Since Drew

by J. Nathan

  My Drew was gone.

  * * *

  I felt myself nodding off after working with the visiting physical therapist.

  “Andi?” a deep voice whispered.

  My eyes snapped open.

  An older man in a wrinkled plaid button-down and jeans slipped into my room, closing the door quietly behind him. He walked toward me, stopping at the chair beside my bed and grasping onto the back with both hands. Something seemed off about the guy. Probably his twitchy eyes jumping around the room before settling hungrily on me.

  “Can I help you?” I felt myself inching away from him.

  He flashed a smile, answering way too eagerly. “Absolutely.”

  I discreetly gripped the remote control at my hip, finding the call button with my thumb, ready to press it.

  “I’m Jim Forester, a sports reporter with the Times. I was hoping to ask you some questions for a story I’m working on.”

  “A story? About what?”

  He slipped his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen, holding it out to record our conversation. “Your accident, of course.”

  “My accident? I didn’t realize it was news.”

  “Are you kidding? Promising athlete ends up—” The door flung open, cutting off his words.

  The head nurse on my floor walked in. The second her eyes landed on the reporter, they flared. “I told you people not to come back here.” Her words were cold and accusatory.

  He stuffed his phone into his pocket. “No harm, no foul. Ms. Parker and I were just chatting. Isn’t that right, Ms. Parker?”

  My eyes jumped from Jim to the nurse, but her eyes remained locked on him. “I’ll tell you what I told the rest of them,” she said, her flushed cheeks mirroring her maroon scrubs. “Stay out of this building or the authorities will be called. And mark my words. You will be charged with trespassing.”

  His eyes fell to mine. “Looks like we’re going to have to finish our chat some other time.” He turned on his heels and walked out of my room.

  I looked to the nurse, expecting an explanation, but she turned to leave. “There have been others?”

  She stopped in her tracks, slowly turning and nodding.

  “Do you know why he wants to do a story on me? Why my injury’s news?”

  Her eyes jumped away, avoiding me like a bad car accident.

  “Please tell me what’s going on.”

  Her shoulders tensed. “Doctor Fallon gave strict orders. You’re not to be bothered by anyone.”

  My face fell. “Why?”

  “She doesn’t want anyone getting in the way of your progress.”

  “My progress?” my voice squeaked. “Does she still think I’m unhinged? What aren’t you telling me?”

  The nurse laughed uncomfortably. “She’s just being cautious. You know, better safe than sorry.” She tugged lightly on my blankets. “Why don’t you get some rest. And next time a reporter sneaks in here, do us all a favor and press the call button.”

  * * *

  I spent the next few days surrounded by the same four walls bored out of my mind. Logan had been busy studying for finals and planning some end-of-year sorority soiree, so besides the occasional visit from the PT to stretch out my knee and appointments with Doctor Fallon, I’d been alone. It’s probably the reason I sat in my wheelchair outside the fourth floor elevator. Not because Doctor Fallon had encouraged me, but because I wanted to have a friend in this place. I wanted someone to commiserate with. To laugh with.

  Did it really matter this Drew wasn’t my Drew? Did it really matter he didn’t know me? Did it really matter he thought I was a hooker? Okay. Scratch that one. We were two people stuck in a hospital. Two people unhappy with our circumstances. Two people with more in common than most.

  I inhaled a deep breath and rolled down the hallway.

  Margie spotted me and hurried around the nurse’s station. “Hi, honey.”

  I offered a smile, motioning with my head toward Drew’s room. “How’s he doing?”

  “You’ve been in there. You tell me.”

  “I haven’t been by in days.”

  “Why’s that?”

  I shrugged.

  “You’d tell me if he’s spoken to you, wouldn’t you?”

  I swallowed around the guilty knot that suddenly formed in my throat. “Why would he speak to me? I thought he couldn’t speak?”

  I watched her shoulders sag. Was she disappointed? Relieved? “Well, I’m relying on you to come get me as soon as he decides to. Okay?”

