Like Phantoms Forever

I was alone in the house for the first time since the guys came out. They had gone into the studio and Wes went with them. I told them I had to work and hid in my office until they left.
In reality, I just didn’t want to be anywhere near Mikey. I’d overheard him talking on the phone with Alicia, his girlfriend. I couldn’t pretend that I wasn’t hurt, even though I had no right to be. Mikey and I broke up over nine years ago. I couldn’t expect anything from him.
So why did it hurt so much?
I’d been spending a lot of time with Gerard, talking about that graphic novel we were supposed to be writing. Sometimes we even talked about our experiences with alcoholism.
I told Gerard straight up that I’d started drinking because I was broken hearted over losing Mikey and Wes. I’d preferred living in that haze of alcohol to thinking about lost friends and lost love.
He told me he drank because he didn’t want to feel. We were definitely kindred spirits in that respect.
I heard the front door open and figured they were back already, or Amber was coming in.
“Em?” Wes poked her head in the office.
“Hey. That was a fast trip.” I swiveled in my chair to face her.
“I came back early because I wanted to talk to you.” She plopped down in my armchair. I waited expectantly for her to start talking. “Is there something going on with you and Gerard?”
“No.” I looked at her like she was crazy. “I love Gerard, but there’s no…romantic relationship.”
“It’s just that you two have been spending a lot of time holed up in here together.”
“We were talking about the graphic novel we’re gonna do together. And our experiences with alcoholism. We’re just talking.” I don’t know why I was getting so defensive.
“If there was something, you would tell me, right?”
“Of course I would.” I paused. “I spend so much time in here because I don’t want to see Mikey.”
“Everyone can tell you’re avoiding him. And it’s understandable, having your ex live with you.”
“Gerard’s keeping me company while I pull myself together and suck up the fact that we broke up nine years ago and we aren’t getting back together.” Saying the words made it seem so final.
--
It was finally a sunny day, not warm, but sunny. It was nice enough weather I decided to take my motorcycle down to the grocery store to grab some sour gummy worms, since I had such a massive craving for them.
I always get weird looks when I get off my motorcycle. People think that a girl my size couldn’t possibly want to ride a black Harley. Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I can’t like motorcycles.
I got my gummy worms and headed out of the parking lot, waiting at the red light while the cross traffic passed by. The toes of my boots just barely touched the road, keeping me slightly unbalanced. The light changed to green and I started to cross the street when out of nowhere, a blue car ran the red light and clipped my bike.
The motorcycle tipped over, pinning my leg beneath it as it skidded across the road and came to a stop with a clunk as my head hit the sidewalk.
I opened my eyes to someone kneeling over me.
“Don’t move.” He said, seeing me trying to take my helmet off. “I called an ambulance for you. Just stay still, I’m gonna get the motorcycle off your leg.”
I did as he suggested, the pain of the crash hitting me like a tidal wave. From the angle my head was lying at, I couldn’t see what my leg looked like, but it certainly felt crushed. My rescuer managed to get the Harley off me and onto the sidewalk.
By now, the paramedics had shown up. They got my helmet off carefully and put a neck brace on me before moving me carefully onto a gurney and into the ambulance.
The only thing going through my head as they started to cut my jeans off was that my mom was going to kill me when she heard about this.
They set up an IV with painkillers I guess, because everything got kind of hazy. The next time I could actually make my eyes cooperate I was on a hospital bed with a bright purple cast on my leg.
“So it was broken.” I mumbled.
“Yeah, and you don’t have a concussion either so that’s good.” I turned my head, wincing at the soreness in my neck. My nameless rescuer was sitting in a chair next to my bed, flipping through a magazine casually.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Cody Raschella. I was in the car behind you when that asshole ran the red.” He crossed his legs and continued to read his magazine, like he rescued girls from motorcycle accidents all the time.
“Who picked the color?” I asked, pointing at my cast. It was Day-Glo’s answer to purple
“You did. While under the influence of drugs, admittedly.” He checked the time and sighed. “Well, it’s been fun but I’m over two hours late for an appointment.” He slipped a small piece of paper into my hand. “Call me if you need anything.” He winked and left.
