Chapter Twenty-Six: Who Are You?

Zoey's P.O.V.

Ow.

I opened my eyes. Where am I? I looked around the room. Am I in a hospital? Why do I hurt so much?

The door opened. "Kenneth, if you're tired, you can go into the rest area just across the hall."

Who was this man? I was too tired to move my head, so I looked to the side with my eyes to see my dad look up from his hands.

"Eric, you're still here? I thought Mike left a couple hours ago."

"Yeah, he did," replied Eric. I looked at him now, catching his eye. "I just came to check on how you're doing. How are you doing?"

I didn't reply; even though I could. I only looked at him.

"Zoey!" I jumped. I looked back at my dad and said, "What?"

"You're awake!" He looked so happy.

"Yeah," I said. "Why am I in a hospital?"

He crinkled his eyebrows. "You were in a motorcycle accident… With that foolish boy."

Foolish boy?

Mike's P.O.V.

I left the burned building to walk home. I couldn't take disaster very much longer. Passing by a convenience store, my phone started ringing.

"Hello?" I asked into it.

"Mike, guess what!" It was my adopted mom, practically yelling into the speaker.

"What?"

"Zoey's awake. But there's a problem…"

My heart started thumping out of relief and worry. "What's the problem, Mom?"

"Just come back to the hospital and see for yourself."

I hung up the phone and put it back in my pocket. I didn't need to be told again; I ran.

Zoey's P.O.V.

My dad left the room to go to this rest area that man was talking about. Feeling uncomfortable laying in the position that I was, I, slowly, sat up in the bed. I hardly needed to move before my back started stinging very, very painfully. It took me almost twenty seconds just to sit up. Once I had, I reached my right arm behind me and felt my back.

"Ah!" I hissed in pain. It was scraped, scratched, and felt like it was on fire.

'What happened to me?' I wondered to myself.

The door opened again, another man coming in. I could tell this one must have been my doctor. I mean obviously; he was wearing scrubs, a pen in his chest pocket, and was holding a clipboard.

"Hello, there, Zoey." He smiled at me.

"Hi," I replied.

"My name is Dr. Conners. How are you feeling?"

"Well, I hurt," I joked.

Dr. Conners chuckled. "I bet you do. Everybody is worried about you, you know. Even your boyfriend." My boyfriend? He continued. "Thankfully, you, like him, were not too badly injured. Not bad enough for major surgery, anyway." Another chuckle. "I wouldn't recommend any more motorbike accidents anytime soon, though." Another smile.

I grinned, knowing he was trying to make me feel a little better. "Can I get out of bed?" I asked him.

Dr. Conners shook his head, saying, "No, not by yourself. Your right leg has a few cracks in it and if you stand on it, you will probably fully break it."

"So that's why it stings so much," I stated. I didn't even try to move it.

I heard noises outside in the hallway and I looked over at the door. I jumped as a good looking boy (and I mean REALLY good looking) quickly came into the room. I cringed at my sudden movement.

The boy seemed out of breath, and looking closer, I saw a few tears in his eyes. He walked over to me, knelt by my bed, and grabbed my left hand.

"Ah!" I cried out, pulling my hand back. I turned it over to look at my palm, which was scraped so badly, it looked like I threw it in a paper shredder. Metaphorically, of course.

"Oh, Zoey, I'm so sorry!" he said. I looked back at him. He continued, "I'm so glad you're alright."

I crinkled my eyebrows together.

"Zoey?" he asked.

"Who are you?" I asked him.