Come Back To Me

4

At some time the following day, I was awakened by Nick, who informed me that he and his parents were leaving. "Do you want a ride home?" He asked, helping me off the floor. I grabbed for my phone, which was on the stand beside Alex's bed. My heart sunk when I remembered why I was at a hospital.

"No, I'll be fine. I think," I whispered, glancing at my phone to check the time. 8:14 AM. I'd slept for maybe four hours, tops.

"Okay," Nick turned toward the door to leave. Not a second later, he spun around and walked back to me. "Hanna, if you need anything, don't be afraid to call me. If you need someone to talk to, call me. If you're scared, call me. Because the chances would be good that I'm scared, too."

A single tear rolled down my cheek as he pulled me into a hug. It was so hard to hold myself together, when I didn't know what could happen to Alex. I heard Nick's heavy, unsteady breathing, and knew he was trying hard not to get all emotional, too. "Thanks," I mumbled, squeezing his arm and turning back to Alex. "Don't wait up for me. I'll be down in a couple minutes."

Nick nodded and headed for the door. I crouched down by Alex's face, pressing my forehead against his. He felt so warm; alive. For a few moments I just listened to his breathing- shallow, but steady. I watched the fluids run through the IV tube in his right arm. I looked at his lips, slightly parted, with a gash trailing across the bottom one and down to the right side of his chin. Even all bruised and cut up, he was still the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen.

"I'm going to head home now, okay? But I promise I'll be back in later. I'm just going to go home and shower, and talk to my parents, and try to calm down a little. My mom will probably force me to eat something. Then I might go over to your parents' house, or Nick's, and we can all hang out for a while. Then, we'll all come back this evening. Don't forget how much I love you," I kissed his cheek and turned for the door. I took one last glance before heading down the hallway and out to my car.

 "Mom, I don't want to talk about it anymore, okay?" I'd barely gotten in the door before they began bombarding me with questions. I'd explained what happened and talked about what the doctor said, but after that, I didn't want to talk anymore. Apparantly, my mother didn't get that.

"Okay, sweetheart," My father whispered, pulling me in for a hug. "I want him to get better, too."

My dad and Alex were actually pretty close. Over the winter, Alex had helped my dad turn our basement into a "man cave," where he could go and watch his sports games in peace. They'd remodeled the entire basement, which was never even finished to begin with, and installed a flat screen TV, an industrial size fridge, a couch, and a couple recliners. There were team posters and neon bar signs hanging on the wall. Alex and my dad watched games down there on occasion. The two of them got along like father and son.

I trudged up the stairs and into my room. There was the mess I'd left the night before; my dress on the floor, necklace on my dresser, and a bra thrown in the corner. I sighed, slipping out of my clothes and tossing those in the corner as well. I wrapped myself in a towel and scampered across the hall and into the bathroom.

I let the hot water pour over me. It felt good, almost relaxing. I'd tense right back up the second Alex crossed my mind, though. Over and over I considered what had happened, still unable to comprehend the situation. If we'd left the resturaunt two minutes earlier, or two minutes later, this wouldn't have happened. If I wouldn't have used the bathroom before we left, the entire thing could've been avoided. I considered every possible what if until I'd given myself a headache. There were so many things that could've went differently- so many things that could've prevented this from even occuring. Even though I knew it wasn't my fault, I still found it hard to not blame myself. I could've done so many things differently. But at the same time, I knew that at this point I couldn't change what had happened.

It sounds stupid, but Alex meant everything to me. In my brain, Alex was a walking definition of love. He'd bring me soup when I was sick, hold my hand when I was scared, kiss me when I was jealous, and randomly bring me flowers. I was so afraid to lose that. It was impossible to imagine going through my days without him.

After hopping out of the shower, I threw on some leggings and a T-shirt. I didn't have the energy to put on jeans. I grabbed my phone and sent Nick a text. Where are you?

He shot back right away. My house. Parents and grandparents are here, too.

Want me to bring food? I answered.

Sounds good. My pap's hungry.

Heading back downstairs, I knew my mother was going to be curious as to what my plan was. And, of course, she was. "Hi, honey. Are you feeling any better? What are your plans for the day?" Once again, she was asking me a million questions. Okay, two, but I didn't have near the patience to deal with any of it right then.

"Still not feeling great, obviously. I'm going over to Nick's house, and I'm going to take some food. I was going to stop by-" Someone interrupted.

"Go on over. Your mom and I will bring some stuff over in a bit. Go ahead," My dad said, nodding his head. I knew he was trying to help, and I appreciated it, but I didn't want us all to intrude on a family thing. I guess I was intruding, but I looked at that as a different case than my parents intruding, because I was the girlfriend. I sighed.

"Fine," I whispered, twirling my keys around on my fingers. "Thanks." I turned toward the door to leave. My mother had to hug me again, of course.

"It's going to be okay, sweetheart. I promise."

By noon, everyone had gathered at Nick's house- myself; his parents; my parents; his grandparents; Zoey; and Alex's best friend, Matthew. At the beginning we were all kind of sad, quiet, and forlorn. Around 1, though, something changed. I think everyone realized that Alex wasn't dead and that we weren't at a funeral. Eventually, with Zoey, Matt, and Nick all laughing and making jokes, I was able to lighten up a bit. Matt told some stupid joke, and I chuckled a little bit. I felt so much better just to laugh. If nothing else, Alex had definitely brought us together.

The parents and grandparents stood in the kitchen, all holding cans of soda or bottles of water. Us "kids" (even though Nick was 23) sat in the living room, four of us squeezed onto a couch. Zoey sat on my lap, in order to de-crowd it a bit. Luckily, she weighed maybe 80 pounds soaking wet and wasn't killing my legs.

Some time in the mid afternoon, the doctor called to ask Sharon if she wanted to allow visitors outside of immediate family. She agreed, seeing the amount of people that had showed up to support her son. At that point, we agreed to move the gathering from Nick's house to Alex's room.