A Physics Prodigy From Ukraine

“Ryan…”
Oh.
I was in so much pain.
My stomach was burning.
I groaned.

My head hurt.

“Ryan - can you hear me?”
Yes.

“If you can hear me - will you please squeeze my hand?”
I vaguely remembered not being able to do that.
My hands were cold.
Why did people never tuck hands in?
Under my left hand lay someone’s warm, clammy fist.

I gently pressed down and heard a sigh of relief.
I heaved my eyes open.
Brendon smiled at me.

“I’m not going to McLean’s?” I croaked.
He shrugged.
“Maybe. Your overdose didn’t really help matters. But it was very A-list.”

I didn’t know any depressed celebrities.
I turned my head and felt my neck crack.
The curtains in here were drawn, but a slither of darkness had penetrated the fluorescent lighting.
It was late.
I looked around for a clock.

It was late to the point of two o’ clock in the morning.
I frowned at Brendon.

“Why aren’t you at home?”

His smiled was forced into a smirk, and he tried not to laugh.
“I had to make sure you had someone when you woke up. Jon’s sleeping next door. Your mum went home.”

“Figures,” I muttered.

Brendon patted my hand.
“Ryan - she’s just, you know, having some problems coming to terms with you.”

I was her son.
She was supposed to understand.
I exhaled slowly, ignoring the scratch in my throat.

“I don’t want to go to McLean’s - I want to stay here.”
Brendon looked around.
“In the hospital?”

Sometimes, I felt like the only intelligent person in the world.
“No, dork - here, in Nevada.”
He nodded slowly, mulling it over.

“I could speak to Jon… You know - he’s a very smart man, I don’t know what went on with your medication.”
He wasn’t a smart man, that was what.
But I didn’t mention it.
Brendon was too nice.

I raised an eyebrow.
Yes.
I wanted to stay in Nevada.

I closed my eyes.
“Brendon?”
He didn’t reply.
He was probably nodding.

“Brendon?”

“Yeah?”

I squeezed his hand tightly.

I think I’m gonna be okay.

“Thank you.”