Chapter Two

            After I made my little scene, Doc scolded me for my behavior and for walking on my injured leg before he ushered me into a room to get my crutches fitted. Once they were perfect for my 5'9 frame, Doc directed me to Aiden's room and told me to begin settling in. When I finally got there, I was ready for another match with Aiden, the boxing bell ringing tauntingly in my head. However, he wasn't there.

Aiden’s side of the room was completely decorated as if a teenage boy lived there on a daily basis. Band posters covered the walls, an eight ball beanbag chair sat by the window, and the comforter on his bed was a navy blue, with brown fluffy blanket at the end. A guitar was propped by his bedside table; his desk was parallel to his bed and was covered with trophies, pictures, notebooks and scrap paper—most of them drawings. On the back of his chair was a faded football jacket, the leather sleeves white and the rest a light blue.

With a sigh, I crutch my way over to my cot. On the bed was a pillow, some folded sheets, a plain comforter, as well as a small suitcase full of the necessities for the duration of my stay, which I had stowed away here at the hospital. I opened it up silently and took inventory: jeans, jumper, a couple shirts, pajamas (oversized shirt and some comfy shorts), toothbrush, comb, and a couple of my favorite movies to watch because hospitals don't have any good channels. Once I knew everything was in order, I slowly transferred my things into a spare cabinet.

“What, couldn't get enough of me?”

I flinched in surprise, before I spun around and saw Aiden propped up against the door, with his eyebrow raised and a frown on his face, his mouth slightly curled at the ends.

I scowled, slapping a hoodie of mine into a drawer and slamming it closed. “You wish.”

I continued unpacking, ignoring his presence entirely. Aiden huffs.

“If you are going to stay in my room, I have to inform you on a couple rules.”

I look up at him then, just as he was crossing the room towards his desk, walking with a slight limp.

He caught me staring as he turned around, and I raised an eyebrow in question.

“It's from an accident.” He said matter-of-factly.

I nodded as he crossed to the center of the room. “Okay, imagine a line down middle. You do not cross my side of my room. Ever.”

I roll my eyes, but Aiden ignored it and continued. “Do not invade my privacy, do not annoy me, and don’t even engage with me. And I swear to god, if you play anything remotely related to Taylor Swift—”

“For your information, I'm not one of those stereotypical white girls. So please don't put me in categories until you actually know me.” I said, crossing my arms angrily.

Aiden throws his hands in the air. "Great. A feminist!"

            “What, you have something against the rights of women?”

            Aiden pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are engaging.”

            I shrug, smirking. “I try to be.”

            He looks up at me then. “Well, stop it.”

            I pout. “Aw, what are ya gonna do? Tattle on me?”

            “Don’t you have something better to do?”

            “Nope!” I plop down onto my cot, dropping my crutches to the floor and propping my injured leg onto a cushion. I grab my book from the outside pocket of my suitcase and flip to the dog-eared page.

            “No family to annoy?” he mocks, as he slumps onto his own bed.

            “Nonexistent.” I lied, flipping to the next page. “What about you? Got any family to boss around?”

            “I told you not to invade my privacy.”

            “Hey, you asked the question first!” I exclaim. “Besides, we’re living together, might as well tell me your sob stories now instead of later.”

            He paused for a moment. “Same as you I guess; nonexistent.”

            I flip to the next page. “Hmm.”

            I could feel his eyes on me, as I silently read my book. The Great Gatsby: Mmm. Anything with a twinge of Fitzgerald in it always perked my interest. Hemingway was a close second, but the way Fitzgerald’s words flowed across the page, soft and smooth as silk… man, I could drift aimlessly through those words.

            “You know, it’s not polite to stare.” I finally said, after reading five to six pages.

            “I’m not staring. I’m observing.”

            “Tomato, tom-a-to,” I wave my hand absently. “Potato, Pot-a-to. Same difference.”

            “There is a difference; they’re not pronounced the same.”

            I looked up from my book and pointed at him. “Ah, but they have the same meaning.”

            Aiden sighed, and from the corner of my eye I could see him shaking his head. “Kill me now.” He mumbled.

            “You can’t say those kinds of things in a hospital.” I gasped, snapping my book shut. “Someone might actually take you seriously!”

            He scowled. “Ha ha,” he said dryly. “Says the one who injures herself every day.”

            I narrowed my eyes at him, turning my body towards his direction. “Now you listen here buddy—”

            “Aw, what are you gonna do? Tattle on me?” Aiden mocks, smirking.

            I clamp my mouth closed, and scowled at him instead.

            A nurse knocked on the door. “Mr. Flowers?” she said, disrupting the stare down between Aiden and I. “I’m here to take you to your five O’clock appointment.”

            He groans, running his hand through his short hair before he slowly stood up. “Alright, alright.”

            He walked towards the door, grabbing the football jacket on the chair and swinging it over his shoulders. He was about to leave the room when he spun around and pointed a finger at me. “If you even think about touching anything in my room—”

            “Our room.” I corrected.

            “—I will make it my personal duty to make sure your stay here at Hotel Aiden’s Room is as miserable as possible. Got it?”

            “Yes mom.”

            With that, he promptly turned and followed the nurse out of the room and down the hall.

            Once he was gone, I let out a frustrated sigh. How can one guy get on my nerves so much? Usually I’m pretty good at handling jerks, but this one must be at the top of the Jerk-o-meter scale.

            I collected my crutches and stood up steadily, before I resumed in transferring my belongings. Once I had finished putting my clothes away, making my bed, and stowing away my suitcase, did I finally sat down onto my bed again.

            A nurse came into the room then, a redheaded lady with such a huge smile I feared that it was going to break her face.

            “Hi! I’m Nurse Becky!” she exclaims, carrying a tray in her hands. “I’m here to deliver your dinner for the next couple nights until you are strong enough to move around.”

            “I can move around.” I said defensively.

            Her eyes went wide. “Oh, of course you can! I mean, strong enough that you could walk down the mess hall.” She places the tray at the edge of my bed.

            I peeked over at the tray to see what wonders I had to eat tonight, before Becky excitingly cut off my thought process.

            “Smashed potatoes, steamed veggies, and grilled chicken breast!” she said, almost bouncing where she stood. “And, if you are very good and eat all your veggies, you can have a chocolate pudding for dessert!”

            I looked up at her. “Wow, that’s some deal.”

            “I know, isn’t it?” she smiled. “Helps get the kids to eat right!”

            “And you reward them with pudding.” I said, staring blankly at her. “That is full of sugar and artificial flavors.”

            He smile faltered, as realization crossed her face. “Oh.”

            She stood there, looking like she was fighting back tears, which forced me to jump in and say, “Well, thanks so much for bringing me dinner Becky.”

            She seemed to snap out of it then, for she smiled brightly. “No problem! I’ll come back in an hour or two to collect your tray.”

            “Okay, see you then.”

            She nodded, before she quickly left the room.

            I shook my head, before I unraveled my paper napkin and took out the plastic fork and knife that was hidden within. I ate silently, humming a tune to myself. Once I was done, I placed my tray on the floor at the edge of my bed.

            I let my head fall into the cushion of my pillow, and I sighed. I checked my watch and saw that it was close to 6 o’clock. Aiden must be coming back soon.

            With that thought, a sly smile broke out slowly on my lips, before I reached into my pocket and pulled out my iPhone, scrolling through my music until I found the fairly large selection of Taylor Swift songs.