Chapter Twenty Two

The cab pulled up ten minutes later, so Kane and I got out of his car and got into the back seat of the cab. He was silent, like he had lost his voice completely. He was also avoiding looking at me.

   It took fifteen minutes to get to the hospital. I paid the driver, who was an older man with a beard, then Kane and I stumbled out of the car and towards the main hospital entrance. Before we went inside, Kane stopped, just standing there, his eyes half shut. He was in shock, he was drunk, and he needed me. I grabbed his hand, leading him inside.

   At the desk was a plump lady in scrubs, on the phone. Kane wanted to say something, but he just couldn't find the words. I waited a minute, then leaned in towards her.

  "We are looking for Bruce Bryant," I said, trying to focus on her name tag. JULIANNE.

   "One moment," she said, wagging a finger at me.

   I lead Kane to some chairs, across from the desk. He sat and put his hands over his face. I touched his shoulder, but I just wanted to hug him.

   "Miss?" The desk lady said to me. "He's in the E.R., I can have someone take you to the waiting room there."

   I nodded, and a man in yellow scrubs came out of no where suddenly leading us around the corner and down some hallways, through some doors and around another corner. As we walked, I slipped my hand into Kane's and squeezed it.

   "Have a seat here. Someone will come to let you know -"

   "Kane! Oh, thank God!" Carla yelled from across the small room. She ran over, wrapping her arms around him; I dropped his hand and stepped back.

   "Where is he?" Kane asked, finally managing to speak.

   "They took him back to work on him... he was thrown from the car..." Carla said slowly, tears in her eyes.

   Kane fell into one of the chairs, sobbing, and Carla sat beside him, arms around him again. He looked like a child, being comforted after he'd been hurt. But Kane never got hurt, besides the bike incident. Growing up, he played sports, climbed trees, skateboarded - all of that boys stuff - and he never crashed or wiped out. He was just good at everything he did. And, way back then, when I tried and failed, crashed or hurt myself, he encouraged me to try again.

   Now, I felt like I didn't even belong there at all, until Carla looked up at me.

   "Thank you for getting him here," she told me, her eyes puffy.

   I nodded, knowing she'd know I was drunk if I spoke. But she obviously knew Kane was drunk - it wasn't hard to tell. I felt like I was sobering up pretty quickly, though.

    "Your dad is here. He just went outside to call your mom," she went on.

   I nodded again. This was too much. And all of my high school drama felt like nothing compared to this.

   We sat there for what felt like hours. My dad came back in and sat beside me, not saying anything. I wanted to sleep but there was just no way - the hospital was bright and loud. Kane was there, so close, but also so far, like he could have been on another planet. I was thinking about how he'd kissed me, and how I ran away from him. And now we were here.

   Finally, a doctor walked towards us. My heart was racing as Kane jumped out of his chair.

   "He's in critical condition, but alive. His whole body is in shock, he's lost a lot of blood..." Kane seemed frozen again, like he hadn't even heard the words the doctor said. "The next few hours will be crucial. We will update as soon as we can."

   Kane nodded, at least acknowledging him. But Carla lost it, breaking down instantly. My dad stood up and and went to her, immediately hugging her. He looked both strong and like he might break at any moment.

   Kane, after the doctor turned and walked away, said, "I have to go for a walk."

   "I'll stay with Carla," my dad told him.

   And I fell into stride beside Kane, who was quickly leaving the E.R. waiting room. He hadn't spoken to me since we were back at Trenton's, in his car. It felt like days ago, now. Finally, down some hallways, far enough away, he stopped near a vending machine. I watched him slip in two dollar bills and then bang on the buttons. A chocolate bar dropped first, then a bag of pretzels. He tossed me the chocolate bar, still not talking.

   "Kane," I said, dying for him to say something, anything.

   He just opened the bag of pretzels and started crunching on one. His eyes were red and barely open. His hair was messy and sticking out under his blue beanie that he'd put on at some point.

   "Kane," I said again, touching his arm. "He's going to be okay."

   "You don't know that!" he yelled at me, then punched the vending machine hard.

  I stepped back, but only for a second. A moment later he fell, sitting on the cold floor, leaning against the wall, sobbing again. I slid down beside him, grabbing for his hand.

   "I'm here. It's okay," I said in his ear.

   At 4 A.M., a nurse came back out to talk to us. She was smiling, and just said that the doctor would be out soon. When the same young doctor came out also smiling, I felt a flood of relief rush through me.

   "He's stable. Vitals are looking good. But he's not awake yet. Scans look good, so we are hoping he'll wake up soon -"

   Carla burst into tears again, hugging the doctor. "Oh, thank you," she told him.

   I was much more sober now, but my head hurt and I was so exhausted. Kane looked at me, then squeezed my hand. Within a few minutes he was fast asleep, his head leaning back on the plastic chair, still holding my hand.

   "Are you okay?" my dad whispered to me.

   "Just tired," I said, nodding.

   "You should try to sleep, too. I'm going to go call mom to give her the update."

   I forced a smile at him and closed my eyes.

~~~

   When I woke up, I was shivering, my head on Kane's shoulder with his arms around me, tight. Also, there was a blanket covering both of our laps. Confused, I looked around, and then at the clock. 7:30A.M. I didn't see my dad or Carla anywhere.

   My neck was sore and I tried to move, to stretch, but Kane was still fast asleep. Somehow, I managed to get his arm out from around me and slither out; he didn't even stir. My head was pounding. I needed water. And then suddenly my dad was there, in front of me, as if appearing from thin air.

   "Marley, wake Kane. Bruce is awake," he said, his face still looked off, like he still wasn't sure if this was real life or a dream.

   I shook Kane's shoulder, gently at first, then harder. When he shifted, his eyes fluttered open. He saw me, and I knew it took him a second to realize where we were and why. I saw him notice the blanket that was still on both of our laps.

   "What time is it?" he asked, yawning.

   "7:30. My dad just said that your dad's awake," I replied.

   Kane looked right at me, holding my gaze for a moment too long, then tossed off the blanket and stood up. I wanted that moment to last longer, but I knew better. I was the one who had ran away, all those hours ago. I didn't actually expect him to want to stay and talk about it.

   I stayed in the waiting room, even though Kane paused, waiting for me, before he headed back to see his dad. I felt strange, like something was happening that was out of my control. I was now very hung over, and my stomach was just doing flip-flops. I sat down again, pulling out my phone.

   Bruce is awake, I sent a text to my Mom.

   And then, to Jessie, I'm sorry I took off. Did you get home safe? Were you in trouble?

   I crashed at Trenton's. Called my mom again and asked if I could sleepover at your place instead. She must have liked you.

  I smiled. Oh good.

  Jessie: Everything okay? Why did you and Kane leave in a cab?

  Me: His Dad was in a car accident last night. We spent the night at the hospital.

   Jessie: Oh shit. He okay?

   Me: I'm not sure. I hope so.

   I closed my eyes again, just to think. My mind went from Kane kissing me in Trenton's basement, to me talking him out of driving - drunk - to the hospital, to us, just now, sleeping next to each other in hospital chairs. None of this made any sense.

   I really needed water, and some real food. Now that Kane was with his dad, I decided to head down to the hospital cafe, on my own.