As I slowly drifted away from Artie's face, I pressed my own set of lips together as I looked down at the floor, trying to avoid the awkwardness. But yet out of the top of my eyes I could see his shy and dorky closed mouthed smile that was a familiar sight to my young eyes. What he said about second and third chances really stuck in my head, because I knew he was right. Not only was he right about the car accident that paralyzed him, or about the fire that put him into the hospital once again, but also about us. I already screwed up once, what's going to stop me from doing so again. By each passing second, I began to wonder if kissing Artie once, if not twice, was a good idea. I should have been happy; this was what I wanted.
"Tina?" He asked with concern. I picked up my head to see him reaching out for me knee with his bandaged arm.
"I'm not so sure about this, Artie." I said avoiding direct eye contact with him.
"What?" He asked shifting his hand slightly back towards his body as his sweet smile turned upside-down. The disarranged 'what' couldn't have hit my heart any harder. I then realized how bad what I said sounded. Not only was I giving him mixed signals, but I was confusing myself as well.
"I'm just afraid of losing you." I said shaking my head, trying to clarify.
"Then you must have been terrified for the past few days." He said.
"Don't talk like that." I said lightly hitting him with the back of my hand in the ribs.
"You can't hit me…I'm in the hospital." He said sloppily crossing his arms.
"And I belong in a wheelchair. That's a double offense."
"Artie, I'm serious." I said with a straight face, trying to ease the conversation back to where it belonged. He shut his mouth and sat back against the propped up half of the bed. After looking straight into my eyes and taking a deep breath, he scooted himself to the left.
"Come here, you." He said patting the warm looking spot next to his body. I brought my legs up onto the bed after slipping off my shoes. With his right arm open at a ninety-degree angle, I slipped into the sport between his bandages and torso. Out of instinct, I placed my head and hand on his hospital gown covered chest. Thinking I went to far, I glanced up to his face to see a smile. Soon I felt his arm go over my waist and it pulled me ever so closer to him. I still was wary, but the butterflies in the stomach and my increasing heart rate told me otherwise.
"You know…they say I get to go home in a couple weeks." He said tilting his chin down to face me.
"Really?" I asked with a hopeful smile.
"Yeah." He laughed, closing his eyes.
"Listen, Tina, do you think that maybe when things are back to normal…would you maybe, I don't know, go on another date – with me?"
Confidence was a beautiful color on him. The doubt in the back of my mind had vanished into thin air. After all, this was what I wanted. "I'd love that, Artie." I smiled.
"Really? I mean…great!" He said with a dorky tone of voice.
"I can't wait." I said tilting my chin up towards his face as I continued to hold my blissful smile.
"Then you're lucky that this hospital stay is so short." He said.
"What do you mean?" I asked picking my head up.
"After my mother and I got into that life changing car accident, I spent over eight months in the hospital." Artie said reminiscing on the past.
"That's horrible, Artie." I said sinking the side of my face back into his chest.
Just as I got comfortable once again, the door to Artie's room began to open. I twisted my neck to the right and looked out of the corners of my eyes to see who was visiting. Carla, Artie's nurse regular nurse, entered the room with a covered white bowl in her hands. Being a bit embarrassed at the placement of my head and hand, I began to sit up.
"How are you feeling, sweetie?" She asked placing the bowl on the table next to the bed.
"Not too shabby." He said quickly glancing at me. I shyly swooped a section of black and blue hair behind my ear.
"I brought you some organic potato soup that's real easy on the stomach, if you feel like trying to eat again." Carla said. "Made it myself last night."
"That sounds great, thank you." Artie said.
"Oh…I'm getting paged from downstairs." She said looking at the plastic and metal clip attached at her waistband. "I'll check up on you later." She said making her way out the door almost as fast as she entered it.
"Hungry?" I asked reaching over for the homemade soup.
"Please." He said placing his hands in his lap.
I took the plastic wrap off of the bowl and steam exploded into the air. A package of plastic silverware sat next to the bowl and I unwrapped a spoon before slipping it into the creamy looking white soup.
"Don't burn yourself now." I said, realizing the irony of my statement as I looked up at the ceiling with a raised eyebrow.
"Okay, mother." He said placing the warm bowl in his lap. I always forgot that he couldn't feel the lower half of his body. It wasn't denial; the fact just wasn't as obvious as his paralysis.
I sat back against the bed, shoulder to shoulder with Artie as he slowly sipped the simple, but good smelling soup. I was completely convinced at that point that Catherine had raised him to be the dorkiest person possible, for he had a paper napkin tucked into the collar of his hospital gown. Not only that, but we were also watching a marathon of Doctor Who.
"Tina, would you mind taking this?" He asked handing me the half empty bowl of soup.
"You feeling alright?" I asked remaining to keep my focus on Artie as I blindly placed the bowl on the table. I couldn't pinpoint it, but something definitely didn't seem right.
"Not really." He said sitting back and looking up at me with cheerless eyes.
My face flinched with sympathy before I turned onto my left side. Artie's good arm crossed over his stomach and I walked my own hand to meet his. The metallic shade of purple painted on my nails contrasted against his normally pale skin tone. I didn't exactly know where we stood, but things were looking good. And to think it only took a house fire that almost cost Artie his life.
"T-Tina?" He said barely being able to speak my name as she held my hand tighter.
"Artie what is it? What's wrong?" I panicked.
"G-garbage can…by, by the door." He said in the same helpless tone.
I shot up, and took a step towards the metal garbage can with an unused plastic bag inside. Just in time, I got it to him. My heart began to sink seeing him suffer. Not knowing what else to do, I just stood there over looking the bed. He wasn't kidding when he wrote that he couldn't keep anything down for long. Once finished, he looked up at me, and caught his breath.
I took the garbage can from his hands and placed it between his legs before kneeling onto the bed. With placing my right arm over his shoulder and left arm under his torso, I interlocked my fingered behind his back. Before pulling him in close, I leaned forward slightly so he wouldn't have to.
"What's wrong with me?" He softly asked pressing the side of his face against my side.
I honestly couldn't give him an answer, and I began to wonder what was going on myself. All of this couldn't have come from a bad reaction, right? I was no biology major, but things just weren't adding up.
A/N: A little fluff, a little suspense, a little drama? I didn't like this at first, but it's slowly growing on me. But the question remains: What's going on with Artie now? Alright, alright...I'm done teasing. :)