We're Trouble Bound

July

It would be inaccurate to say that Jaime and Oliver were fighting. To be fighting, you have to be communicating in some way. To be fighting, there had to be aggression or conflict of some sort. But there was only a stagnating. Their world was still. No glares or eyerolls; there was barely eye contact.

Oliver was performing one song with Keep Your Composure nearly every day, the only exception being when their set times were too close. But this involved no talking. At least not to each other. Oliver was too bitter to even initiate casual conversation. He just couldn’t do it. In this regard, he’d finally manned up and given up his fruitless pursuit. At least he had that positive note.

Although he was not actively following her around anymore that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking at her. She was still a ridiculously good looking girl after all.

Watching Jaime from day to day was unnerving. Most days, she was totally obliterated. Eyes wonky or just blank. The words he heard her say from afar were fragmented, barely coherent and utter nonsense. She wandered around quite aimlessly and listlessly. It was on these days that Nadine frequently followed Jaime around, careful to not let her talk to anyone too long, hoping that everyone wouldn’t notice Jaime’s strange behavior. Nadine would shoot Oliver wishful glances, silently asking for help. He ignored Nadine. He would not be pulled into that. Jaime’s behavior was not an everyday occurrence; there was no need to be as hyper concerned as Nadine seemed.

But there were other moments, slightly infrequent at first but steadily growing in numbers as weeks went on, that Jaime seemed like her normal self. She would be talking and laughing as though she’d never even had any problems at all. Her eyes would be wide and bright. She was as beautiful as she’d ever been in those moments. The out of place black hair couldn’t even change that. The only deterrent to her beauty was the erratic changes in personality that had become routine.

He knew why these changes were occurring; Nadine wouldn’t let him forget. She pled with him any chance she could. She told him about Jaime’s continual excess in the party department. She was adamant about getting Oliver to talk to her. She was convinced that Oliver was the key to knocking Jaime back to her senses. But for once, he was holding firm. The last thing he wanted was to fall back into the obsession.

And besides, it would be hypocritical for him to tell her she shouldn’t be partying so much; he’d spent the better part of his time on the tour completely piss drunk with his trousers around his ankles and some girl’s head in his lap. Many of his nights ended the same way the first night of tour had, leaning over and spewing the night’s drinks out onto concrete. It was hard not to drink when there was always something nagging at your head. He continued drinking to silence it or sometimes to just get rid of the crippling hang overs.

It was late afternoon when Keep Your Composure was about to go on stage. Oliver was hanging out by the side of the stage talking to Danny and Anthony. Oliver had the sudden urge to ask them if they were worried about Jaime at all. Did they notice her behavior? Has she always been prone to such spontaneous insanity? It dawned on him in that moment that the obsession he’d been so concerned with avoiding hadn’t disappeared at all. It had just shifted into an angry disdain.

He almost asked them but it was in that moment that Jaime arrived near the stage, being handed her earpiece monitor by their tech. It appeared that it was one of the days she was not under the influence. The strung out fucked up expression was missing. Her hair, which was getting long, was pulled away from her face in a messy updo. Her cheeks and nose were red, a slight sunburn there. It irritated him how damn cute she looked. Couldn’t she ever just be consistent? He sincerely wished that she could just choose between on drugs and totally avoidable or fairly sober and looking approachable.

He thought he’d be able to stay away from her for those minutes before their set began. He had the will. But apparently, she did not. “Hey…” She said to him, surprisingly out of the blue.

“’Ello,” Oliver tentatively acknowledged.

“Your set was good earlier.”

“Yeh saw it?”

“I stood at the back of the crowd…”

“Oh.”

“I try and watch it every day…” She stated softly.

“Aye?”

“Uh huh.” She looked at her feet. Never had she ever been so somber with him.

“Why?” He was trying to keep from biting sharply at her.

“Why what?”

“Why watch our set?”

She turned her head back up to him, momentarily caught off guard. “Because I like to? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Figure yeh got betta fings to be doin’.”

