I pull up to the emergency room entrance and the attending physician looks in the back seat. I can tell by his face that he assumes I did something to her. That I hurt her. The thought sickens me to my core. He opens the door and sees all of the blood and her disjointed body and calls for backup. I start to get out of the car to help when the guy tells me, "You can't park it here. You can go park your car in the visitor lot over there." He nods in the direction of the lot.
I jump back in, close my door and I watch them load her on to a gurney and wheel her in through the sliding doors. Shit, what am I going to do? I walk back into the hospital, hoping that they got her back right away. I walk to the admitting desk and approach the young pretty attendant.
"Excuse me, hi, that girl that was just brought through can you make sure that Jack Mitchell attends to her? That's my father and I want him to treat her." I sternly tell the girl, who is obviously mind-stripping me. Yeah, I get that all the time, sweetheart.
She puckers her lips and bats her eyes. "Of course, I'll page him right away. Would you like to speak to him yourself, Mr. Mitchell?"
"Yes, please." I take a seat.
I feel a hand on my shoulder about fifteen minutes later. "Ben? What's going on? I was told to see the young woman who was just brought in. I just looked her over and she is pretty banged up. What happened?"
I hear a little accusation in his voice. What did I expect? I was thrown out of three schools in four years back in London for tearing people up. But I would never lay a finger on a woman, especially one as small as her.
I explain, and I hope from what I described, he can treat her better.
He nods, and I think he believes me, "I will have the attending OB/GYN examine her, if that's the case. And the rest, well, I can fix her up."
I nod.
"Do you want to wait to see her?" my father asks. Do I? I shouldn't care.
I think about it for a moment. "No. I don't even know the girl. What good would it do if I stayed? I would probably just freak her out. Finding some weird guy waiting around for her."
He nods. "I'll see you at Sunday's dinner then?"
"Yep." And then my father is off, back to work.
I don't know how to take care of someone other than Caroline, but that's different. Maybe I can ask Dad about how she is in a few days. Maybe I should just forget about it. I have no fucking idea. I am sitting in a hospital waiting room wracking my brain on what I should do, seeing that helpless girl on the floor so hurt…I don't know.
I'm not ready to handle something like this. I got to get out of here. I need a drink and a pair of legs to get lost between, hopefully that'll take the edge off.
What's wrong with me?
I feel much better this morning when I wake up in the hospital bed. Well, physically better. My heart could use some work.
Apparently I can't just call a taxi to come get me, and I am forced to decide between calling my mom or Erin. I could call James, but he already feels the need to protect me, and I don't want to worry him anymore. Ugh, if I don't call my mom and ask her to get me, she will eventually find out and rip me a new one.
"Tess! Where have you been? I have been trying to get a hold of you the past few days." Yup, that's my mom, not even a hello, just straight to the point. Gotta love her.
"I have been really busy at work, school and I even made a new friend."
"Oh, that's great, Tess! We will have to get together this week and catch up." Ha. Little does she know that time is now.
I sigh. "That's why I am calling, Mom. I kind of need you to pick me up at the hospital."
She gasps. "Oh my God, sweetie! What happened? Why didn't you call me sooner? What hospital? I am on my way. What happened?"
I tell her which hospital and what floor. "I'll explain everything when you get here OK, mom?"
She promises she'll be there in twenty minutes.
As I wait, I glance at my phone and see that Ben never tried to call or text me. After I spilled my heart and guts all over the floor for him about that night, he didn't say anything. Couldn't give me one good answer to as why he didn't stay to see if I was all right. Not one damn word. He just walked out the door...again.
Whatever. I knew it would happen. He got what he wanted and this was his perfect opportunity to get out. Picking an angst song on my iPod, I close my eyes and just breathe.
I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes my mom is next to my bed just staring at me. Yeah like that's not going to make my blood pressure spike!
"Jesus! Mom!" I scream. "What is wrong with you? You almost gave me a heart attack!"
She looks sad. "I am sorry, Tess. I was just thinking about when you were a little girl and you were having a pillow fight with your friends and you slipped on one, and fell face first into the wooden coffee table. Cracking your head right open and needing stitches."
I touch my forehead where the scar is still visible, even now. "Mom, I am sorry I didn't call you last night, I was just so tired from the stitches, blood transfusion, and being doped up on morphine."
"Blood transfusion? What the hell happened, Tess?" Oh, here we go, ladies and gentlemen, Miss. Blowing Things Out of Proportion is up to plate! OK, maybe I get a little of that from her myself…
I sigh, take in a deep breath of air, and tell the story. I blame her for my clumsy gene. I leave out all of the Ben parts, though. It's not worth it to him, apparently, so I may as well forget all about it myself.
As I check out, I am told to set up an appointment with Dr. Mitchell in a week. Shit! So much for forgetting about Ben, huh?
I gather up my bag and put one arm through my jacket, seeing as I have a massive bandage/cast thing compassing most of my left hand. At the outpatient entrance, the nurse who was attending me last night approaches me.
"So, that guy that came to visit you last night, he was really hot. Like really hot." She's gushing in a not so professional manner but I indulge her.