  Not wanting to perjure myself any more than I already had, I kept my lips sealed and nodded.

  When she finally walked away, I rolled the last few feet to Drew’s door. As usual, he lay on his bed watching television. I tapped on the door and his eyes cut to mine, a snarl curling his lip. “What?” It was soft enough that Margie wouldn’t hear him, but cold enough that I knew I wasn’t welcome.

  Too bad for him I didn’t scare that easily. I rolled inside, ignoring his hardened features as he glared at me, his eyes assessing my every move. “Are you always this pleasant or is it just a result of the coma?”

  His voice grew a little stronger. “I never said you could come in here.”

  “Seriously? Because I’m clearly better company than the prodding nurses and over-the-top candy stripers.”

  His eyes shot back to the television.

  Screw that. “Andi.”

  Drew gave me a sidelong glance. “What?”

  “My name. You haven’t asked.”

  He blinked, the motion of his lashes long and drawn out. “Because I don’t give a fuck.”

  My chest constricted. That son of a bitch. “Well, it’s what normal people do. They introduce themselves, maybe carry on a conversation, get to know each—”

  “I’ve got enough friends.”

  I twisted around, eyeing the empty doorway. “Yeah, I can see the line.”

  “Again. I didn’t ask you to come in here.”

  “Again. I’m gonna go with the notion that your coma’s the cause of the stick up your ass.”

  “Nope. Just you.”

  I threw my head back and laughed, a true, belly-cramping laugh. I liked bantering with him. Liked dishing it back. Liked letting out my frustration at having to start all over with someone I’d already let in. Already developed feelings for. I knew I wasn’t crazy. My Drew was in there somewhere. This tough, unapproachable guy couldn’t be him. I could feel it in the ease of our exchange. No matter how screwed up it was, I could feel it.

  “You always talk so much?” he asked.

  “Depends. When I’m trying to help a guy who just came out of a coma, yup.”

  “I already told you how you can help me.”

  “Yeah. And I probably should’ve directed you to the gift shop. I’m sure they have magazines under the counter that could help you with that.” My eyes flicked to the zipper on his jeans. “See?” I shot him a smug smile. “Help.”

  “Seriously. What’s it gonna take to shut you up?”

  “Candy. Lots of it. And good TV.” I glanced to the talk show on the screen. “I guess if strippers, home-wreckers, and baby daddies still exist, there’s an audience for this, huh?”

  Drew didn’t respond as I repositioned my chair to get a better angle.

  “Which are you?” I asked, more to get a rise out of him than anything else.

  He glared at me through tightened eyes.

  I purposely dragged my eyes over his athletic body. “By the looks of you, I’d say baby daddy’s a strong possibility. Though with your anger issues, I might be swayed to go with home wrecker. Then again, with those muscles and obvious disdain for the spoken word…I’m going with stripper.”

  Disgust dripped from his snare as he looked back to the television.

  With a big smile and a true sense of accomplishment—sad but totally true—I joined him, enduring the ridiculous talk show in silence. And while he chose to ignore me, preferring the paternity-test-tur
ned-brawl on the screen to my company, I snuck glances at him. It was crazy. His features were exactly the same. The perfect nose. Full lips. Pronounced cheekbones. How had my hallucinations been so spot-on? So exact?

  I expelled a long sigh, mourning the loss of not only my Drew, but my freaking sanity.

  “Time for tests, Drew.” A pretty young nurse entered the room pushing a wheelchair.

  His eyes ignored the friendly nurse, sliding right to his transportation. The anger I’d witnessed firsthand, brewed in his stormy eyes. But he said nothing.

  “I guess I’ll leave you to it.” I grabbed hold of my wheels, reversing slowly. “Thanks for the show.”

  Drew didn’t bother to look at me as I moved to the door, but his nurse did, eyeing me as though she didn’t like me being there. I guess post-catatonic state or not, he still had women vying for his attention—or converting to catty bitches.

