Full Count (The Catcher Series Book 1)

by Bri Izzo

  “Sky?” a soft, high-pitched feminine voice calls my name. When I look up, the nurse is looking around the mostly empty waiting room for someone who will respond to the name Sky, AKA me. How she knows my name, I have no idea, but I assume she is going to give me an update on Buzz. I stand up and silently walk over to her, needing to dry my hands on my shorts from sweating so badly. “Bianca is awake, and she’s asking for you,” she calmly announces like it isn’t the biggest fucking deal in the world.

  “Where is she?” I anxiously ask, already starting to walk down the hallway like I know the answer to my own fucking question. In reality, I have no fucking clue. I think I’m banking on fate to get me to the right room. The nurse jumps in front of me to take the lead and after a short walk I enter Buzz’s room where she is lying in bed with a heating pad beneath her head. She looks tired, with her eyes droopy, until she sees me and they immediately perk up. Her dark, wavy hair is messy and slightly sweaty from the heating pad behind her. I bolt for her bedside and sit next to her. Although my heart is racing, I’m so much calmer just knowing she’s awake and still remembers enough to ask for me by name. My mom stays in the hallway talking with the nurse, giving us a quick moment alone.

  “What?” she slightly grins in her innocent childish way, and I can’t even fathom how she can be smiling given the situation. I guess she isn’t the one who woke up wondering what the hell happened to their best friend and found the equivalent of a crime scene in their bathroom.

  I lean down and rest my forehead on hers, looking her directly in her eyes as I hold a small chunk of hair away from her face. “You scared me,” I whisper, and her lips fall to parallel mine. A deep breath releases from me just seeing her understand my pain. It isn’t funny to think she could’ve died when I was twenty feet away from her. It isn’t funny to think she could’ve died at all. Seriously, God, thank you for saving her again.

  “I know,” she admits her defeat. “I’m sorry.”

  “What happened, B?” I question her even though I’m sure she’s already reported it to the nurses. I’m not even sure she fucking remembers, but I want to see. “I woke up and you were gone.”

  “I just needed to go to the bathroom. So I got up to go, and the bathroom light was blinding, but I kept walking. It made me nauseous, so I decided to let myself throw up first and then pee. But I hit my head on my way down I guess,” she explains, and my heart just fucking pulls towards her in total disbelief that I was right there yet far enough away that this shit still happened to her.

  “Did you pass out right away?” I ask. The last thing I want to hear is that she was lying on the floor in agony before passing out a while later. I will fucking beat myself up forever if that’s what happened.

  “Yeah, I guess,” she tells me.

  Gently kissing her forehead first, I sit straight up so that we’re no longer going cross-eyed trying to look at each other. “Look, I know we hate rules, but I’d like it if when you wake up during the night you wake me up also,” I mention.

  “You’re right; I don’t like rules,” she whines, fidgeting beneath the hospital blanket. It’s the first time she’s been a brat during her recovery, so I’m going to give her some slack and not hold it against her. However, I’m not about to let my request go unfulfilled.

  “And I don’t like finding you passed out on my fucking bathroom floor with puke and blood everywhere, so we’re even,” I close the conversation.

  “Fine. I’ll wake you up next time, okay? I’m sor-” she tries apologizing again, but I don’t want to hear it. Once is more than enough. I swoop in and press my lips on hers to silence them.

  I don’t want to make her short of breath or embarrass her in front of my mom who’s still outside the doorway, so I make the kiss quick and then ask, “So what’s going on? Are they keeping you overnight?” It’s already 3:00 a.m. and we have school in the morning.

  “I think as long as my CT scan comes back the same as last time I should be good to go,” she tells me.

  Since it’s late and we’re both tired, Buzz and I decide to share the bed as I let her lay on my chest and fall asleep. My mom is uncomfortably passed out in a chair next to the bed, so I slowly drift off as well.

  A while later we’re all woken up from the sound of a doctor’s knock on the door. When a guy in a white coat enters, I immediately think it’s bad news, otherwise they would’ve just sent a nurse.

