Random

Chapter SEVEN

Tyler drops me off at my car. We don't kiss again, but he grabs my hand on the way out. "I'll call you."

I nod. It's still raining off and on, and I duck my head against the wet and dive into my car, which seems extra rickety after riding in his. I turn on the engine to get the car warm, and take a second to check my voice messages and texts. There are five texts and two voice mails, and all of them are from Rick.

As usual, he's full of apologies and sorrow. A pinch hurts my heart, but I'm not going to get back with him this time. It's been two years of drama. Two years. I'm not going to even call him back, because he'll just argue and cajole and try to convince me how much he loves me.

Which, weirdly, is true. He's in love with me, way more than I am with him. Even with all those girls trying to flirt with him and take him home whenever the band plays, he's been solidly in love with me since that first night at the party. It makes me feel bad in a way, and I take the time to laboriously text him. It takes a while on my old-school phone, and this is when I wish I had something newer, because I want to take some care with it.

Rick, I will always care about you, but I can't do this anymore. This is the 5th time we've broken up and I'm tired. Take care, but don't call me anymore.

For a second I hesitate, the phone in my hand. Is it cold to do this by text? Maybe, but otherwise he will just argue and argue and argue. I hit send and flip the phone closed.

It's only as I'm pulling out into traffic that I realize I left my library books in Tyler's back seat. "Dang it!" I slam my hand on the steering wheel. There goes my plan for the evening.

The phone starts buzzing within a minute, but I ignore it. I really, really need to check on Virginia. When the nurse asks me if I'm family, I say in a choked voice, "She's my sister."

She gives me a sad look that makes my stomach ache. "Come with me. You can only stay ten minutes."

"Is it bad?"

The nurse is chubby, wearing plain aqua scrubs. She puts an arm around my shoulders. "Her injuries were extensive. We had to remove the arm."

"What?"

She squeezes my shoulder. "The real problem is a brain injury. We had to induce a coma to give the brain a chance to heal. But you go ahead and talk to her. We believe she might be able to hear you, and she hasn't had many visitors."

My eyes are suddenly filled with tears and I blink hard as I enter the room. She's alone, with beeping, whooshing machines. For a second I wonder why I'm doing this. We're only friends at work, after all, because she's older and has kids. We don't talk on the phone or go to each other's houses or anything.

But until the car smashed into the restaurant and took it all away, I didn't realize how much time we spent talking. Hours, every day, about boyfriends and families and work and books, because she likes to read, too. I miss her already.

I step up and take her hand. Her only hand. "Hey, Virginia," I say, and my voice is wavery. That's probably not what she wants to hear, locked in her coma.

It's up to me to be cheerful, but first I have to be sad. Her face is bruised and swollen, and her lips looked cracked and dry. "Can I put some chapstick on her mouth?" I ask the nurse.

"Sure. Put some lotion on her hand and feet, too." She pats my back. "Remember, ten minutes, honey. I'll leave you alone."

I nod, tears still spilling down my face even as I pull the Carmex out of my bag and put it on Virginia's poor, flaking mouth. "That helps, I bet. I know how much you hate having dry lips."