It's the nausea that wakes me up. The concussion. That feeling of being so sick that I just want to throw up and get it over with. I know I asked the nurses for a bucket, yeah, there it is on my tray table. I reach over and, no, that shoulder's dislocated. I can't reach it with my good arm either.

Over in the corner Mom bookmarks her page and helps me out. "Feeling any better?"

The bucket echoes my "Nope" back at me.

She gently brushes my hair out of my face. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

I take a deep breath and sigh-ow! Bruised ribs. No more deep breaths. The morphine doesn't seem to be cutting it, although I can't feel my face or the wide, black bruise that stains my eyes, my cheeks, and my broken nose.

I don't think I'm going to throw up. I lay back and look at the paneled ceiling. "I'm okay."

Mom says that she's going to go find Dad. He should have been back with dinner by now.

I'm okay. I give myself a few minutes to let that sink in.

Wow, is that my phone? The screen and the casing are cracked, but it still works somehow-I have new messages.

"Hey, Maxine."

Nathan? He speaks slowly, like every word hurts him, and he stops every few seconds to cry.

"I've been thinking about… what you said about standing up to… to him. I don't… have a lot of real friends, not many that really understand me. When I saw you get hurt… What you did was very brave… And I need to be brave now too."

For a moment he just cries into the phone.

"Don't worry. You'll hear all about it on the news."

End of message. What the hell does that mean?

Mom pokes her head through the door and knocks. "I found your dad. He's talking to the Prices. They came to visit you."

Well, fuck, if I'd thought this far ahead maybe I would've jumped off the front of the building.

I see Kate looking down at me, on her hands and knees leaning over the edge of the roof, crying and screaming my name. Okay, too soon for suicide jokes.

"Should I send them in?" asks Mom.

"Yeah."

A minute later Chloe comes in, alone. Someone shuts the door behind her.

She pulls right up next to my bed. "Your parents were happy to see me. Although I'm a little upset that they didn't call to tell me that you jumped off a roof."

It's an understatement. She's ready to scream.

"I guess I can't blame them," she says. "They probably figured I'm not important to you anymore."

"So you found out from the news?" I ask lamely.

"No, I don't watch the news, and Mom and Dad are too busy. I probably would have found out tomorrow from a gossipy nurse-yeah, imagine that. 'Did you hear about that Blackwell student who jumped off a roof yesterday?' Imagine how that would have felt, when I'd have to ask which Blackwell student and they'd tell me your name."

I lean into my pillow, looking past her, off to the side. A tear crosses the bridge of my nose.

"Lucky for you," she continues, "some preppy, blond chick showed up at my house asking if I'd heard about what happened to 'Maxine.'"

Victoria?

Chloe doesn't say anything else. For at least a minute I feel her glare that I can't meet as I cry into my pillow like a child. Whatever my redeeming qualities might be, everything I do manages to hurt her and I don't feel like anything can outweigh that.

When I finally look up she's crying as hard as I am.

A few gasping sobs before, as hard as she can, she screams, "Why'd you fucking do it?"

My eyes burn too hard to keep them open, so I blindly reach out…

...and I feel her tears running down the back of my hand. "For you."

Author's Note: This fic is kind of a sequel, or perhaps a spiritual successor, to my earlier fic, The Precious Gifts I've Stepped All Over. If you enjoyed this fic you'll probably enjoy that one because they're both about Maxine and all her regrets. Also, Maxine gets to meet not-paralyzed Chloe.

I feel like I really put Maxine through hell. Twice. And then pushed her off a roof.