  “Bianca,” the doctor acknowledges her. “Skyler, Susie.” I have no idea who this doctor is, but apparently he knows all of us. He comes over and stands next to the bed on Buzz’s side with a sorrowful look in his eyes. I reach over for Buzz’s hand and intertwine my fingers with hers. Waiting for what he has to say is making me nervous. “Bianca, you’re doing extremely well. We’re very pleased with your progress so far,” he begins, and I let out a deep breath and squeeze her hand in relief. But she still seems tense, like she knows there’s a “but” coming. “However, you’re not out of the woods yet. We ask that you accept assistance from your friends and family to make sure that you’re stable. After your six month mark, you can think about becoming more independent, but we don’t want you to do it too soon and have something like this happen again. Your brain injury is very sensitive, but if you’re conscious and take care of yourself, you should be able to make a full recovery.”

  No one says anything back to him; we all just nod in understanding. And then he finishes his speech for the night, “I’ll have a nurse come back in here and make sure everything else is good, but then you’re free to go. Have a good night, guys.”

  The moment he closes the door on his way out, Buzz leans her face on my shoulder. I’m pretty sure she’s agitated from being told what to do and also for her brain injury still weighing her down. The one skill this woman lacks is patience. But it’s my job to distract her so it doesn’t get worse.

  “Hey,” I whisper so only she can hear me. Her heart monitor is drowning out the sound of my voice so it won’t carry to my mom next to us.

  “What?” Buzz mumbles into my shoulder.

  “Don’t be frustrated, alright? I’m fucking here for you. We’ll get through this,” I promise her. She seriously needed to hear that. I can tell by the way she shifts her body to be more open with me. “Kiss me,” I demand, needing to feel the fullness she brings into my life.

  Her eyes dart across the room and then back to me as she quietly reminds me, “Your mom…”

  “I don’t fucking care who watches,” I state, knowing my mom definitely saw us kiss earlier. She just pretends to not know about our budding romance. Buzz’s lips finally lift into a smile; it isn’t full blown because I think she’s still nervous about having an audience, but I’ll take it. She leans her head up at me so our lips can collide, assuring both of us that everything will work out. I fucking hate sitting in a hospital room with her again. But I’m fairly certain she hates it more, so I have to trust that she’ll do what she can to not come back.

  When the nurse comes into the room again, she insists that we use a wheelchair to leave. I’m not fucking having it, so as Buzz is standing in front of the wheelchair I bend down and whisper, “Hold onto me.”

  “What?” she questions me, the nurse giving her weary eyes for not taking her orders.

  “Hold onto me, B,” I repeat, reaching my arms out, ready to lift her up. Her arms drape over my shoulders as I cradle her into my chest.

  “Sky-” the nurse tries denying me.

  “You said she couldn’t walk out, so I’m carrying her,” I interrupt her and without even looking back, I walk out of the room, down the hallway, and through the exit to the parking lot.

  The sun is starting to come up, so I know sleeping before school isn’t going to be an option, at least for me. Buzz can probably skip school and get away with it.

  “Do you want us to take you home so you can sleep all day?” I ask her, setting her into the backseat of my mom’s Explorer like she’s a child needing to be buckled in a car seat
.

  “No. I’m going to school,” she argues, and I can read the determination on her face. The only reason she wants to skip school is if she can do something fun - not sleep because she was in the hospital all night.

  Arriving at school with next to no sleep is a huge mistake. We both should’ve skipped. We walk into the cafeteria before first period and collapse onto the lunch tables like zombies.

  “Wow, what the hell happened to you two?” Alex asks us, directing it more at me since Buzz has already buried her face into her hands.

  “We spent the night in the hospital,” I decide to be completely honest with him and everyone. We didn’t call to wake them up because even though it was serious, Beth would’ve been pissed to be woken up in the middle of the night for Buzz. It’s shitty, but we all know it’s true. Alex also knows she stays at my house basically whenever she feels like it, so at least I won’t get beat up for that. If he knew what we recently started doing, though, I’d have to watch my back constantly.