"What about him?"
She smiles mischievously and hands me a small piece of paper. "Can you give him my number?" What the…
"What the fuck? Are you kidding me? Are you trying to hook up with a guy that you don't even know and for all you do know, but don't seem care, that he just might be MY boyfriend?"
She eyes me, in my wheelchair. "Honestly, I think I am more his type." She turns and leaves.
Seriously? I look down at the paper with the number scribbled on there—in pink ink, nonetheless—gag—and consider shredding it up. But you know what, if I ever do see Ben again, why should I cock-block him? I'll give it to him yeah shove it right up his ass…
At home, I call James. I know he would have visited me in the hospital, but he has a life and is busy with his new job, designing this new building in the city.
I tell him what happened.
"You should have called me, Tess," he says, "no matter what I was doing at the time, it's not as important as you will ever be. I mean it." He gushes, aww my big brother the softy, but I love him for that.
"Either way I am fine, I am home safe and sound."
He sighs with obvious relief and promises to see me tomorrow.
"I love you," he says, "have a good night and tell your mom I said hi."
I get out of the shower; my mom is still out getting food. I reach for my iPod when my phone buzzes.
"1 private message"
Shit. Chatz chat room. How the hell did I never log out? Still woozy from the meds, I open it without thinking.
Big_Ben: I'm sorry.
This time I log out. Turn my phone off. I want a drink, but I know I can't because of the freaking meds. I'm feeling a little pissy now. I stomp to my music dock instead and crank up some Shinedown and start belting out my voice along with the lyrics about being worn out and that it's over. Is it over?
Now if I could only open a tube of paint and really let loose...damn hand. My door opens and my mom walks in with food. "What are you doing? You're supposed to me resting and I find
you in here moshing?"
"The music is calming me down."
"That loud? How can that be relaxing?"
I smile and shrug.
My mom knows me well enough to not get on me about listening to music. I return my butt to the couch the same red couch that Ben had kissed me on. The same couch I felt something for him on. As I eat, we chitchat about Mom's job at the bank and my schoolwork. Once we are finished eating, I can barely keep my eyes open, so my mom helps me to my bed and tucks me in. Yes, actually tucks me in. And you know what? It's really nice.
She kisses my forehead. "Get some sleep, sweetie. I'll call you tomorrow."
"I love you too, Mom, and thank you for everything."
I am awakened by a pounding on my front door. that or my pain meds wore off and I am dying.
"Tess Martin, I know you're in there, and you are a horrible best friend for not calling to inform YOUR best friend that you were hospitalized!" It's Erin.
I groan, roll my eyes, and slowly make my way to the front of my apartment. "I'm coming." I grumble.
"Hey you," I greet her as soon as she's inside, as innocent-sounding as possible.
"Don't you 'hey' me, Missy! Once I heard that some art geek was rushed to the ER for an accident, I knew it was you. Why didn't you tell me? Call or text me?"
Wait. "Art geek?"
She throws her hands up in the air. "Yeah, I overheard some of my business classmates talking, when I heard…their words not mine."
I tell her the story but leave out the Ben drama.
"Holy crap, girl! I am so sorry for even being upset. I was just so worried. I know we haven't been friends that long, but I think of you like a sister." Her admission warms my heart; I have always wanted a sister.
I sigh and lean in for a one-handed hug and kiss her on the cheek. "Thank you for worrying, and I love you too, Erin, you and your dirty mind." I finish with a wink. Then she brings up what I was really hoping she wouldn't bring up...
"So, did Ben come to see you in the hospital last night?" From her tone I can't tell if she knows something or not.
"Um…yeah."
She cocks her head to one side. "And? You sound leery on the topic. What happened?"
"Well, I don't think we will be seeing each other any longer." And as easy as it came out, it's not so easy to accept. I started to trust Ben; it was all feeling good. But knowing what I know now ...
She eyes me suspiciously. I have never had a great poker face. "There's something you're not telling me. I want to know what's got you so hush-hush. You may as well just tell me, before I torture it out of you."
"Can you accept the quick version?" She nods.
I tell her the story of the concert. The one three years ago.
"Ben was the one who saved me," I conclude. And with that statement, my head cleared. I no longer felt the static of an off-air TV channel, but rather the picture is coming in clear, digitally clear. Ben saved me.
I gasp and throw my hands to my face, and start to sob. I let it all out. I laid some heavy stuff on him last night and he left. He didn't even feel the need to tell me his side of the story. I shouldn't have blown up at him the way I did, but I have never talked to anyone about what had happened that night. But what hurts the most is he didn't feel strong enough to talk about it, then or now. He chose to walk away a second time.
Erin, being the amazing friend she is, can read me like a book. "You should call him, Tess." She didn't say it like her normal, 'call him for some booty' kind of call. She looked soft around her edges, which was a different side to Erin. I was used to the ball-buster Erin.
As much as I would love to hear his voice right now, I just don't think I could bring myself to do it. I told him everything and he chose to, well, he didn't choose me. I'm just not worth it.
"No. I don't think that's a good idea, Erin."
And she leaves it at that.