Her head was tilted to the side, surprised. “No… nothing better.”

“Not even them pills?” It came out so naturally that Oliver wasn’t even shocked by it. It felt good to say harsh something to her. He hadn’t had the chance and this was as good a time as any.

“Excuse me?”

“Yer bandmates may be daft, but I’m not,” he said smoothly.

It was almost frightening to Jaime how cold he looked in that moment. In the year that she had known him, he had never looked at her with such disregard. He was always invested in her. He had a continual reverence that Jaime had apparently taken for granted. It had given her some sense of security in him. He’d been predictable in it. She had once assumed that she could get away with anything. It was here, just then, that she realized that this might not be the case. She knew what she’d done was horrible, the worst kind of horrible. But part of her thought that maybe he’d be over it. That the proclamation of his feelings was slightly exaggerated and he’d overcome it just like any other rejection.

“An’ don’ be actin’ like there’s nuffin goin’ on. I can see righ’ through yeh.” His voice was confident and cool.

Jaime’s eyes narrowed; her frustration turning into a collected sort of anger. “You see through me? I doubt that.”

“Aye? So I don’ know how yer jus’ runnin’ away from yer problems?”

She gnawed the inside of her lip before spitting. “You don’t know the first thing about my problems.” With this, she turned away quickly. Running away again.

Oliver didn’t even feel guilty. He felt totally accomplished. He was proud of himself for resisting her and for taking a stand. So when they started the set, he just watched it pleasantly, in a remarkably good mood. He waited for his part patiently with a light smile. He felt vindicated.

--

Oliver was enjoying his first beer of the evening and staring at all his options. There was a particularly attractive redhead eyeing him occasionally. Her tits were great, large but not too much. But there was also a brunette that was catching his attention. The biggest factor in the brunette’s appeal was the ultra tiny skirt she had on. Oli loved skirts, for all the obvious reasons. He appreciated anything that made his workload less. And skirts eliminated the hassle that came with unbuttoning pants. If steps could be skipped, he would skip them.

Because really, the whole point of these one-off girls was that he didn’t have to spend any real time with them. He could learn their name and forget it in the same breath. He could ask for anything and they’d oblige. Then after everything was done with, he could leave them, makeup smeared and hair twisted, and they wouldn’t say a thing. It was the best kind of arrangement and sometimes he couldn’t even remember why he would opt for anything else, like a wanting a girlfriend.

He was pretty sold on approaching the brunette when his pocket vibrated. He reluctantly got his mobile out and checked the display. Nadine. The girl was tireless. She never quit. He didn’t want to answer it; it only meant trouble. But his sick masochistic side raged.

“Wha’dyeh want?”

“I need your help,” she spit desperately.

“Oh fer fuck’s sake… Not this again.”

“No really—“

“Piss off… This is gettin’ old, love.”

“It’s different right now—“

“Different?” He laughed. “Drugs blah blah blah. Jaime blah—“

“Shut the fuck up!” She yelled. “I have to take Jaime to the hospital. Right now.”

Oliver froze. “…Wha?”

“She’s bleeding all over the fucking place. I hate blood. I hate hospitals.I can’t do this by myself, Oli. Kate doesn’t want to go in either. Jaime’s flipping. I’m flipping and Christ, there’s blood. Ugh, I fucking hate blood.” Nadine streamed. “And she won’t let me tell the guys because they’re drunk and her head is fucking bleeding and she’s saying she had a seizure but I think she may be high too. She’s always fucking hi—“

“I’m not fucking high.” Jaime could be heard in the background.

“I guess the seizure is a definite possibility but fuck, Oli, I don’t know if I can—“

“Where are yeh?” Oliver asked; he had already started walking.

“Kind of by the buses… Going to my friend’s car. She won’t let me take her to first aid. She says she needs to go to the hospital because of the seizure—“

“Where exactly are yeh, EXACTLY…”

“By the row D sign.”