  The other small conversations at our table immediately stop and everyone’s eyes land on us. Buzz stays “hidden” as I rest my hand on her lower back to gently graze it and put her at ease while I handle the spotlight.

  “What happened?” Benny and Alex chorus, further intensifying their non blood resemblance.

  “She collapsed on the bathroom floor after being nauseous and trying to throw up,” I vaguely paint them a picture. Nothing will fully explain how painful it is to see her like that, so I don’t bother trying.

  “B, are you okay now?” Tiffany worries from across the table. I see Sam attempt to comfort her with his hand on her shoulder, but she shakes him off. In this sense, Tiffany and I are the same. No one can fucking make us feel better besides Buzz.

  When she doesn’t lift her head, I pinch her side, and she flinches up in a mini panic. I catch her so she doesn’t fall off the bench, but I can’t help but laugh. She was totally sleeping. “Buzz?” I acknowledge her.

  “What?” she answers, looking around at everyone staring at her.

  “Tiff asked you if you were okay now,” I rehash for her.

  “Oh,” she says to me, but then she turns towards Tiffany and the group. “I’m fine. Just tired.” She has no idea of the contents of our conversation at all, but it’s probably better that way so I leave it alone. Benny and Alex both give me timid looks like they don’t believe her, but I telepathically promise them I’ll take care of her.

  The final bell rings before first period, so we all disperse to our lockers to start off the day. In the hallways I hear people gossiping about their homecoming weekends and briefly hear Chase and Buzz’s names thrown out rather closely together, but I can’t be certain that it’s the same person talking. To be honest, I really don’t fucking care what anyone else is saying about them. She’s mine now.

  I walk Buzz to her locker and as I stand behind her, I whisper in her ear, “I can take you home if you want.”

  “Look, I know my underwear gave you the invitation last night, but can it wait until after school?” she snickers, and I see her literally biting the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing hysterically. I’m glad she still has her sense of humor in tact.

  “Be careful what you wish for,” I tease back, pinching her ass, hearing her yelp in surprise before heading down the hallway towards my first class.

  I wait at Buzz’s locker for ten minutes after the final bell rings out, but she never shows up. I panic that something’s happened to her during the day, but I know it says ICE (In Case of Emergency) next to my name in her phone. I have to believe it actually means something, that I would’ve been called.

  I walk to the front office, thinking maybe the secretary has a clue about Buzz’s whereabouts. Everyone is keeping a close eye on her, not just me. I made sure of that on the first day of school.

  “Pamela, do you happen to know where Buzz - I mean, Bianca - is right now?” I ask her, forgetting that her nickname isn’t as well known with adults.

  “She actually has detention this afternoon. She should be done in twenty minutes,” she informs me like she has been anticipating me coming to the office. She doesn’t even have to look up anything. I must’ve missed something.

  “Detention? For what?” If she can so freely remember that Buzz has detention, she certainly will be able to tell me what she did to deserve it.

  “Sleeping in class,” Pamela says sternly.

  “The girl has brain trauma and a teacher gave her detention for sleeping in class? Unbelievable,” I roll my eyes in complete disgust.

  “Mr. Slone is stricter than her other teachers. It is advanced algebra,” she retorts like it’s a good enough explanation for punishing Buzz when it’s really out of her control.

  “Whatever. Thanks,” I snap.

  I wait outside in the parking lot for Buzz after serving her detention. I hope that someone brought her a joint so she could maybe bond with a stoner and at least half enjoy it. By the time she exits the building, I’m the only student in the parking lot. Other cars are still parked there for after school activities and sports, but anyone who wanted to leave has left already.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” I greet her as I lean up against my Jeep with my arms crossed.

  “You waited for me?” she questions the obvious. She looks totally defeated, like this school day just slapped the shit out of her.

  “How else would you get home?” I tease.