  I made it into the hallway and down the hall to the elevator with thoughts of our latest encounter on my mind. This Drew was a real piece of work, but a small part of me hoped against all hope that I’d been able to chip away a tiny bit of his tough façade. If not, I was just a glutton for punishment, setting myself up for yet another big disappointment.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I’d finally taken a real shower, with the help of a nurse who covered my cast with enough plastic to conceal a family of four. I felt so much better—fresher, cleaner, less hairy. I’d spent a few minutes on the phone talking to Logan about finals when a knock on my door grabbed my attention.

  A good looking guy with dirty blonde hair and scruff along his jawline stood in my doorway.

  “I’m gonna have to call you back.” I didn’t wait for Logan to respond. I disconnected the call and locked eyes with my visitor. “Can I help you?”

  An easy smile slid across his face, reaching its way to his honey colored eyes. “I’m Avery.”

  I stared across the room, wondering why his name sounded so familiar.

  “Drew’s friend,” he clarified.

  That’s when it clicked. “The supplier.”

  His brows furrowed.

  “The vodka that kicked my ass. You brought it.”

  He cocked his head. “Vodka?”

  Shit.

  I shook my head, more to clear the tainted memory than for his benefit. “Never mind.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” I smiled a little too widely, surprised he’d still want to.

  He walked inside, his eyes drawn to the colorful balloons Logan had brought floating by the vent in the corner of the room where I’d tried to hide them.

  “I’m a little surprised Drew actually has any friends. He’s pretty—”

  “Oh, he’s definitely pretty.” Avery dropped into the chair beside me. “Or so all the girls tell him.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  He snickered. “I know. I was just having a little fun with you. But yeah, I assume you were going to point out that he’s pretty hard to handle sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve known the guy since junior high. You tend to ignore those things when you know someone so well.”

  “Junior high, huh?”

  He nodded. “We both spent our summers here.”

  “So, you’re not from Wilmington?”

  He shook his head. “No, but I go to school here and my family’s beach house is here. So, it’s pretty much my second home.”

  “Which school?”

  “UNC.”

  I smiled. “Me, too.”

  “Yeah. I know.” His examined my cast for a brief moment. “I heard about your accident.”

  Of course the whole campus would’ve known Marley was headed to the Olympics and not me. She’d never been one to keep quiet about anything. And beating the school record-holder, even by default, would’ve been her biggest feat yet.

  “The nurses mentioned you’ve been stopping by to see Drew.” Avery’s voice pulled me from my head.

  “Seemed like he needed a friend.” I omitted the fact that my shrink made me. “And now here you are.”

  He rested his elbows on his knees and linked his fingers, pausing before meeting my gaze. “Drew’s complicated.”

  “Hard to handle and complicated. Sounds like a great friend.”

  He raised a brow. “The nurses said you’ve been back more than once.”

  “Yeah. For some Godforsaken reason, I feel like there’s something else going on underneath the tough exterior. Like, maybe there’s a reason he’s such an asshole.”

  Avery’s head shot back. “You’ve talked to him?”

  “Um.” I swallowed down that damn guilty knot that kept emerging in my throat. I was a terrible liar. But deflector? I could deflect like no one’s business. “Have you?”

  He cocked his head.

  Or not.

  “Okay. He talked to me.” It gushed out in a single breath.

  His eyes grew in amusement. “That son of a bitch.”

  “You really didn’t know?” I actually experienced a tinge of guilt for ratting him out. He obviously had his reasons for not wanting people to know he could talk.

  Avery shook his head. “Looks like you’re the only one my buddy’s been talking to.”

  “Lucky me.”

  He studied my face, his eyes lingering on the scratches on my cheek longer than any other area. “Why do you think that is?”

  “I’m a total babe?”

  He snickered. “No. I’m serious.”

  I pegged him with my eyes. “So, I’m not a total babe?”

  He laughed. “Have you looked in a mirror? Of course you are. But that’s not what I meant.”

