Nobody's Listening

F O U R T E E N

I woke up around eight in the morning. I laid there for a few minutes, trying to clear my head to form some coherent thoughts. I looked at my dying phone. Eight thirty in the morning. The ICU opened to guests at nine. I glanced over at Cyd. She would be basically dead until probably eleven or so, so I probably had time to sneak out for a bit and see James.

I tiptoed upstairs to Cyd’s room and found yesterday’s clothes lying in a puddle on the floor. I put on the dark blue bootcut jeans and my favorite black Cursive shirt. After slipping on my checkered Vans and Luke’s jacket, I grabbed Cyd’s unicorn lanyard with her keys on it. I couldn’t drive the Whale, so I figured Cyd wouldn’t mind me borrowing her little yellow Volvo if I filled it up with gas on the way back.

I snuck out the front door of the quiet house and jumped into the Volvo. I got out onto the road with no problems, and once I was off of their street, I forced my muscles to stop tensing up.

What am I going to tell James? I thought to myself as I got closer to the hospital. I really am starting to like Luke now. But God, what about James? I know I really like him. That much is obvious. Do I just go in there and say, ‘Well, James, I know I kissed you yesterday, and I know you didn’t really like it, so I’m moving on to Luke, basically. But don’t worry, I agree with Cyd; that’s why I’m willing to wait for you until you get out of rehab, because maybe by then you’ll be emotionally stable enough for me’?

I shook my head, laughing softly at myself. I’m retarded. James doesn’t like me, I thought, trying to convince myself of it.

“James doesn’t like me,” I repeated over and over again to the car. Each time I said this felt like a slap across the face. When I got to the hospital, I had to sit in the parking lot for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. I was crying so hard I was hyperventilating.

Once I calmed down a bit, I took a deep breath. I realized that one of Cyd’s CDs was playing the whole time. I hadn’t noticed before. I usually didn’t like Cyd’s taste in music, but it sounded so pretty.

“But it’s all right, some enchanted night, I’ll be with you,” I repeated after the song. I smiled as I turned the car off and hurried into the hospital. It was already nine, and I was losing valuable time with James.

I stopped at the desk. “Hi, what room is Wesley Morgan in?”

The nurse looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Miss Plunkett. Your mom told me you’d probably be in. He’s in room four-oh-nine, honey.”

I speed walked to the elevator and waited impatiently for it to stop at the fourth floor. When the elevator stopped and opened, though, I found I could barely move slowly enough. My hands felt cold and clammy. My mouth was dry. I paused outside of 409 and knocked softly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear it.

“Come in,” a soft male voice called from within.

I stepped inside and stopped just where he could see me easily. “Hi,” I replied softly.

James smiled, causing a pang to go through my heart. He was tangled up in cords and wires. His leg was bandaged up and lying on the top of the sheets. He was wearing red basketball shorts and a slightly baggy black shirt. The area under his silver eyes was dark and bruised looking, but he still looked happy to see me. “Well, don’t I get a hug?” he asked, holding out the arm that had the least wires.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and crossed over to him to stop right before him. His arm and face fell at the same time, and a knot formed in my stomach.

“You know, I’m not breakable,” he said tenderly. I looked for anger, but only saw soft hurt in his eyes.

“I don’t like blood,” I used as an excuse. I looked around and saw a big duffle bag in the corner. “You already packed?”

“Yes,” he said. I looked back at him to see him searching over me. “I’m leaving at noon tomorrow.”

My eyes widened. “You mean you can travel that early?”

He grinned. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m going up to Maine this time, though.”

“For rehab?”

“For what else?” he teased. “I’ll probably be gone for… oh, I dunno. A good couple of months.”

I nodded and wandered over to the window. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He snorted from behind me, and I turned back around to face him. “You don’t sound too sorry,” he pointed out.

I looked away from his sad, accusing eyes. I couldn’t talk; my tongue was tied with regret. I shuffled my feet on the floor and tugged on one of the white strings of Luke’s jacket.

James noticed. “Who’s jacket is that?”

I pursed my lips, refusing to answer.

“Is it Luke’s jacket?”

I nodded. “He gave it to me last night, when he was taking care of me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Are you two dating now?”

I shrugged. “I dunno, I slept most of the time we spent together last night,” I admitted.

He tensed. “You… stayed together last night?”

“No!” I cried out. “No,” I said a bit quieter. “No, he left Cyd’s around midnight.”

James barked out a single laugh. “You know, I think you two will make a pretty good couple,” he said. I thought I caught some bitterness, but I pushed the hope away.

I caught myself smiling at the thought of Luke and I being a couple, though. “Yeah, I hope we do.”

I stood there in uncomfortable silence until he sighed loudly. “Well, I’m really getting tired. I woke up early so I could say goodbye to you, but it seems you’re a little… distracted.” He started to slide down onto his back.

I started forward, feeling the urge to help him and hug him. He was already on his back by the time I got to him, and I looked down at him. I took in his gray eyes; his dark hair that seemed to resist oil; his pale skin with the bruises under his eyes. I picked up his hand suddenly, and he almost yanked it back in surprise. I gazed into his eyes for a few seconds before looking down at his right arm. Even this arm had bad scars on it.

“You’ll be okay, right?” I choked out.

“Yes.”

“I’ll…” I trailed off, looking back into his eyes to find that they had turned bitter and distant. I dropped his arm and it bounced back down on the mattress. “I’ll miss you, okay?”

He nodded. “I’ll miss you too.”

I almost believed him, if his voice hadn’t been so cold.