keep his page up and let you know when it's updated."

"Thank you." I turn around and look at the empty chairs and couches in the lobby. My feet take me to a wooden chair with a bright green cushion and I sit down.

My phone is going off with texts from Cassie.

Girl, are the rumors true? Did Johnny hook up with that skank again?

Why aren't you answering???

Alex

Talk to me

Bro wtf

Are you okay? I'm getting worried

Alex

I text a quick reply. It's true. Can't talk

My phone buzzes with her reply and I don't turn my phone over to look at it.

I take a deep breath.

I should turn my phone off, shouldn't I?

It would look awful if Bryce called or texted me while I'm with Johnny.

I flip my phone over just in time to see Bryce calling.

Definitely turn the phone off. Right after this.

I tap the green button to answer his call. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"How's it going?"

"I'm still in the lobby. They're moving him from the ER to a room."

"Is that a good sign?"

"I guess."

"What are you gonna do when you get in there?"

I let out a sigh. "I don't know."

"You should work on getting him into therapy."

"He doesn't have a choice now. Therapy is mandated after, you know."

"I know. It's gonna be okay."

"What if he actually did something this time?"

The lady at the desk waves me over before he can answer.

"I gotta go, babe."

"Wait, we're still a couple?"

"Yeah," I whisper. "I gotta go." I hang up my phone and rise from my seat.

"He's got a room now," the receptionist says. "He's in 403. Take the elevator up and when you get out make a right. When you reach the end of that hall take another right and his room will be about three quarters of the way down on the left."