Mercedes watches as Puck walks to the door an inexplicable force tugging at her being in his direction. She couldn't reconcile her conflicting emotions. On one hand, she detests his presence in her hospital room, yet, at the same time she desperately needs him to stay. Maybe it was because she didn't want to be left alone with her insufferable parents when tensions were running so high, or it was possibly attributed to some indefinable reaction to him she was experiencing because he seemed to be the only person focusing on her for the moment. Whatever it is my dad has no right to decide what is best for me. Not that it's really about me. I can't believe my dad. He's such a jerk. This guy is here for me; or, I think he's here for me. I don't know. If I believe anything he said before Mom came bursting in here then he is definitely here for me. I hate this. I hate all of this. My dad being a first-class, dirt monger and my mom being the doting mother all of a sudden, and this guy-what's his name…Nate…no, what do they call him…Noel…Noah? Noah Puck? I don't know, but I am definitely sure I don't want him here, especially not with all of this going on. Well not completely sure, but I mean I don't really know him, and although him being here is better than him not being here, I'm not sure if he needs to be here. I look at my dad looking at my mother with a smug look on his face. He always has to get what he wants. It has always been that way even when their relationship wasn't so messed up.
Her eyes still trained on his retreating back, Mercedes admired his audacity. She was proud that he had stood up to her father; she had never witnessed anyone stand up to her father for anything. Narrowing her eyes at her father, Mercedes recognizes the inception of hatred simmering within. He didn't have to always be so cruel. I feel Mom rubbing my hair jerking my attention immediately from father dearest to her nimble fingers grazing my scalp, and my mind begins reeling. She hasn't done this since I was 10 and she and Dad were happy. I just wish they would just leave. I don't need mom, the wino, placating her negligence or my absentee daddy making roll call. But I'm not quite ready for him to go just yet.
"Wait!" I barely get the anxiety ridden word out of my mouth as the door is about to close, and before I am about to succumb to defeat I see the door stall.
Puck's hand halts on the knob. He can't believe his ears, literally. Did she just tell me to wait? Does she want me to stay? Was she even talking to me?
Chancing a glance at the door, Mercedes notices the door has not yet closed. She visually implores her mother, cursing her diminished energy, to do something she couldn't find the strength to do. Gazing into her daughter's forlorn eyes her heart breaks with realization. Mrs. Jones couldn't conceptualize the bond between the teenagers: she wasn't even sure they actually knew each other, from what Noah had told her she was sure they weren't close friends. However, she knew that what her precious daughter needed was someone who would be there for her. Something she wasn't confident her baby girl would allow her to do. Caren seeing the need in Mercedes' doe-eyed expression calls out to the boy being forced from the one place she knew he wanted to be.
"Noah, wait. Come back. Mer-" before Mrs. Jones can finish her name; Mercedes pokes her mother in the side. "I mean, you don't have to leave." Looking at her daughter Caren lips I'm sorry as Puck re-enters the room.
"Are you kidding me?"
"What Reese? What's the problem?"
"You mean to tell me that you want this boy here? We need to talk to our daughter about what's going on with her, and you want this outsider here for that." Mr. Jones' voice was steadily rising as the vein in his forehead bulged. He couldn't believe his wife.
"Look, he wants to be here and…" Caren trails off not wanting to embarrass her daughter.
"I want him to be here." Mercedes voice is barely a whisper as she speaks. She doesn't know when it happened, but somewhere between his argument with her father and him walking out of the door, she felt the absence of his presence unsettling.
"Bambi, you don't know what you want. You tried to kill yourself for Christ's sake." Reese's tone of voice embodies a gentleness Mercedes only holds in memory from her childhood despite his biting words.
"Reese!"
"No, Caren! I have some things I want to say to Bambi and I don't want him here."