  His compliment—fictional as it may have been—earned him a reprieve. “Fine. My guess is he’s working an angle.”

  “An angle?”

  I nodded. “He’s trying to get me to pleasure him.”

  He choked out a cough.

  I crossed my arms, unsure if he doubted me or thought I wasn’t Drew’s type. “I’m completely serious. He propositioned me.”

  “And how exactly did he go about propositioning you?” he asked with a smile in his voice.

  “He unbuttoned his shorts and told me it had been awhile.”

  Avery’s shoulders actually relaxed. “Thank God.”

  My forehead creased and my head whipped back. “Excuse me?”

  “No. That came out wrong. I’m not saying him doing that was okay. It just sounds like something he’d do, that’s all.”

  “So he makes a habit out of propositioning girls?”

  He shook his head. “He doesn’t usually have to. They’re usually more than willing.”

  I felt my arms tightening across my chest and my fists clenching beneath them. It wasn’t like the news shocked me. More like repulsed me.

  “Let me apologize for him,” Avery continued. “Because nothing justifies him doing that to you.”

  “Come on, Avery. He’s a big boy. He can take responsibility for what comes out of his mouth.”

  “You’re right. But for a long time, he’s been given anything his heart desires and things he didn’t even think to ask for. People don’t say no to Drew Slater. And sometimes, that’s a really bad thing. Personally, I think it’s why he finds it difficult to trust people and their motives. When it comes to someone he hasn’t known his whole life, he has a hard time letting them in. But between you and me, I think he could use another friend.”

  I couldn’t disguise my exasperation. “Then tell him to stop being such a jerk.”

  “Oh, believe me, that’s an ongoing battle.” He stood up and smiled down at me. “But maybe you should tell him since you’re the only one he’s actually talking to.”

  “Like he’s gonna listen to me.”

  He shrugged. “You never know.”

  “Thanks for stopping by. I think.”

  His shoulders shook with laughter.

  “Seriously. I’ll conside
r what you said.”

  “I had a feeling you would,” he said a little too confidently.

  * * *

  My newfound cleanliness, a fresh change of clothes, and Avery’s visit propelled me downstairs. I wasn’t sure if I planned to visit Drew or just check with the nurses to see if he’d spoken. Avery couldn’t have been right. I couldn’t have been the only person Drew had spoken to.

  A breathy female voice inside Drew’s room stopped me by the nurses’ station across from his room. I waited, pretending to be interested in a genital herpes brochure while I focused my attention on that voice.

  “Come on, Drew. Your parents said if anyone could get you talking, it’d be me.” A husky laugh followed. One I imagined came from a supermodel’s mouth. Drew was too hot not to date one. “I couldn’t bear to tell them that you and I never really spent much time talking. That was never our thing. Was it, babe?”

  My stomach roiled as I found myself front and center to the life this Drew lived.

  I craned my neck, spotting Drew in bed with his eyes locked on the television. A blonde with loose flowing curls sat in the chair beside him with her long tanned legs crossed. “I bet I know what I can do to get you talking.” She stood on chunky wedges and sauntered toward the door as if strutting down the catwalk. She had every right to. She was drop-dead gorgeous—and showing more cleavage in her tight white tank top than what she had covered.

  Totally called it.

  Once the door to his room clicked shut, something struck me. Not the predictability of what would occur behind closed doors. Not the fact that I found myself slightly jealous. But the fact that I was still the only one who knew he could talk.

  * * *

  My cheeks prickled in the hot afternoon sun. It was my own fault. I’m the one who decided to slide out of my chair and strand myself on a bench. But my stupid pride stopped me from asking anyone for help.

  “Ms. Parker?”

  My eyes shot up.

  Officer Roy in plain-clothes and a baseball hat eyed the empty space beside me on the bench. “Mind if I sit?”

  I shook my head.

  The bench strained under his weight. “Sorry it’s taken me a while to get back here.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d be back. Seemed like a pretty cut and dry case to me.”

  He studied my face to an almost uncomfortable degree.