The nurse came back just then, with a whole tray full of bandages and antiseptic.
“You’re pretty banged up, sweetheart.” She said, clucking her tongue at me. She cleaned the scrapes on my knuckles, which had been unprotected when I crashed. Then she poured some alcohol on a cotton ball and swiped it across my cheekbone.
“How bad is it on my face?” I asked. I could feel bruises blooming all over my body. I was gonna be hating life for a while.
“Just some bruises and scrapes.” She said, smoothing a bandage over my cheek. “All better. The doctor’s gonna come in and talk to you and then you can go home.”
“Okay.” I was still kinda woozy from the painkillers they gave me so I just laid back and waited. The doctor, a wizened Hispanic man, finally came in.
“You had quite a crash.” He said, looking over an official looking clipboard.
“Yeah, but everything’s in working order, right?” It must be, or they wouldn’t be letting me go home.
“Your leg is broken in two places from the motorcycle. You have a scattering of cuts and bruises and thanks to your helmet, you don’t have a concussion or a broken neck.” He paused to let that sink. “You’re very lucky, Ms. Leeves. Try to stay off your leg for a week or so and don’t get the cast wet.”
“All right. Where are my clothes?” I asked.
“I don’t think you’ll want to wear them.” He handed me a bag. My cut up jeans with my phone-somehow still intact-, blood and dirt stained shirt and my scuffed leather jacket.
I called my house phone first, to see if they were home.
“Hello?” Of course it was Mikey who picked up.
“Mikey, can you tell Gerard to come pick me up? I’m at the hospital and umm….” I looked down at my cast. “Some pajamas would be great, cuz my clothes are kinda trashed.”
“I’ll be right down.”
“No, Mikey-” He hung up before I could tell him I wanted Gerard to come get me. Hell, I’d even rather have Wes, who would probably break my other leg for getting hurt, come get me.
But I didn’t have a choice, so I waited for him to show up. By the time he finally got here, I was mentally prepared for it.
“Jesus Emmy.” He breathed, stopping in front of my little curtained off area. “What happened?”
“Got hit on my motorcycle.” I left out Cody, why I don’t know. “Did you bring some pajamas?”
“Yeah, why did you want these instead of jeans?” He held out a bag of clothes.
Of course he picked out my Cookie Monster pajamas to bring. The most embarrassing pajamas that I own.
When I moved my leg out from where I’d purposefully hidden it in the blanket. “I don’t know how to get pants on with this thing.” I started to try to maneuver myself so I was sitting on the bed. Mikey was quick to help me move.
God, why couldn’t he have just told Gerard to come get me? Mikey just stood there, almost waiting for me to start changing.
“Turn around.” I ordered. He seemed a little startled but he turned and I was able to get into my pajamas easily. I had a lot of bruises on my legs, especially the one that got pinned by the bike. For lack of shoes I could put on, I left my uncasted foot bare.
“All right, let’s go.” I said, waiting as he moved the wheelchair over for me. I got settled and he wheeled me out to the rental car they’d gotten.
It was an awkward, silent drive back to the house. The only sound was the classical music station on the radio.
“What the hell happened to you?” Wes yelled, seeing Mikey help me into the house.
“Wes, I don’t want to hear it. I already feel like shit without someone yelling at me.” I said. “Will someone help me up the stairs.”
“I got you.” Mikey bent his knees slightly and lifted me over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry. My Cookie Monster adorned ass was right in his face as he carried me, very carefully because of all my bruises, into my room.
“Do you need anything?” He asked, looking at his hands like they held the answer to life.
“Just my laptop and to be left alone.” I didn’t mean to sound like such a bitch, but I’d just been in an accident. I had a right to be bitchy. He handed me the laptop and skedaddled.
I didn’t blame him honestly. I’d wanna get as far away as possible from the bitchy girl.
I had just opened my laptop when I suddenly got hit with a wave of fatigue. So I curled up to sleep as best I could and tried not to cry from the pain.
Both emotional and physical.