“Stay there.” He hung up the phone and started sprinting in their direction. There was no thought in his brain. Only reaction. He just needed to get to them as fast as he could. Needed to get to Jaime.

By some sort of miracle, within a minute he was close. He weaved through parked vans and buses until he reached row D. Three figures appeared in his sight, standing by an SUV. He could tell that one was Nadine and one he was sure he didn’t know. The third, he could see as he neared, was holding a bright orange towel to their face and he knew it was Jaime. He made a final running push to make it to where they were.

“Wha… is… going… on…” He hugged, heaving breaths, staring directly at Jaime. He could tell that there had been some good amount of blood by the stains on the towel but he couldn’t see where it was coming from.

“He came?” A muffled yet surprised voice from under the towel spoke.

“We have to go to the hospital,” Nadine ignored Jaime.

“Well, yeah.” Oliver nodded dumbly, still looking only at Jaime. “Wha’ happened?”

In a hysterical tone, Nadine said “She allegedly had a seizure.”

“So ‘er face started bleedin’?”

“Are we going or not?” The third girl asked, slightly freaked out.

“Yes!” Jaime yelled through the towel. “Please.”

“Then let’s go.” The girl started opening the driver’s seat door. “Can you try not to get blood on anything? My mom would be SO pissed.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jaime stated scornfully while Nadine was making her way to the passenger seat and the dumbfounded Oliver was reaching to open the back door for Jaime. “Thanks,” she mumbled. She crawled in, attempting to do so without either of her hands, which were both bloody. He followed her into the vehicle, still confused and out of breath. He kept his eyes on Jaime as he closed the door.

“Yeh okay?” He asked.

“Fantastic.” She nodded. The front of her white t-shirt had blood on it too.

“Is summun gonna tell me what the fuck happened?” Oliver growled, mostly at Nadine.

But it was Jaime who responded. “I’m pretty sure…” She sucked in air; she was shaking. “I’m pretty sure I had a seizure. And I… I f-fell and cut my face on the edge of the bathroom c-c-counter.” Her voice jumped and her hands were twitching. She was all nervous edges, trying to calm herself down. “And I think I may pass out.”

“Oh my god,” Nadine said from the front seat. “Don’t let her pass out, Oli,” she instructed while the girl drove them from the lot.

“Yeh aren’t gonna pass out, love… Yer fine…”

Jaime groaned. “Doesn’t feel like it…”

“Can I see?” He asked tentatively.

“It probably looks gross…”

He reached for the towel and she let him pull it away from her face. She inhaled sharply at the air hitting it. A mix of drying and fresh blood nearly covered the side of her face. Running from her temple to her mid-cheek was a deep gash still seeping blood. “Damn…” He muttered. “’S fucking sick.”

“Can you please cover that up?” Nadine asked. “I’m gonna puke…”

Oliver pressed the towel back to Jaime’s cheek, holding it there for her. “How far away is the hospital?” Oliver questioned, noticing how pale Jaime’s lips were. He was pretty sure she was more freaked out than anything else but that didn’t mean she was okay. She definitely would need stitches.

“It’ll be just a couple minutes… Not long” The girl said, driving fairly fast in her large vehicle.

All of this was sufficiently terrifying. Oliver still wasn’t one hundred percent sure what was happening. It had occurred so quickly his mind was racing. All he knew was that he was holding a bloody towel on Jaime’s face. The same Jaime that just a few hours ago he was so angry with. Now anger was the farthest thing from his mind. He just wanted her to be fine. He knew she wasn’t and that was the scary part.

The girl had been pretty accurate when she said it wouldn’t be long. They pulled up to the ER doors within ten minutes. It was pretty ridiculous for him to think that twenty minutes before he’d been weighing his hook-up options.

“I don’t know if I can go in there…” Nadine said, beginning to hyperventilate slightly. “I don’t know if—“

“Dine!” Jaime yelled.

