I was soundly asleep when I felt the truck jolt to a stop. I slowly opened my eyes, to the blaring sunlight, and Amanda staring at me.

"Hey Olivia? We're home."

" Oh God." Is all I could muster out.

"Well I could've been all gangster and been like; Yo, yo, yo, we up in my hood." Amanda says as she's waving her arms around. "Or I could've been super annoying, and tapped you repeatedly, saying Olivia, until you woke up. Or better up I could've crept on you like this." Amanda puts her face super close to mine and screams. "WAKE UP!"

"Never do that again."

"Hey, sometimes you have to do, what you have to do. I'll go get the wheelchair from the back for you."

I see Amanda from the rearview mirror, heading to the back of the pickup truck, opening the back door, and pulling out my folded wheelchair. She pulls it open to its upright position and rolls it over to my side, putting the brakes on. Opening my door for me, she helps me slide into the wheelchair, and undoes the brakes.

Amanda apologizes as she pushes my wheelchair up a ramp in the sidewalk, and then down the sidewalk. "My apartment is on the other side of this block; this is as close as I could get us."

"It's fine, thanks Amanda. I really appreciate this."

"My apartment building has an elevator, since it has six stories, so it'll be easy to get you in and out of the building."

Amanda pushes me a little further, makes a left, and then makes another left a few more minutes later.

"Well, this is it. My building. We have to go through the basement to get to the elevator though."

Amanda turns my wheelchair around, and slowly inches me down a steep ramp, into what apparently was a basement. I guess it was mostly used for garbage storage, because it smelt horrible, like rotten eggs.

She backed me out of the basement, and into a dimly lit hallway, we turned into the hallway right smack where the elevator was. When the doors opened, she backed me into the elevator and pressed the 4. The elevator went up to the fourth floor, and I was wheeled once again out into another dimly lit hallway. We made a left, until we reached 4E.

Amanda, unlocked her door, and then pushed me in. In the three years I've known her, I have never been to her apartment; actually I had no idea where she even lived to be honest. The apartment was bare, to say the least. It looked more like it was kept for a model apartment, and less like it was someone's home. The kitchen was a cramped kitchenette, with the essentials but nothing unnecessary; definitely not enough room for more than one person at a time in there.

On the other side of the kitchenette were two stools, which I assumed was the kitchen/ dining room table. The living room was right when you walked in, it had a door on the left side of it, which I assumed, led to the bathroom, or a bedroom, then there was a door which led to something else, probably the master bedroom. The living room itself was plain and basic; a black leather couch with a throw on it, a coffee table in front, and a small TV in front of that which was sitting on a small rectangular bookcase. Miley her dog, was laying on the couch. The bookshelf had a few books on it and a handful of DVD's as well.

"Uh yea." Amanda said slowly. "It's a little bare, I know. I don't spend a lot of time here. Mostly for sleep, maybe a quick bite, here and there. I play with Miley outside in the parks. I rather be outside. Let me show you the bedroom."

With Miley following us, Amanda pushed my wheelchair again to the door on the right. Inside was a king sized bed.

"My only real indulgence, since moving to NY." Amanda explained. I just nodded.

The comforter was a white fluffy cotton set, probably made with Down Feathers. Across from the bed, was a tall mahogany dresser, and a smaller closet was on the right side of the bed.

Amanda walks over to the bed, and sits down across from and says. "There's a small bathroom to the left of the closet, but we probably can't get your wheelchair in there. But there's a full bathroom on the other side of the living room, which will be easier for you to get in and out of. You can sleep in the bed while you're here. I'll sleep on the couch.

I interrupted. "Amanda no. It's your house. I'll sleep on the couch."

" The couch is fine for me. I've slept in lot worse places than on a leather couch. It'll be easier for you with a broken leg and arm."

"It is a king bed." I added. "Maybe we can share the bed."

"Seriously? Are you going to be okay with that?"

"Yea, then we can both be comfortable."

"Alright, if your sure. I have to find you clothes or something to wear while you're here. You can't wear those scrubs, every day, while you're here. Would a nightgown and sweatshirt be okay? It'll be easier for you to get on and off."

"Yea, thanks."

Amanda walks over to the dresser and starts rummaging through the drawers. "Here this might be good."

It's a blue and white striped nightgown and a gray sweatshirt that says Paris, with an image of the Eiffel Tower under it.

"Here, I'll help you get into it. Amanda says.

She helps me to my feet, to take off the pants, and then helps me sit back down. She leaves the room so I can take off the other clothes, and put the pajamas on myself.

I think to myself sooner or later I'm going to have to get around by myself, and I attempt to wheel myself out of the bedroom. It's pretty much a failed attempt. My right arm is useless, I can't grab the wheel with my cast and just turning the left wheel, just wheels me in circles. Miley barks. This sucks.

As I am figuring out how to wheel myself out of here, I hear Amanda behind me.

"Do you want some help?"

" I guess. I might as well get used to being helped."

A little while later, while watching TV, Amanda asked me if I was ok with take out. "I don't cook at all." "Yea that's fine." I agreed. "Once I can get around easier, I'll cook for us."

An hour later, after stuffing ourselves with a wide assortment of Chinese food, and awkward conversation, we decided to go to bed since Amanda had work early tomorrow.

After getting ready for bed, and climbing into bed, I reminded Amanda not to tell anyone.

"I mean it Amanda, not a word. Say I went on vacation, anything. I have paid leave for over two months time. Don't do it."

Amanda looks over at me, hesitating.

"Amanda, I swear if you…"

"Alright, alright, I won't."

But I can tell that she is unsure of this. But I have to trust her right now. I have no choice.

Thanks for reading, and reviewing.