  “Walk,” she answers.

  “Not on my watch,” I mutter, reaching for her backpack to throw in the backseat with mine. I hold the door open for her, and I can tell she’s trying to read the symbol of my gesture: is it because I think she’s helpless or because she’s my girl? For the record, it’s because she’s my girl.

  As I drive out of the parking lot, I ask her, “So how was your day, Miss Trouble Maker? Did you try to make something of yourself or are you still trying to impress other people?”

  “It’s Mrs. And I’m pretty sure I was the Athlete,” she clarifies with a smile. She totally gets my Breakfast Club reference. Her girly eyes and smirk are so fucking adorable to see knowing she just had a horribly exhausting day.

  “Did you share a joint with the stoner?” I revise my question.

  “Unfortunately no. But Leah talked to me at lunch,” she tells me.

  Fuck. This can’t be good.

  33 Bianca Ferrari

  I sleep through fourth period, which is my advanced algebra class. I honestly was trying so hard to pay attention because I actually love math; it’s the one subject that isn’t a struggle for me at the moment since I don’t have to remember anything. All I have to do is figure out the answers. But I am so freaking tired from spending the night in the hospital that my eyelids feel like lead weights.

  I wake up to the bell alerting me that class is over and a yellow detention slip on the corner of my desk. Mr. Slone is kind of a prick like that.

  When I get to lunch there’s an open seat at our usual lunch table, which I assume is mine. Without even going through the lunch line, I walk over and am about to sit down when a tray almost hits me in the face.

  I should’ve just skipped school today.

  Taking a step back, I see that it’s Leah holding the tray out about to claim the open seat. Not wanting to be the little princess she labels me as, I tell her, “Sorry, go ahead.”

  I’m confused why there aren’t enough spots for both of us like there has been the past three weeks. Perusing the table, I notice a newcomer: Makenna. When did she transfer?

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Leah apologizes, but she sets her tray down at the open spot and starts to sit down when Rex rolls his eyes, about ready to stand up to give me his seat.

  “Here. You can sit here,” Makenna offers. I watch as Leah looks at her in disbelief, and I give her a metaphorical high five that would’ve accidentally (okay, purposely) hit Leah in the face. Makenna has to realize what she just did with that little gesture.

  “I’ll just go
outside,” I resolve the issue. I think fresh air might help me wake up anyways.

  “Sit. Leah has something to say to you,” Rex announces to me as he squeezes my arm in support. He gives up his seat to let me sit next to her. I almost groan but decide to be grateful instead. I glance at Benny and Tiffany who are unusually quiet but equally intrigued. Sam looks like a deer in headlights as we await what can easily turn into a cat fight.

  Damn it, I wish Skyler was here.

  “Okay,” I timidly take Rex’s seat next to Leah.

  An awkward few seconds pass, and I’m about to make a sarcastic comment like, “Wow wasn’t that nice of Leah to apologize for being such a bitch to me yesterday?” when she finally squares her shoulders to me. Her perfect Blake Lively dirty blonde beach waves almost hit me when she whips her head around, but I back away just in time.

  “I’m sorry for yesterday. I was out of line. We’re all here to support you in your recovery,” Leah says, sounding more professional than my therapist, Samantha. I want to throw up, but I figure I’m better off just accepting the apology and moving on from this petty shit. No sense in holding a grudge.

  I glance away to try to see Benny out of the corner of my eye, and sure enough he’s rolling his eyes. I telepathically tell him thank you, and then turn back to Leah to say, “It’s okay. I didn’t realize I was being so needy.”

  “You weren’t,” Rex assures me from behind.

  “We’re here for you. Whatever you need,” Benny promises, shooting Skyler-like eyes at me, dark and serious. It isn’t often that Benny resembles Sky, but I’m grateful for it in this instance. It’s nice that halfway through my day every day I get to see almost our entire group for forty-five minutes. But my favorite piece of our puzzle is always missing, and this Leah drama is annoying.