Melt Your Headaches, Call It Home

When Brendon pulled into the hospital loading zone with the tires squealing, Ryan and I could only sit there, glad to finally be in a still vehicle and still alive. The ride was crazy; it felt like we took every corner on two wheels.

At least we're going to make the appointment on time.We have two minutes.

When we were able to unclench our hands from the handles inside the car, we piled out and got me situated in my chair. We about to tell Brendon where to park, but he pulled away before we got the chance, leaving the smell of burning rubber behind.

Ryan and I looked at each other.

"Weird," we said at the same time.

"Wait, no, it's Pretty. Odd." I said laughing, I thought it was funny.

"You have no idea how many times I have heard that," replied Ryan, with a bemused expression on his face.

The minute he rolled me into the packed reception area, a bustling nurse came up to us, handed a clipboard to me and said very quickly, "Oh, wow, you look calm. Everybody always looks worried, can't blame them. Boy, everyone's getting younger these days. Now the faster you fill these out, the faster we can get you a room. You already have a wheelchair how nice. Can you stand?"

I shook my head. Why would I look worried?.

She must have thought I looked nervous, because she continued, "Oh, every thing's going to be fine, you'll do great. And imagine how beautiful it's going to be... You two are both so cute!"

I glanced up at Ryan; he is just confused as I am.

"Oh silly me, what am I thinking? Here, have the father fill this out," she snatched the clipboard from me and shoved it into Ryan's free hand. She waved, and left us standing there, disappearing into the hospital crowd. The father?

"Wait a minute," Ryan tried calling after her, "She's not..." Too late. He glanced at me, red in the face, "You do kinda look pregnant."

I looked down at myself; I realized that I do. Last time the hospital waiting room was freezing so I brought a big, warm jacket. I had it over me covering my wrist and leg cast, my purse was lumped up over my stomach so that I had a big belly. I laughed and moved the pregnancy causing items.

Ryan put the clipboard on the front desk and we decided to go up to the office of the doctor who worked on both of us.

I spent the next half hour with a heavy lead vest on, taking x-rays and talking with doctors about my various injuries. When I came out, Ryan was sitting in an ugly puce chair reading some trash gossip magazine.

"Nice reading material," I said as I rolled up to him.

He looked up, "It's better than the Backyard Habitat for Kids magazine."

"True, True," I said smiling, "So what's the verdict?"

"Well," he said standing up, "I don't know quite yet, I have to come back in like three hours for the x-ray results and consultation or whatever."

"Me too. What do you want to do until then?"

"I tried calling Brendon but got no answer. I'm hungry, but it's your city, what should we do?"

I thought for a minute, "There's a really good ice cream man in the park a block away."

We agreed to go get ice creams in the park since it was really hot, and soon we were seated on a park bench licking our ice cream (me rainbow sherbet, him rocky road). I ditched my wheelchair and put it so it wasn't blocking the view of the pond.

We sat there for a few minutes in silence, just watching the families enjoying the nice day in the park. A group of kids was playing tag, all of them were laughing and giggling, they couldn't have been more than seven. One little girl fell over and started crying, not two seconds later her dad was right there. He comforted her and spoke softly before kissing the hurt spot, not long after she was up and running again, smiling as if it never happened.

I saw Ryan watching her too, so I said, "My dad used to do that for me."

"Yeah," he said quietly, "mine too."

Everything was so easy back then, one hug or kiss from him would make everything better.

"I miss that," I said. Everything is so different now.

Things didn't start getting bad in my family until I was about eleven. Before that, we were a normal family, but I was always 'daddy's little girl.' I did everything I could to please him and he would smile and hug me and call me his little girl. Apparently, nothing good can ever last.

When I was nine, my dad's company went out of business. I didn't even pick up on the fact that our family was having money problems until my Ben, who was fourteen at the time, told me why our mom wouldn't buy us new school clothes. My dad started traveling a lot and fell into a bad crowd while working odd jobs. By the time I was eleven he was a full blown alcoholic.

Pretty soon, mom had to start working and was never around, and when she was I was always the waste of money. She would say, "If your father hadn't bought you all those toys when you were young, we wouldn't be having this problem now."

However, my brother took care of me, we became really close and I can always count on him. That is until he left for college, I desperately didn't want him to go but I knew that he had to if he was going to do anything with his life. So I never told him how bad things got after he left.

The year I started high school, my loving family was officially destroyed. My mom hated me, my dad ignored me and they both fought with each other constantly, about little things. My dad only ever hit me once, he was horrified once he realized what he had done, he managed to stay sober for a month but then relapsed. After that he and mom would both go at it, barely ever using physical violence, but some nights I would lay in bed with my iPod blasting, blocking out their yelling. I would feel so helpless, I just wanted to go slap some sense into both of them, but I would never let them see me cry. I wouldn't let them see what they did to me, I kept it all inside, and it was slowly killing me.

Now, I'm free of them, but I miss the family that I could have had. The family I wish I had, but at least I know I'll always have Ben.