Tears augment Mercedes eyes as she sees her mother lower her head in defeat. This is how it always was. He would yell and scream and she would give into his every demand. She doesn't know if it was always like this for them; for she vaguely remembers a time when she was a toddler of them being the best parents she could have ever had. Yet, all too vivid is her memory of the scene playing out before her now. Different scenario, same outcome. Things would never change with them. Mom was always weak when it came to Dad, even when things were good, but I am not her. I don't want to be her. I may have been her before…before this. I don't think I knew how to be anyone else, it just seemed easier than fighting all the time. I wasn't worth fighting for, and Mom was the perfect example for self-esteem. But now, after this, I don't want to be her. I know I don't want to be her, to be me anymore. Not that I know who I want to be, but one person I will not be is my mom.
"I want him to stay Daddy" Mercedes' feeble utterance virtually mute. She had never spoken up to her father, had never seen it done until Puck.
"Bambi, he can't stay." His voice softens even more than before at the site of his daughter crying. Sure, he wanted to yell. To scream at his daughter for her lack of tact, but she was his Bambi and he couldn't stand to see her like this.
"But it's my room, and he's been…" she takes a deep breath releasing it in a huff, "he saved my life, Daddy, and I think…if he wants to be here…then he can stay." I chance a glance in Noah's direction, but he's not looking up. His head is hanging down, probably uncomfortable with the palpable tension bumbling around in her hospital room.
"Fine. Fine. If that's what you want." Her father throws up his hands in defeat. He wanted to do this without embarrassing his daughter. To talk about the elephant in the room without him being there. Despite what she thought, he loved her. She's his Bambi. Sure, he hasn't been around her much in the past few years, and it wasn't because he didn't love her; it was just that he couldn't stand to be around her. She was so much like her mother. It infuriated him that his beautiful daughter could turn out like her. He lightly treads to her bedside. He didn't want to do it, but he needed answers. Reese doesn't look his daughter in her eyes as he speaks because he knows this is going to hurt and possibly be the most uncomfortable situation either he or his daughter would be a part of. "Why did you do it?"
"Huh." Mercedes can't believe her ears.
"I said, why did you do it." There is an edge to Mercedes' father's voice that is all too familiar to her. She braces herself because if she was right, which she often was, he was about to lay into her with an unbridled tongue.
I look into my daddy's emotion filled eyes beseeching him not to go there. It isn't only that Noah is in the room, but she really doesn't want to talk about that at all, especially with him. "Daddy, please."
"No. I'm sorry, but you wanted him to stay. How could you be so…so stupid? Suicide? Why would you be so selfish? How could you leave your mother and me?" Feeling tears well up in his eyes, Reese tries to force them back. He doesn't cry. But he was hurt and scared for his daughter, but he won't cry now in front of her, but later when he is alone he will definitely cry. Guilt bombards his heart, maybe it is his fault. That couldn't be possible, so, he fists it away with his present anger. Anger to mask the guilt scourging his insides. "Bambi you have a great life, you're mom and I provide for you well. Most people would kill to have your life; shoot, I would kill to have your life, and here you are trying to kill yourself. Bambi, why would you do such a thing?" Reese was angry with his daughter. He couldn't grasp why someone who has as much as she does would attempt to take her life. If things were so bad she should have told someone.
"Answer me, Mercedes!"
"Reese!"
"Shut up Caren. I'm talking."
"No! I will not let you talk to my baby; not like that! Not right now!" Caren says practically screaming.
"Okay. I won't say anything else to our daughter, but you… you and I need to talk. Now." Dr. Jones walks out of the room with Dr. Caren trailing closely behind him, after giving Mercedes a quick peck on the forehead.
The two occupying the hospital room remain silent, except for the quietly sobbing Mercedes. Puck finally ventures a glance at the girl in the hospital bed, and what he sees breaks his heart. Here she is alive. Alive for heaven's sake and her father is only thinking about himself. He should be glad his daughter didn't succeed in murdering herself, but he's angry. What a douche. English Girl has stopped making sounds; probably because she finally realizes that I'm still in the room. I don't know if I should or if she wants me to, but I walk over to her bed. I stand there briefly debating my next move, but just as I am about to back away, she sniffles.
