Hey guys! I'm totally uninformed about cars, so if the first part makes no sense that's why.
"On this Mustang, the four-barrel quads are exceptionally large. They…" I yawned massively. "They make this model faster than any others before its time."
It was the next evening, and Johnny remained unconscious after his blood transfusion.
"It has twice the horsepower of the new Sienna…" I yawned again, forcing my eyes to stay open.
"…and is more attractively built," I heard a voice close to me say. Soda had slipped into the room, and had stolen the magazine from my hands, pulling up another chair next to the bed.
I gave him a look, and he just responded with, "You weren't reading that with any conviction. Pretty obvious you don't know what any of it means. Plus you're yawning like a frog trying to catch a fly."
He continued to read, while I sponged Johnny's face tenderly with a wet towel. He was now occasionally saying my name in his sleep.
Soda tried to get me to leave- get some food, go home for a while, etc., but I refused. Even Mom had gone home to sleep in her own bed for a night.
"What if he wakes up, and I'm not here?" I said obstinately. "I'm not leaving."
Just when I thought I might doze off, Johnny's eyelids began to flicker, and he said "Livvy?"
"Oh, Johnny!" I cried, relief flooding my entire body. "I'm here, I'm right here, honey."
I got up so that I was standing over his bed.
Soda grinned at Johnny and promised to visit later, leaving the room just as Barbara entered. She, too, smiled to find Johnny awake.
"Look who's up," she said happily, coming closer to check on the machines connected to Johnny, gently smoothing his hair back and adjusting the pillows.
"You missed so much," she said, in a falsely gossipy tone. "First of all, a pop star wore a slutty outfit, then someone criticized the president's newest decision. Oh yeah, leather shorts are back in style! Good thing, too, because, I don't know about you, but they were just sitting there collecting dust in my closet."
"Barbara, you're the greatest nurse ever," Johnny said appreciatively, for once, not being reticent about his feelings with someone besides me, leaning back on his pillows.
"Ditto," I agreed.
"Well, you're okay too," Barbara said fondly. "You and your crazy girlfriend."
Johnny turned to me. "You look like shit."
"Look who's talking," I shot back. He was the one lying in a hospital bed. Yet the boy was worried about me. And Barbara said I was crazy.
"You haven't been sleeping, have you?" He asked this in the same tone of voice a mother would use to ask her careless son if he had cleaned his room.
"That girl must have gotten under an hour of sleep altogether in the past two days," Barbara said, totally betraying me. I narrowed my eyes at her in a futile attempt to look mad. She just widened hers in a so what? way and left.
"Get over here, already," Johnny said to me.
For once I didn't protest. I curled up with Johnny in the bed. I hadn't expected it to be so soft and comfortable. Johnny turned on the T.V., but before I could even figure out what was on, I had fallen asleep.