My name is Tyler Thompson
Waking up from general anesthesia, for those of you who haven't had the pleasure, is almost like being born again, but with a complete awareness of life that's just a little dampened. I'd had the odd surgery here and there, but none that I can remember very well. I'd had tubes in my ears at six months. I'd fallen out of a swing and landed on a pine root when I was four, requiring pins in my hip and a body cast for several months – I'm glad I seem to have blocked that from my memory. When I was fifteen, I'd had some cysts that had to be surgically removed. While uncomfortable, it wasn't enough for general, just a local. And, of course my wisdom teeth removal. That was fun.
I'm twenty years old now, and lying in a stiff, cold hospital bed at Herman Memorial in Houston, Texas. My sister – Austin, 23 – is staring out the window, waiting for me to wake up. Yep, we were named for geographical locations. Awesome, right? The names wouldn't have been too out of place if we had been born boys. But, as girls we were picked on.
My sister is the prettier of the two of us, with her straight, milk chocolate hair and her deep blue eyes. We're both pale and short but those are the only physical characteristics we seem to share. She's got high cheekbones and a strong chiseled nose. Her mouth is really very expressive, though if you don't know her well, you'd think all she's capable of is a frown or a blank stare. She really is happy.
I kind of think of us as the female version of the movie Twins. She's Arnold and I'm Danny. Ok, maybe I'm not that bad. I've got large, round, grey pools for eyes. I've still got my baby cheeks, and my hair, while still a shade of brown, is more of a dark chocolate, and wavy. The only difference between us that I like is my nose. It's small and cute and I always thought it looked a little bit like Michelle Pfeiffer's nose. That woman will be gorgeous till the day she dies.
Why Herman Hospital? Two of the bones in my left leg have been broken and I had to have them surgically set with a titanium rod. TibFib open reduction. Whatever that means. Thank God for the insurance. I wasn't in the habit of going to church since before high school, but I wasn't above giving thanks where thanks was due.
"Aus." This was one of my sister's nicknames – terms of endearment. ATX (for the city she was named after), Aussie, Local, and Bat Girl - to name a few. I mumbled her name again. "Austin?" She turned in her seat and leaned forward, a rare smile parting her lips.
"Wake up sleepy head! Or I'll jump up and down on your bed – oops. Ouch! That would hurt huh?" She was way too happy to see me awake. That means she was trying to keep me happy. "You were talkin' some pretty weird stuff while they were pulling you out of it, babe."
"Like what," I asked, yawning. They had me on Vicodin. I hated the stuff. I closed me off and made me itchy and nauseous.
"Gibberish, mostly," she moved over to the bed to straighten the pillows behind me and help me push into a sitting position. "But you kept asking me to explain it to them, like I'd understood anything you were saying. Which I didn't, by the way. But they said that's normal." She shrugged, and settled herself on the edge of the bed.
"How much more time do I have to spend in this place?" I wanted to just be home. I didn't care about the car, or the ticket, or the air cast on my throbbing left leg. I just wanted, my bed, my pillows, and my puppy. "Fuck! Who's got Corgan?"
"Stella."
Stella had been my sister's best friend since Austin's Junior year of high school. I wouldn't ask, and they hadn't said anything, but I knew they were much more than friends. My sister was in and out of relationships with guys, several a year since high school. Stella had had more steady relationships, always with men. But only Stella and I knew that my sister was attracted to both sexes. I have to admit, I think everyone is. It's a conscious decision we make as to who we end up with. If you're only looking in one direction, that's all you're gonna see. If you stop to look around a bit more, things are bound to get a little complicated.
Stella is about five foot five, dirty blonde, green eyed, down to earth, and, oh, did I mention she's a vampire? So pale goes without saying. My sister could do worse.
"I said, they'll let you out tomorrow, if you can master the crutches by dinner."
Austin and I live together in a converted garage apartment on Stella's property. It's in the heart of a sizable wooded community, soon to be annexed by Houston, called Englewood. According to Forbes, it was on the top ten places in the country to live, and though it was obviously inhabited by the wealthy and affluent, it wasn't too elitist – yet.
Stella was wealthy – as most vamps are – and the owner of an independent bookstore near the mall called The Fly Leaf. Austin was the day manager and had met Stella when she started working there as a stocker in high school. I worked there when I couldn't find gainful employment anywhere else, or when they needed a fill in. No doubt, I'd be sitting behind the counter at FL, filling orders and checking out customers till my leg was completely healed.
Aus and I talked some more about the car and my ticket, which I would pay, even though I was convinced the accident hadn't been my fault. I was the only one to get hurt, even. Well, me and the fifty-year-old pine tree that had stopped my car. I hadn't been drinking or under the influence of any other substance; I hadn't even been trying to spare the life of a cute woodland creature darting across my path. I'd just blacked out. For no reason. I couldn't remember being airlifted (though I was told that's what happened) to the hospital. I couldn't remember anything until the brief time I'd come to in the operating room before surgery, when they'd explained the procedure and told me to start counting back from ten. I couldn't remember anything else until I had woken up in this room, looking at my sister staring out into the January rain. I couldn't remember…
That is, until I drifted off to sleep listening to Austin laughing softly at an old sitcom on the hospital TV.
That's when I remembered.