She braces herself as the sobs threaten to overtake her body; however, before her first tear can spill onto her cheek his arms encase her. Mercedes instinctively jerks from his grasp but not his arms. He is holding her too tightly for her to escape the unavoidable warmth of his arms. She glares daggers into his eyes. What is he doing? Mercedes attempts to move again causing him to secure his loosened hold.
"I don't know if you believed me when I said it, but I'm not going nowhere. So just…" Puck motions for her to lean on his shoulder. This may be harder than I thought.
She tries to resist, but her body begins to tremble as the torrent of pain jostling inside of her compels her to oblige his offer. She loses it completely.
I feel her totally break down. I feel the burdens she's been carrying fall on my shoulders and I know I have to haul them with her. I see her mom come to the door, but turns around and walks away wearing a teary smile. After nearly 5 minutes of pure gut wrenching weeping, she looks up at Puck and tries to speak. The words are in audible, but the look in her eyes is unmistakable. An apology? She wants to apologize to me?
"Shhh. It's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay."
Mercedes closes her eyes resting her head on his chest. Nothing is ever okay. This…me…will never be okay. Just as I finally calm down the door opens and a doctor walks in. Just great.
"Miss Jones, you're awake. Where are your parents? I would like for them to be here for this."
She doesn't look up at the doctor. Mercedes doesn't even acknowledge his presence. Puck notices and speaks for her.
"They are out. They said something about needing to talk."
"Okay, well, I am glad you are doing better Miss Jones. I am Dr. Keyes; I don't know if you have had a chance to talk with your parents, but I would like to go over what happened and what is going to happen next." The doctor looks intently at the distant teenager. She is clearly awake and purposely ignoring him. This troubles him deeply. The young man holding the patient nods as if to tell the doctor to continue. "You were brought in yesterday for an overdose. You flat lined and needed resuscitation. They pumped your stomach to rid it of the toxic contents. You have been out of it since then. Now that you are awake, I will send a nurse in to check your vitals and order you something to eat. You will be held here for observation for a few more days, two at the most, for observation. I will be back later to speak with your parents. For now just try to get some rest and eat something."
Dr. Keyes leaves the room and within minutes, the nurse arrives. She tries to engage Mercedes in conversation, lighten the mood, but Mercedes blankly stares past her. Seeing that that wasn't working, she gives up resorting to only doing her job nothing more, nothing less.
The food arrives quicker than expected, and I try to urge her to eat but she refuses simply laying her head on my chest crying silently. So, I scoot back a little so that my back is resting on the headboard with English Girl settled comfortably on my chest. I hold her like this until she falls asleep, and even then, I don't let go. I don't want to disturb her. Today has been tough; what should have been a happy moment turned into an anger fest directed at her all too quickly. This feels right to Puck for an indiscernible reason, aside from the fact that she allowed him literally to be her shoulder to cry on. He was acutely aware of the fact that she may merely be choosing the lesser of two evils. There was her mother who, although he knew she would forgive, she wouldn't bring herself to take comfort in her consoling because of her anger; while there was Puck who was semi-neutral. He hadn't directly contributed to her problems, though he believed differently, thus, his shoulder was the best choice. He found himself grateful for the opportunity to do as he promised. Be there.
They both remain as they are for at least a couple of hours. Puck gently caresses Mercedes' hair while she lay perched on his chest quietly snoring. She looks peaceful, despite all that she has been through over the past 24 hours, and it makes Puck's lips curl into a smile. Because even though she is asleep and turmoil is swirling all around her, her inner strength, her essence still shines through. Lost in her aura, Puck barely notices his cell phone ringing. When he does it's too late. Mercedes is already waking. He gently slides off the bed signaling to her that he has to take the call. "It's my mom." He attempts to walk away but she grabs his hand.