“I’ll vomit everywhere!” Nadine insisted.

“I’ll fuckin’ go!” Oli interjected. “Let’s jus’ get ‘er in there…” He reached across Jaime’s lap and opened her door.

“Thank you,” Jaime muttered, wiggling out of the vehicle. “At least sit in the fucking waiting room, Nadine.”

“Yeah, just give me a minute to get it together.”

Jaime sighed. “Alright, you do that.”

Oliver followed her out of the car and put one arm around her shoulder to lead her in through the sliding glass doors. She was glad for it even if she didn’t know how to say it just then through the throbbing in her entire being. She made a mental note to explain everything to him eventually.

The nurse behind the triage desk was already looking at the two of them with raised eyebrows. “What can I do for you?” She asked. Jaime pulled the towel from her face, exposing the wound. The nurse nodded. “Through the door…” She pressed a button at her desk and a set of doors opened. “I’ll meet you to the left.”

Jaime leaned closer to Oliver. “Get the two cards and the chain out of my back pocket… I don’t want to get my shorts bloody.” She instructed.

“O’reight…” He reached into her pocket and pulled out the contents; Jaime’s driver’s license, an insurance card and a dog tag necklace. He didn’t even try to cop a feel.

“This way,” the nurse waved them into a cubicle sort of area and guided her into a wheel chair. “What happened, honey?” She asked as Oliver handed over the two cards and flipped the necklace over in his fingers.

“I had a seizure,” Jaime said plainly.

The nurse looked up from the cards. “A seizure?”

“I have epilepsy,” she stated flatly.

“Alright,” the nurse nodded and began copying the information from the cards. Oliver stared at Jaime, surprised. He hadn’t known. The nurse looked back at Jaime. “Are you on any medication for the epilepsy?”

“Klonopin… two milligrams. But I haven’t taken it in a few days. I ran out of them.”

“Any other medications?”

“Xanax… for anxiety. I haven’t had those either.”

“Your prescribing doctor is in…”

“Pittsburgh,” she responded. Her nerves were easing. “I’m on tour right now… I’m in a band.”

The nurse nodded and kept writing. “When was your last seizure?”

“Uh… about two years ago, I think.”

“When were you diagnosed?”

“2007… November 2007. A year after my skull was fractured…”

“Any other conditions? Recent surgeries?”

“No…”

“When was the start date of your last period?”

“Um, the third of this month, I think.”

“Any chance you could be pregnant?”

“Nope. No chance of that.”

The nurse nodded again, still writing quietly for a moment before continuing. “Do you smoke?”

“Not cigarettes.”

“Any drug use?” Her eyes briefly flicked to Oliver, whose mouth was hanging open a bit.

Jaime was quiet. “Not today.”

Both Oliver and the nurse looked to her. “Not today?” The nurse looked curious.

“Jaime,” Oliver said. “Yeh gotta be honest.”

“Not. Today.” Jaime seriously spat.

“But usually?” The nurse probed.

“Nothing major… Weed pretty often, I guess? The other stuff not a lot…”

The nurse looked frustrated. “Anything intravenously?”

“Never.”

The nurse clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Let’s have another look at that cut.” She pulled the towel away and handed it to Oliver. “How’d you do this?”

“I think I hit my face on the bus bathroom counter… The edge is sharp.”

“Do you remember doing it?” She touched Jaime’s face and Jaime immediately flinched.

“No… I was doing my hair in the mirror and I started smelling oranges. And then I woke up on the floor, bleeding…”

“Are the auras usual of your epilepsy?” She was still checking the wound.

“Yeah, but I didn’t really think that’s what it was… because it’d been so long since the last time. It was always citrusy smells, oranges, lime…”

“Hmm…” She moved back away and reached for a pressure cuff. “I’m gonna get your blood pressure and we’ll move you into one of the rooms to get some other vitals and get this stitched up.”

“Okay…” She looked at her feet and tried to breathe normally as the cuff squeezed her arm.

