All But One

Chapter 38

I wake up the next morning to the sound of my phone ringing loudly on my nightstand. I groan loudly as I reach over to grab it.  My mom's contact picture smiles at me, almost mockingly.

"Hello?" I answer, confusion seeping through my response.

"Roxie! I'm sorry to wake you up, but I need you to do something for me." My mother answers frantically.

I mentally groan. "What is it?"

"I left a really important treatment plan I was formulating on the kitchen table, could you come drop it off before school?" She asks.

"Mom..." I sigh, tugging at my bonnet.

"See you soon!" She says, without waiting for a response.

I lie still for a second, trying to push down my urge to scream into my pillow. I could have slept for another hour, but now I have to go get ready. I take in a couple deep breaths to calm myself. After returning to a semi calm state, I check my phone. I scroll through various notifications and feel my heart sink when I reach the bottom and don't find any from Hakeem.

"It's okay. It's fine!" I tell myself, tossing down my phone and walking to my bathroom. I get ready faster than normal, my body trying to outpace the thoughts running through my head.

Countless questions race through as I try to gather all my belongings. The scary possibilities follow as I slide the folder my mother left into my bag. The thoughts eat at me and no matter how hard I try, I can't suppress them. 

Hopefully, I will see Hakeem in school and he can explain. I try to convince myself.

With that in mind, I tug on my boots and head out to my car.

Hakeem POV

I wake up again to the sounds of hospital equipment at work. The only difference now is that there is sunlight leaking in from the curtains. Otherwise, the room remains barren.

The aches I feel all over my body are now joined by a painful feeling of emptiness in my stomach.

I try to open my chapped lips to call for a nurse, but I can't seem to get sound from my parched throat. I lift my head in search of a cup of water; unfortunately, no one left any. Instead, I find a bell a few inches from my bed. Driven by thirst and hunger, I ring it twice.

Only a few moments later, a young woman enters the room. From her uniform, I identify her as a nurse.

"Good morning, Mr. Rashford. How can I help you?" She says, assessing the data on the machines.

I point to my throat, croaking out the word, "water."

"Oh, of course. You're probably hungry, as well." She says, finally turning her full attention to me.

I nod, mustering up the strength to say "please."

"I'll get a Tech to bring something to you." She responds, leaving the room.

Staring at the ceiling, I wonder what's going on outside of these four walls. My father is supposedly in jail, from what I can remember. The thought settles on me. I should be ecstatic, but, honestly, I don't know how to feel. I relish the idea of him not being near me; however, the thought of being self reliant at this age isn't pleasant.

I push the thought away, revealing a new one: where's Roxie?

I thought the snow day we spent together was a good way to turn a new leaf and start our relationship. But, her absence casts a shadow on that thought.

The sound of the door opening draws me out of my thoughts. A young man, appearing to be in his early 20s, enters carrying a tray of food.

"Here you go, something to help you regain your strength." He says, placing the tray on my lap and adjusting the bed, so I can sit comfortably.

"Thank you," I say, after taking a huge gulp of water.

"You're welcome. The doctor will be in shortly."

I begin devouring the food before me, desperate to fulfill at least one of my needs.

As I am taking my last bite of food, the door swings open.

The person who walks through causes my entire body to freeze, leaving the food to sink—like a lump of lead—down my throat.

"Good morning, Hakeem. It's good to see you up and eating." Roxie's mother, Mrs. Williams, greets.

I swallow another gulp of water.

"Good morning, Mrs. Williams." I say, unsure of how to approach this situation.

The last time we spoke, I got the impression that she liked me. But, that was before my father was arrested, which I presume she learned when I was admitted to the hospital.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, beginning to assess my vitals.

"I feel sore. Everywhere." I respond, cautiously.

"Well, you came in pretty badly bruised. We also ran a few tests, and fortunately, you didn't sustain any brain damage or a concussion." She explains.

"That's good." I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

She nods, staring intently at me. I notice her eyebrows moving closer together, as if she's in deep thought.

Her critical gaze makes me squirm, leaving me feeling utterly exposed. I know she probably knows about my dad and I'm not ready to have that conversation, yet.

"I'll leave you to get some rest." She says, finally. She turns around, but stops as the door swings open. 

"Mom!" Calls out the voice that has been narrating my dreams the past few nights. "I ha-"

She stops mid-sentence when her eyes lock into mine. Her mouth falls agape and she looks between her mother and I. 

"Roxanne..." Her mother starts.