Ghost Of You (A Novella)

Chapter Nineteen (REWRITTEN)

By day three of Sebastian's awakening, he was itching to leave. He was bored and he was hungry and he wanted to sleep in his own bed, surrounded by his own stuff in his own house under his own care. Unfortunately, he still had four days of recuperation time to get under his belt, so leaving anytime soon was definitely out of the question.

Sebastian had to make the best of it.

He passed the time as well as he could with what little options were available to him—his phone, a book he wasn't interested in, and the television on the wall that had a very limited number of channels. The only highlight of his day was when Avery peeked in to check on his water situation.

He lived for that.

It hadn't taken Avery long to get accustomed to Sebastian's teasing banter like most. He wasn't aware that she had seen the answer key before taking the test, so she knew what to expect. Sometimes, like now, she would initiate it herself, "I see you haven't made your escape yet."

"No," He moped, tossing his phone on the nightstand. He preferred giving her his undivided attention. "But I've done the math and if I could just get my hands on the building's blueprints I'm fairly confident I'd taste freedom as early as tonight." Even though he was joking, it was still a tantalizing thought. He missed the fresh air.

"Why, Sebastian," she gasped, clutching her non-existent pearls. "I know you're not suggesting I be an accomplice to a crime so heinous."

He raised his hands in surrender with a wicked grin painted upon his face, "No one would ever find out! I swear!" He threw up the boy scout pledge just for good measure. It couldn't hurt.

She felt his water pitcher, the condensation dripping down her palm and onto her arm. The fact that it was still full meant he wasn't hydrating himself well enough. She would have to note that in his chart, which always sucked. She felt like a snitch. "How's your physical therapy going?"

"Meh." It was going as fine as fine could go for Sebastian. The problem was, they started urging him to rely more on a cane or a walker and there was no way in this hell or any other that was happening. After everyone had left and the skeleton crew had made their rounds, he did those stupid exercises by himself under the cover of darkness, usually until his legs gave out. He was not about to look like some ninety-year-old geezer perusing the halls of the children's floor. "I refuse to use the walker."

Avery snickered. She already knew. "But they're so stylish," she said as she dumped the stale water. "And who can really say no to free tennis balls?"

"I'm partial to the wheelchair." Which was true, even if only because he denied the other alternatives. Since he no longer had to wear the hospital gowns, the chair had become more tolerable.

He didn't need to look at her to feel the heat of her dissecting stare. It wasn't like she was his mother, but something about her disapproval made him want to promise to be better, lest he be sent to his room without dinner. Instead of confronting that emotion, he blurted out, "Just learned how to pop my first wheelie today." As if that made the whole situation okay.

At least it brought forth a laugh from her, regardless of the underlying bitterness. "You're healing from a concussion. I doubt falling out of your wheelchair would be productive."

She was right, of course. She was always right, which was beginning to annoy him in the most glorious of ways. It was a warring internal conflict of his—one among many when it came to the blonde nurse's aide.

Pulling the wheelchair out from beside his bed, she silently unfolded it, before looking at him pointedly. "Well, come on," she fussed. "Before I change my mind."

She didn't have to tell him twice.

***

The thin, dry air of Colorado entered and exited his lungs, deeply—he couldn't get enough. It was abnormally hot today and the smell of melting rubber from the road was a welcomed replacement for the overbearing antiseptic malodor of his current prison. Sebastian didn't even care where they were going, or why, he was just elated to be free. So much so, he could kiss her. The only thing, in his mind, halting that exact action was the fact that she was pushing him.

In a wheelchair.

Feeling more like an invalid and less like a man, squashed that craving, smashing its guts and dragging it through the cement she currently walked on. Maybe, one day, when he was back to one hundred percent, he might pursue that but today was definitely not that day.

Four blocks from the hospital and directly around the corner, Avery pulled a door, holding it until he passed through. He knew where they were the second she opened it—he had spent his whole life in this town, after all, and this was his favorite place by far. Although his stomach was rumbling with anticipated joy, the rest of him instantly panicked.

Avery picked a table close to the door and rearranged the chairs so that Sebastian wouldn't have to go through the embarrassment of attempting to stand just to sit again. What she did not expect though, was for him to put on the brakes and decline, vehemently, to go any farther. Tilting her head quizzically, she wondered if maybe she had the wrong restaurant, "Your mom said this place was your favorite..."

"No." Wait. That was wrong. Very wrong. What the heck was he saying? "I mean, y-yeah. Yeah, it is but... Avery. I don't have my wallet." It wasn't like she had informed him of their destination and he just chose not to bring it. He highly doubted he would be able to stand long enough to wash an amount of dishes equivalent to the price of his meal.

"Sebastian," Avery clipped, pointing to the empty space she had procured for him, "now."

Scared, but a little impressed, he eyed her warily, choosing to stay quiet and do as he was told. This was a side of Avery he hadn't seen before and testing the water probably wasn't a good idea.

With her chin propped up by her hand, she laid out her proposition. She would bring him here every day and buy his lunch, but in return he had to ditch the wheelchair for the walker.

Sebastian's stomach grumbled in approval but his pride was an entirely different being altogether. To him, the walker signaled a time too far in the future for him to worry about the embarrassment it may cause then... but at the age he was now, it was downright horrifying.

The smell of stale grease wafted through the diner as he pondered her proposal. Food was good. Free food was better. But spending time with Avery was priceless, and the only thing she asked for in return was that he suffer through agonizing, although temporary, utter humiliation. Was it worth it?

He would concede, eventually.

However, it was not because of the cheeseburger and fries