"Things don't ever stay like that," Ryan remarked with a hint of bitterness, flicking a leaf off of the bench.

"You speak as if from experience," I commented.

"Do you know anything about my past?" he asked me.

I shook my head, "I know you're from Las Vegas and you've known Spencer a long time, but that's it."

"My parents got divorced when I was three and I mainly lived with my dad. My mom eventually remarried, but I don't see her that much. I have a younger step-brother and step-sister." He hesitated for a second, as if deciding how much to tell me, but then continued, "My dad struggled a lot with alcoholism and had to take care of him a lot. Things got bad sometimes, a lot of shit was put on me and I always felt all this responsibility. He tried, though, I guess. He died a few years ago." He explained and then asked, "What about you? If it's ok to ask..."

We're more alike than I thought.

"Sorry about your dad, dying and stuff. It must have been hard," I said softly.

He nodded but didn't say anything; he was still waiting for my life story.

"My family was completely normal, until I was about eleven and my dad started drinking. He's still an alcoholic, my mom despises me, they hate each other, we're just the Brady Bunch," I gave a cynical laugh, "but hey, I still have my brother."

Ryan just looked at me. He didn't believe my act for even one second. I guess he knows what it feels like, so I can't pull that on him. I looked down, away from those aggravatingly understanding eyes. I am definitely not going to cry today. I never cry anymore, and in the one week I know these guys I feel like I'm bawling half of the time.

Right then and there I wanted to pour everything out to Ryan and tell him things that I had always kept to myself, but something held me back. I mean, I trust Ryan with my life, for the obvious reasons, and even though I haven't known him for that long, he's easy to talk to. I'm just not ready yet, some of it's still too raw. Even thinking about the blame that my own mother has put on me makes my eyes get that familiar burning sensation.

Unfortunately, he noticed my rapid eye blinking. "Hey, it sucks, I know."

There was one thing I needed right now. I leaned over and hugged him as best I could without causing either of us pain. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer. He smells good. Wait... what am I thinking? I laid my head on his shoulder and he rested his chin on my head. I can't think about him that way... Can I? I mean I'm little nobody me, what could he ever see in me?

Hugs are wonderful inventions. They make you feel safe and cared for, apparently it's the contact with other human beings that all of us crave, I haven't been hugged by either of my parents in over eight years. It releases some chemical or something, but I don't need to know that to like hugs. Especially from Ryan.

We pulled apart and I said, "Thanks, I needed that."

"No problem." Ryan smiled.

I sat there a minute trying to figure out something happy to talk about until Ryan asked, "Are you going to eat that?" He pointed to my rapidly melting ice cream still in my hand.

"Just because you eat yours fast doesn't mean that you get to eat mine," I answered indignantly. He had demolished his in a minute, tops.

"But I'm hungry," he complained and tried to snatch my ice cream from me.

"Too bad," I replied, taking a long lick of my ice cream and looked at him for a reaction. He was staring longingly at my ice cream so I relented, "Fine. You can have a lick or two."

I held it up to him, he went to lick it but my hand "quivered" and "happened" to get some on his face. He sputtered and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, both of which were now sticky.

"Oops," I said trying to feign innocence and not laugh. I took another long lick after making sure he was looking at me, but he was fed up. Smirking, he jerked my hand so that I smooshed it into my closed lips.

Now we both have sticky faces and...

Don't even think about it.

"Fine, Ross," I sighed loudly, trying to keep my mind off of those feelings, "you can have the rest of my ice cream." It was gone ten seconds later.

We talked for about another half-hour about lighthearted subjects before we got to hot and started walking (on his part) back to the hospital. "I had fun," I said, squinting up at Ryan.

"Me too," Ryan replied as he wheeled me along the street towards the hospital, "but definitely need to do some intervention on some things."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that you only know Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and no other Beatles songs," he said, like it was treason or something.

"Hey, there was that one from Across the Universe um, 'Hey" uh-" I couldn't remember the name, the actor who played him was really hot...

"It's Hey Jude actually," Ryan remarked dryly, "and with that I prove my point."

"Whatever, pretty boy," I retorted, "I am going to make you eat an entire cow, because you are way too skinny."

"Fine, be that way."

"Fine, I will."

"Fine."

"Fine."

He stops pushing me and looks down sending me a glare. After a few seconds he continued on and pretty soon we were in the crowded hospital reception area. We saw the nurse that thought I was pregnant so we decided to run past her. She didn't see us, so really, we just looked like idiots.

I'm just surprised that Ryan can steer a wheelchair that well with one hand.

As we settle into the hideous puce chairs that adorn this particular waiting room, we realize that we have an hour left before our x-rays will be ready. We debate going outside but finally decide to just read trash gossip magazines and make fun of the people in them.

My favorite part was when I found one of his interviews in a Cosmo Girl, I proceeded to read it out loud imitating his voice, as he covered his ears. "God, they make me sound like a pansy," he whined. This only made me read it louder.

And yes, if you were wondering, people stared as they walked by.

But hey, we don't care, because that's just how cool we are.