Peyton than I am right now. My frustration builds until finally, my anger comes to a head. I’m furious that this happened to her. What’s worse is that it’s my fault. And, I can’t even express my outrage that they’re keeping her from me. I throw my good arm into the cards, blasting our poker game into the air.
Jenna surveys the mess of cards, scattered all over the ground. “You know what? Forget about poker. Let’s just watch TV and relax. It’s been a stressful day.”
I feel bad about the mess. I work to mask my anger by helping Jenna pick up the cards. While I’m down on the ground, there’s a soft knock at the door. “Hide, Jenna. In the bathroom. Quick.” Jenna scampers off to the bathroom, leaving me on the floor alone.
“Are you okay, son?” It’s my dad’s voice. “You didn’t fall, did you?”
I look up to see he’s standing next to my doctor. “No. No. I just knocked some cards off the table while I was feeling around for the remote. I didn’t want to give the nurses any more work tonight. They seem kind of shorthanded.”
“That’s what we want to talk to you about. Doctor Smith here, seems to think it’s okay for you to go home a little early. He’s checked over your blood work, and he thinks it’ll be safe to release you tonight. They just don’t have the staff for extra patients, so it looks like we need to get your stuff together.”
Whoa . The news surprises me. It’s a bittersweet moment. I am so ready to get out of here and back to my own bed, but it’s hard thinking about being so far away from Peyton. The thought of her being stuck here indefinitely is especially hard.
Dr. Smith walks toward the bed, “I just need one last check on your vitals, and then we’ll have you out of here.”
My pulse quickens, and blood rushes to my head when I stand up. Stumbling back toward the bed, I work to disguise my falter as a fancy skip. I can’t let this guy know that I feel way worse than I look. “Just practicing my stellar footwork, Doc.” I snap my fingers and throw up my finger guns. “My teammates don’t call me Twinkle Toes for nothing.”
“Well, if you can move like that, I’d say you’re ready to get out of here. No need for this, I suppose.” He dangles his stethoscope out in front of him and tosses it up and over his shoulder. “I’ll just need your dad to come with me to take care of some final paperwork.”
As soon as the door closes behind them I call out to my stowaway. “Time to leave, Jenna! Make the break while you have the chance!”
Jenna claws her way out of the bathroom, pulling off her scrubs and throwing them into her paper bag. “Meet you back home.”
I SLOWLY TWIRL THE LAST pill in the little tan bottle, watching it roll around in circles. How could one little tablet cause so much misery? It’s been a week since I got home, and I’m going out of my mind. I work to pull the blurry living room into focus. Damn painkillers. I should really try to get to the bathroom to relieve this nausea, but my heavy body changes my mind. At the slight movement of trying to lift myself from the couch, I groan and force the bile back down my throat. I hate feeling trapped.
The frustration of not being able to move has me crawling out of my skin. The worst part of this whole mess is having no control. I lie on the couch waiting for the side effects of my medicine to wear off. I need to get to that numb place. Helplessly, I watch Brody shuffle Kaitlyn into the kitchen. He’s had her fused to his side since I got home. He watches her every move. It’s a relief to know he’s with her in case Pistol shows up, but at the same time, it’s hard for me to watch him take on that role alone. I want to be able to jump in if he needs me. I also want to be there for Peyton. In the hospital, I promised to protect her. I hate that I’m breaking that promise. Guilt and worry eat at the back of my mind.
I still haven’t heard from Peyton or her parents. I keep