I don't know why I grab his hand. All I know is as soon as he moves away from me the peaceful calm I am feeling is washed away by an inexorable agony. I squeeze his hand when he tries to pull away begging him to just maintain contact. I see in his eyes that he really wants to talk to his mother in private, but I'm selfish; I can't let go. Relief floods her when he turns his back to her with her hand still in his. Loosing herself in the warmth of his touch, she doesn't realize when he has finished talking to his mom.
"Love you too Mom."
He turns around, without releasing her hand, to face English Girl who is lying on her back with her eyes closed. She is not sleep because she isn't doing that slight snore thing she was doing before. He continues to stand there just looking at her. Puck inadvertently rubs his thumb along her knuckles shocking Mercedes causing her eyes to flicker open casting a questioningly glare at Puck. Noticing she still hasn't let go of his hand, he decides to ignore her instead because there are questions he can't answer, at least not right now. Nudging her over, he sits down beside her on the bed. Almost as if it was her second nature, Mercedes places her head on his shoulder.
"My mom says that I have to go home tonight. I don't want to, but she says I need to shower, eat, go to school. Whatever. She's coming to pick me up in a little while. If your mom isn't back when she gets here, I'll tell her to wait for me until your mom does show up." Puck waits for her response, but only gets a nod. The teenager becomes frustrated with the beautiful girl resting beside him. Mercedes hasn't spoken since her butthole of a father snapped on her. She has to talk to me. I don't like seeing her like this completely defeated, at least before there was enough fire in her to attack me. With firm resolve, Puck tucks his index finger under Mercedes' chin forcing her to look him in his eyes.
"Look I know today has been pretty shoddy, but you can't not talk. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't want to talk either, and I'm not sayin' you gotta spill your guts to me or nothing, just acknowledge that you're being talked to. You can't just ignore people; especially me." A wry smile quirks onto Puck's face. "I don't think it's a good look. And you don't have to say much, a simple okay would suffice."
For the first time in a long time, a smile forms on Mercedes' face, albeit a very battered version of the original, but a smile nonetheless. "Okay."
"See that wasn't too hard." Puck beams as he soaks in the reward of progression. They settle into companionable silence, which only lasts for ten minutes before the entrance of English Girl's mom coinciding with the disturbingly loud sound of his phone. The sudden intrusion jolts both teenagers causing Puck to release Mercedes' hand jumping out of the bed as if he had just been caught doing naughty things with Mrs. Jones' daughter. Upon noticing the instant acrimonious expression embedded on Mercedes' face, he mouths 'sorry,' which seems to work.
"Mrs. Jones, uh, I, uh, you're back?"
"Yes I am. And you're still here? Don't you need to get some sleep or take a shower?"
"You sound like my mom. I don't think so, but Mom seems to, so, I'll be leaving soon. She just texted me. She's outside, but I want to say bye first."
"Okay, sweetie, do you want me to leave?"
"Naw, you don't have to."
Puck looks at Mercedes who is staring at him in the oddest way. He walks over to the bed to get closer to her, and once he reaches the bed he hears the door close behind him. She must have wanted to give us privacy. Why would she think we needed privacy? Unconsciously Puck finds his hand wrapped around the impossibly soft hand of whom he thinks may become his first real friend. She doesn't flinch this time and that very fact reassures him that he is in the right place, doing the right thing.
"So, I gotta go 'cause my mom is missing me and says I gotta come home. Something about eating or something." There's that smile again. "I'll be back tomorrow after school though." My phone vibrates. Dang Mom, I'm coming; give me a minute. "Well my mom won't let up, so, um, see you later."
Mercedes doesn't say anything to me, so, I roll my eyes and give her hand a squeeze and head towards the door. I guess she noted my frustration because before I make it to the door…
"Bye, Noah, see you tomorrow."
