People You May Know

Chapter 9: It'll Be Okay, Eventually

Chapter 9: It'll Be Okay, Eventually

Riley

I haven't had much experience with hospitals. My grandpa broke his wrist cleaning the rain gutters last summer, but by the time my father had gathered us all into the car and drove all night to get to the emergency room in Philadelphia, he had been released and we just sat in the lobby eating stale Cheetos as we watched my grandma try to convince him to let the nurse take him to the car in a wheelchair. That, and my week-long Grey's Anatomy binge watch last Christmas was the extent to my knowledge of how hospitals operated. Needless to say, this did not prepare me for what I would see in the trauma center of New York's finest hospital as Lucas Friar's brother was rolled into the hospital on a stretcher.

Movement - Frantic bodies rushing from one end of the room to the next. Sounds - Beeps, gasps, murmurs, unidentifiable if you were not used to them. Touch. Hands reaching out to loved ones, arms brushing against one another, doctors' hands pressed against chests ready to heal. The chaos almost looked organized, a choreographed number in an otherwise disorganized commotion.

"Lucas!" A woman, elegant, if a bit disheveled, with her hair pinned up high and her shirt untucked in the back, waved us over to the far end of the waiting room. She had been pacing, you could tell, from the way she had her hand on her chin, and her purse and jacket thrown over the chair.

"Mom, what's happening?"

"They won't let me see him. I practically begged the horrid lady at the front desk, but she was entirely unhelpful. I even offered her money. I swear, the proud people in this city-"

"Mom! What happened to Holden? Is he going to be okay?" Lucas' hands were trembling. I had never seen him this scared before. Lucas Friar, the invincible. Lucas Friar, Golden Boy. Lucas Friar, Mr. Perfect. He was human after all. And it broke my heart to see him like this.

"He... He took Jeremy Henson's Porsche for a joy ride with a few of his friends. They were drunk. Holden wasn't, but his friends were. One of them thought they were being funny and grabbed the wheel. They spun out into oncoming traffic... The semi hit them head on..." His mom paused, tears welling in her eyes.

"Shh, he'll be alright Mom," Lucas left my side to pull his mother into a hug.

"Mrs. Friar?" A doctor emerged from behind the two double doors where Holden had been taken a few hours ago.

"Yes, doctor! Is my son okay?" Mrs. Friar's eyes were frantic, desperate for any kind of news about how Holden was doing.

"Your son... Your son's injuries were quite extensive. He's suffered from a collapsed lung, several cracked ribs, internal bleeding, a broken leg..."

"Is my son okay, Dr. Francis?" Mrs. Friar pressed, her tone tight and her eyes blazing with intensity.

"He's alive. But only just. It's up to him now, whether he stays that way. The next few hours are critical, but if he can hold on and make it through them, then he should be able to recover," Dr. Francis explained.

Mrs. Friar sighed, relief evident in her facial expression.

"Thank you doctor!" she exclaimed, holding onto Lucas' hand and smiling brightly.

"You can see him now. But just you," Dr. Francis nodded and then disappeared back behind the double doors.

"Go ahead mom, we'll wait here," Lucas assured her, looking back at me.

"Okay," Mrs. Friar gathered her purse from the chair and turned to follow Dr. Francis behind the double doors. She stopped suddenly, and turned to look at me. "You're a good friend to come with my son. Thank you." With that, she headed through the doors to be with Holden.