Free Coda Books 01 - Promises (MM) by Marie Sexton Page B

to come now too. It was either let him take me or wait here for cops and an ambulance. I got in his car.

    “THE wound on your head looks worse than it actually is,” the doctor told me. “Of course, if you had been wearing a helmet, you would be home by now with only a few bumps and bruises instead of bleeding in my emergency room.” I knew he was right. Worse than that, I knew that Lizzy, Brian, and my mom were all going to give me the same lecture at least a hundred times over the next few days. “There’s no sign of concussion, so once we’ve got your wounds clean and bandaged, you’ll be able to go home. Do you have somebody you can call to pick you up?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good. I’m going to get you some Oxycodone—”
    “I hate that stuff. It makes me itchy.”
    “That’s a fairly common side effect. Would you prefer Vicodin?”
    “Definitely.”
    “I’m going to give you a little bit now, plus I’ll send you home with a pretty heavy dose to take before bed. But only for tonight. You’ll probably be pretty sore tomorrow but try to make do with over-the-counter pain relievers.”
    “You bet.” Everything was definitely starting to hurt, and I knew it was only going to get worse.
    They gave me the first round of drugs and then closed the wound on my left temple with something that smelled suspiciously like super glue. Besides being covered with blood, my shirt had been shredded by my skid on the asphalt. They threw it away, painfully cleaned the giant patch of road rash on my right side, spread some kind of goo all over it and bandaged it, and then gave me a blue scrub shirt to wear home.
    Cops were in and out, asking me questions. Matt apparently was not on duty. Jason gave me his insurance information and promised to bring my bike by my house the next day. It seemed to go on forever. It was almost nine o’clock when the doctor finally brought me the second dose of Vicodin. “You can take these in a couple of hours,” he said as he handed them to me. I nodded even though I knew I wouldn’t wait that long. He handed me a cordless phone. “Call your ride now. I’ll want to talk to them before you leave.”
    I took the pills as soon as he left the room and thought about who to call. Lizzy would be a wreck, crying and trying to baby me. Brian would yell about me being an idiot. Mom would cry and give me a lecture on the same topic.
    I called Matt.
    “Hey Jared,” he said when he picked up. “Where the hell are you? I went by your house.”
    “I’m at the hospital. Can you come get me?”
    “Are you okay? What happened?” he asked with genuine alarm.
    “I got hit by a car, but—”
    Of course he didn’t let me finish. “What! Jesus, Jared, are you okay?”
    “I’m fine. But they won’t let me go unless I have a ride home.”
    “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
    When Matt got there, the doctor took him into the hallway, and they talked for a while.
    By the time we got in the car, I was already feeling better.
    “Please don’t lecture me,” I said as we got in the car. “Just let it wait until morning.”
    “Okay.” He said it like it hadn’t even occurred to him. I could have kissed him.
    By the time we got to my house, I was dead on my feet. Between the Vicodin and the adrenaline crash, I felt like I could barely put one foot in front of the other. I sat down on the couch, leaned back and closed my eyes. I felt him sit down next to me. Nothing happened for a minute. Or maybe it was an hour.
    The whole world was soft around the edges, not quite tangible. I knew I was in pain, but I was drifting on top of it, buoyed by the drugs, and comfortable back in my own home. I might have slept for a bit. I couldn’t be sure. At some point, I became aware of him again at my side, and then a feather-light touch near my temple, where the cut was. I cracked my eyes open a tiny bit. He was next to me but facing me, one leg tucked under him, looking at the cut on my head. His fingers were