Nobody's Listening

T E N

The sight of blood started to make me feel queasy. "Help!" I screamed, suddenly very grateful I parked relatively within earshot of the ER doors. "Help!" I started to stagger under the weight of James. I tore my eyes away from the blood and focused on his face. He looked strangely peaceful. A fresh round of hysteria broke over me and I started to cry. "Someone, please, help!"

A man and a woman must have heard my pleas and came running up to me. "What happened?" the woman asked, taking one of James' arms.

"He came… to me… with a bullet wound in his l-l-leg," I stuttered, letting the man take his other side.

"Don't worry," the man said gently. "We'll help him in."

"Do you need any help?" the woman asked.

I shook my head and then the blood came back into my line of sight. I convulsed as silently as I possibly good and nodded with vigor. "Yeah, actually, my mom works here."

The woman gave James to the man and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "You'll be okay, come with us."

They led me into the ER waiting room, where a nurse ran up to us. "What's going on? Desirae, why are you here?" She saw James' bloody leg and flinched. "Oh God… Desirae, your mom is on dinner break, I'll go get her in a bit. But right now, we have to take care of your friend." She motioned to the man to follow her to a wheelchair.

"No, wait…. Where are you taking him?" I cried, trying to stagger after them.

"Desirae, it'll be fine. Calm down. We'll get him fixed up, I promise." She and the man settled James down in the wheelchair and the nurse began to roll him away.

The man came back to me and the other woman and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you going to be okay?"

I stared after the swinging doors where James and the nurse disappeared. I nodded slowly. "Yeah…" I trailed off when I caught sight of my mom. "Mom!" I cried, lurching towards her. "It's James… he got shot… there's blood everywhere…" I collapsed in her arms, tears and snot running down my face.

My mom ran her fingers through my hair, the only right way a mother can. "It's gonna be okay, honey. I called Cyd, and she's coming to get you."

I nodded into her shoulder. "Mom… there's blood in my van…"

"It's okay… she can help you clean when you get home."

I nodded again and let her guide me to an empty chair in the waiting room. "Just stay right here, Cyd will be here soon." She started away, but I grabbed her hand.

"Thank you, Mom. I'm sorry about what happened Tuesday."

She smiled and ruffled my hair. "It's fine, honey. We'll talk about this at home tomorrow, okay? If you want to stay the night with Cyd, you can, okay? Just be careful." She kissed the top of my head and hurried away.

I sat there in that chair, my foot beating out a nervous rhythm on the floor. I glanced from face to face; some looked hurt, and some looked worried, like they were the ones waiting for someone else.

The time ticked by, and then Cyd was shaking me awake. I must have dozed off for a moment. "Hey, you ready to leave? Mesh dropped me off, so we can drive the Whale home."

I got up slowly and stretched. "Can you drive? I don't think I can."

Her face softened considerably. "Sure, honey. C'mon, you can lie down in the back, so you don't have to be near… it." She knew of my disgust for blood.

I nodded and followed Cyd out, letting her hold my hand. I gripped to it for dear life. As soon as we were settled in the van, I sprawled out in the back. "Cyd?" I asked as she began to drive out of the lot.

"Yes?"

"What if he dies?" I asked, my voice choking with tears.

"Oh honey, he won't. They'll give him blood transfusions most likely, stitch him up and all that good stuff, and he'll be out and about in no time."

"No, Cyd. This was strike three. He'll have to go to rehab… for a long time."

She was silent for a while, until I recognized the tree tops around Cyd's house. "I'm sorry to hear about that," she whispered as she pulled into her driveway. "By the way, I already cleared it with my parents, and they said it's okay for you to spend the night. Mesh and Luke are here too."

I groaned. "Cyd…"

She slammed the door and opened up mine, looming over me ever so slightly. "Dezza, I don't want to hear it. Luke likes you very much, and I think you should give him more of a chance. You can't pine over someone who's going to rehab for who knows how long. You have to live in the moment. And Luke is here. In the moment."

I sat up and stared at her for a few moments until she looked away. "Fine," I said softly. "Can I have some bleach and some towels, please? I want to get this blood out of my van."

She frowned; she could hear the deadness in my voice, and she shrugged. "Have it your way." She disappeared for a few minutes and then came back with Clorox, water bottles, and towels. "We'll all be inside."

I nodded and waited until she was inside to start on the blood stain. It wasn't incredibly large, but it engulfed me. I dry heaved as I poured the Clorox onto the carpet and a little bit of water and began to scrub.

Cyd doesn't understand. She's found the guy she can settle down with for now. She doesn't know what it feels like to be rejected by the one guy you really want. What would I say if she asked me how I felt? That I feel like he's going to be the one to either make me or break me? Like how sometimes you can see a stranger and feel this connection, like in another world, in another time, in another place, you both have something together? Somehow? I sigh and scrub harder, the blood starting to come up off the floor.

But really, do I understand either? No, I don't. I should stop being such a bitch maybe and give Luke a chance. Pros versus cons? Pros: he's handsome, sweet, he likes me for me, he's smart, he's open minded, he's outgoing, he's athletic. Cons: I don't like him as much as I wish I could. And in this case, even though there are more pros than cons, I still think the cons outweigh the pros… And let's never forget the fact that he broke Cyd's arm ages ago.

And what about James? The pros and cons of that? Pros: he's handsome, sweet, smart, shy, emotional, unique, open minded, and he's not afraid to speak his opinions or about his past. Cons: he's scarred, he has a rough side, he does stupid things, he's too cocky sometimes to cover up his shyness, he's emotionally unstable, and he probably likes really shitty music, like Black Veil Brides or All Time Low or the like.

And really, why do I like him? Is it the obvious reason, that I want to fix the bad boys just as much as the next girl? I fucking hate being mainstream like that. Fucking stereotypes…

Screw it. I'll give Luke a chance. There's no reason not to. Hell, he's good enough for me. And he's one of the few guys that had the courage to talk to me, when most other guys shy away from me. Just… fuck it all to hell. I'm giving the boy a chance. When James comes back from rehab, we'll see what happens with that. But right now, I'm gonna take Cyd's advice for once and live in the moment.

"Dezza?" I turned to see Luke standing there, looking worried. "Are you okay?" He looked at my hands, holding the now-pink cloth. "Oh, God, Dezza, your poor hands…"

I looked down at my hands to find that the bleach had rubbed my fingers into a sad, raw red. "Huh," I huffed, surprised.

"And you're crying…" he whispered, edging closer to wipe away the tears I didn't know had formed. "Here," he said, taking the towel away from me. "I'll help clean up the rest of the blood with you tomorrow, okay?" He put the towel on the stain, and then screwed closed the Clorox and the water bottle I had opened. "Now let's go inside and get you cleaned up, okay?"

I nodded silently and let Luke lead me into the house.