Oliver was speechless as the nurse finished taking the blood pressure and then wheeled her into one of the ER rooms. He sat down in the far corner of the sterile room, silently watching as a new nurse, this one a young man, jabbed a needle in Jaime’s arm. He twirled her little ID necklace around between his hands. Oliver wanted to comfort her, say something helpful, apologize, anything. But he just sat there awestruck. Seeing her hooked up to an IV with the front of her t-shirt caked in blood, he didn’t know how he was ever mad at her. He couldn’t even remember how it felt. He could only focus on how he felt just then. Like he would do anything to change things. With their relationship. With her present situation.

“So…” Jaime said, when it was just them in the room. “Uh…”

“Didn’ know yeh ‘ad epilepsy… Yeh learn something new e’eryday, I guess,” Oliver said, not coming up with anything better.

“Only Nadine and my parents know. It’s not something I bring up in casual conversation,” she muttered, turned away from him. She didn’t want him to have to see her ugly gash again.

“I thought we was past casual conversation…”

Jaime physically shuddered at his words. “Oliver, please don’t be mad at me,” she said weakly. “Not right now… Just pretend we’re cool and go back to being mad tomorrow.”

Oliver felt guilty immediately and he stood up. “’M not mad. Don’t fink tha.” He moved towards her and she immediately shied away even further.

“Don’t look at it; it’s probably even worse,” she said morosely.

Oliver could see it despite her attempts to hide. “’S not so bad now tha it ain’t bleedin’ so much… Probably have a wicked scar though.”

Jaime frowned. “I’ll have a nice pair of them then.”

Oliver tensed momentarily before forcing his nerves into check.

Jaime decided now would be a good time to explain a bit. “I didn’t tell you about the epilepsy because I saw how you reacted to just the scar…”

Oliver looked down at her and thought of the fury that had consumed him when he’d heard the story of her ex-boyfriend and he couldn’t blame her for not telling him.

“I’d hate to see you get worked up over it,” she continued. “When to me, it’s just another fact of life. Just another thing that goes along with… with what Keith did to me.”

“An yeh don’ want the pity. Never again.” He wanted to run his fingers along the tattoos at her ears, hold her face in his hands and press his forehead against hers. But he settled for staring down at her as she stared at her hands.

“Never again,” she repeated.

Things were tense and there was more he wanted to know. He couldn’t just hold it back. “Did yeh lie to tha’ nurse back there? ‘Bout the drugs?”

“No. I haven’t done anything all day. I swear.” Her eyes moved to his chest for a brief instant, not looking directly at his face. “You can believe that or not… I know Nadine was under the impression that I was out of control.”

“Well yeh certainly weren’t under it…”

Jaime groaned.

“Why would yeh be doin’ that shite anyway?”

“I don’t know, Oliver…” She sighed. “Why have you been wasted for three weeks straight? Our reasons are probably pretty similar,” she stated as the male nurse walked back in.

“Alright, here’s the plan, Jaime,” the nurse began. “I’m gonna clean this nasty cut out real good then we’re gonna numb you up a bit so that we can get it sutured.” He was preparing the tools he would be using.

“Alright…” She breathed in deep, anxious.

“This part is gonna sting a little bit; if you’ll just relax for me, it’ll go a lot easier.”

Jaime tried to relax but the moment he touched her face, she jumped. “Oh fuuuck.”

“You gotta hold still; I have to do this,” the nurse said sternly.

“Oliver?” Jaime finally looked in his eyes. “Will you hold my hand? Just for a second…”

“O’ course.” He held his palm out to her and she grasped it tightly with her own sticky red hand.

“Thanks.” She refused to break eye contact. It was making it much easier to handle. “Shows how tough I really am… I need you to hold my hand for this and this doesn’t even involve a needle and thread… I don’t know what I’ll do for that part…”

“Well, I’ll jus’ have ta hold both yer hands.”