"So how are things with Mark?" I change the topic.
"Well, he's at work a lot. I seem to only get the booty call at two a.m." She says with an eye roll.
It doesn't take a dummy to see that even though she is playing it off as nothing, it hurts. "I know you're a nympho and all, but I know you better than that Erin."
"Know what?"
I give her forehead a little smack with the palm of my hand, "That you really have feelings for the guy. You just need to tell him. Life's too short. And from what I saw the other night at Chatz you couldn't get enough of the guy. When he was talking, you leaned in and actually listened. Then, when I was leaving with Ben you were all over him. That's something."
"Maybe." She blushes. Hey that's my bit…
"So, let him know how you feel." I say as-matter-of-factly.
Erin stares at me blankly. "Says the one who won't open up to Ben?"
"Hey! I told him how I felt."
"Yeah, but really Tess? He didn't know you then. He took the time and consideration to make sure his father saw you. To make sure you had the best care he knew possible."
Damn. I effed up.
I get Dave to cover for the rest of my week. I can't even imagine trying to make coffee and work a register with one hand. I'd just get hurt. Dave was pretty cool about it. He was insistent on coming over after work, but I wasn't in the mood. He then hissed out "One day you'll let me in."
So I passed the time in my small apartment, leaving only to walk down the block to the deli for food and coffee. I slept, cranked my music and attempted to paint. I know the way I acted or reacted was not the best. I bet he has forgotten about me. I tried to forget all about Ben Mitchell.
Epic failure.
It seemed like every song on my iPod reminded me of him. On Wednesday while listening to Blink-182, I thought about how if things were a little different that he could have fell in love with the girl at the rock show… instead of carrying her bloody body to the emergency room.
James brought me lunch and I caught him up. He was still hurt that I didn't call him first. But by the end of his visit, he seemed OK. But I have a feeling he will be checking up on me a little more now. Great.
On Thursday while listening to Good Charlotte, I thought about the secret I had held in for all these years. How we all have our secrets and want to hide them away. So no one will know we are weak. And you know what? Good Charlotte really seems to feel me right now, so I am screaming the songs out. Yes, this is my kind of therapy. Some people pray… I rock out.
By Friday, I can barely talk from scream singing my lungs out. Today, it's Pink. God, this woman is a goddess! It's late and I dance around my apartment in my boy shorts and sports bra. The lyrics make me cry, asking for reasons. Any kind of reason whether big or small just offer me something. I know we had something special.
By the end of the song, I am broken. I feel Ben everywhere. In my headphones, my speakers, the smell of him on my couch, and on my body. My heart. I need this man; I can understand what he did, even though I still need to hear it. But I feel like we have a connection that most people don't have. I haven't had any pain medication for twenty-four hours. I need a drink and I need my best friend.
I call Erin.
She arrives twenty minutes later, bearing booze. A lot of booze, I see as I read labels: "Vodka, tequila, lime juice, cranberry juice and whiskey?"
"Damn straight! I didn't know what you were in the mood for and I know you like your rum and cokes but I think tonight calls for something a little different."
"Well, my friend, you have no idea how much I need to get hammered."
She laughs. "Well, let's see, when we met you were a virgin. I have to ask; have you ever been drunk?"
I shake my head. And she hops around the room in a laughing fit. "So in a way I am busting your drunken cherry tonight?"
I laugh and give her a giant hug. "Aw, hey, what's wrong? No crying or getting all emotional UNTIL your drunk."
"Get to pouring, my friend," I tell her. And she eagerly gets to work on my first margarita…ever.
"S
o what do you think?" she asks after I take my first sip.
I scrunch my face with the burn of the tequila. "I like it. Bartender, I'll have another!" I say as I slam my glass down on the counter.
Erin smiles devilishly. "No. You, my girl, are taking a shot."
She pours tequila into a little glass. "Just toss it back, don't let it linger in your mouth and just swallow...but I am sure you know how to do that by now." She winks at me.
I pick up a spoon and throw it at her. "So not funny, Erin!" but I can't keep a serious face right now, and I think about Ben. Shit. This is why I wanted to get drunk. Here goes the shot. I do what I am told and it freaking burns!
I rasp out, seeking a clean breath. "How do people do these things one right after the other?" I ask Erin.
She shrugs. "Guess after the first couple, your mouth goes numb, that or you're too drunk to feel anything." Makes sense.
"In that case, give me another."
She does as she's told. "So, why the need to get drunk? Boy troubles? Is that why I am here instead of him?"
I slam back the second shot.
Gripping the counter with my one good hand, letting the gold liquid make its way down to my stomach, when I finally answer I can feel the alcohol hitting my head. "You could say that."
My lips unzip and I pour my guts out and tell Erin everything. By the time I am done we are on the red sofa and I have had three shots of tequila, and I'm working on a strong vodka cranberry.
Erin doesn't interrupt, but lets me get it out. When I am finally done she puts her two cents in. "I don't blame you for being angry with him. He saves you years ago and leaves you, but you didn't know each other then. Him, walking out on you a second time in the hospital after the time you spent together, is fucked up.
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