Chapter Two

Mark opened his eyes...and found himself in a hospital room. He frowned, looking around. He was laying on a bed, in pajamas that were not his. When he sat up, a terrible pain went surging through his back.

"Ah!"he let out a moan. That's when he realized his arm was in a sling. He could also feel a bandage stuck to his forehead. He reached over with his good hand and grabbed his glasses, which were sitting on a side table, improving his blurry vision. He looked around...it was sunny outside, though everything was wet.

That's when he remembered the night before. The rain, the bike, the car... he had been hit. And apparently he was hurt. He pulled the blankets off of himself with the hand that wasn't in a sling, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Well, no broken legs. That was a good sign...

"Hey there."He nearly fell out of the bed at the sound of a girl's voice.

"Oh! Um...hi,"he greeted. There was a nice, smiling nurse in the doorway. She had light blonde hair that was tied back into a messy sort of bun, bluish-green eyes and a big smile.

"How are you feeling?"she asked Mark. He noticed she had a slight British accent.

"Um, pretty good, you know, considering I was hit by a car,"he replied.

"Good, you know what happened. I'm no good with amnesia patients,"the nurse joked, walking into the room. Mark grinned.

"I don't think I bumped my head too bad. There was this lady helping me out..."Mark recalled.

"That lady was me,"the nurse replied, grinning.

"Oh! Well, er...thanks then...uh..."Mark stopped, realizing that he had no idea what her name was.

"Emily,"the nurse replied. "Emily Weston."

"I'm Mark Cohen,"Mark replied.

"Well Mark Cohen, you're lucky I was walking home late last night,"Emily replied.

"I sure am,"Mark agreed. "I doubt anyone else would have even stopped their car when they saw a guy lying in the street."

"Around here, probably not,"Emily replied. She was holding a clipboard and looking at some notes. "Okay...you've fractured your right wrist, in case you haven't noticed. You've also got two stitches in your forehead, and a bruised tailbone. Nothing too serious, but you should probably take it easy for a little while. And as far as I know, you'll be out of here in an hour."

"Great! Thanks Emily,"Mark said kindly. "So...are you a nurse?"

"Well, a nurse in training. I'm still finishing med school, and I'm working here as an intern,"Emily replied, flipping through some more papers on her clipboard. "Oh, by the way, your bike was, er...kind of crushed."Mark sighed...then a horrible idea suddenly struck him.

"My bag! What about my bag?"he demanded.

"All your belongings were retrieved. We didn't open your bag, that's against the law, but it's sitting over there with your clothes,"Emily assured him. Mark ran over to his backpack, opening it quickly and pulling out his camera. The lense had popped out...but other than that, no real damage. He let out a deep breath.

"Phew...that was a scare,"he sighed. Emily laughed a little.

"Are you a filmmaker?"she guessed.

"Uh yeah,"Mark replied, a little embarrassed at his sudden outburst, as he carefully put his camera back.

"What do you film? Movies?"Emily asked, scribbling some notes on a piece of paper.

"Well, I've been working on a documentary,"Mark explained.

"Really? On what?"Emily continued.

"Life in the East Village...the homeless...my friends,"Mark replied. Now that he thought about it, there wasn't really an actual topic to his documentary.

"Sounds pretty cool,"Emily said, nodding. "Oh, you're clothes are over there on that bed. Sorry we had to take them off. We couldn't bandage you while you were wet."

"Oh, right. It's fine,"Mark assured her.

"I'll come back and let you know when you're good to go,"Emily said. That's when Mark noticed her rubbing her stomach, which was slightly swollen, as she walked towards the door...

"Hey Emily!"Mark called. She turned. "Is it a boy or a girl?"Emily paused for a moment.

"What makes you think I'm pregnant?"she asked. Mark suddenly had a horrible sensation that he had just mistakenly assumed she was pregnant...

"Oh, I er...I don't...I just...you looked..."Then Emily laughed.

"I'm just messing with you,"she assured him. "I don't know what the baby is. I want it to be a surprise,"she replied, and Mark let out a sigh of relief.

"Nice sense of humor..."he muttered.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything,"Emily assured him.

"You didn't!"Mark cried out quickly. Then he blushed, shrinking back onto the bed.

"You're funny, Mark Cohen,"Emily commented. "If you have any spare time from your documenting, maybe we could meet for coffee sometime?"she suggested. Mark paused for a second, registering the idea that he had just been asked out...and by a pregnant lady.

"Uh...sure! Yeah, here..."Mark pulled a soggy paper from his jacket pocket and grabbed a pen that was sitting on the bedside table, scribbling down he and Roger's phone number. He wasn't going to turn down the chance to be friends with a nice, friendly nurse. Even if there obviously was no chance of them ever being anything more than friends. "Here's my number. Call any time."Emily took the wet piece of paper, laughing a little.

"Thanks. I'll talk to you later!"she assured him, waving as she walked off. Mark waved back, grinning. Then he sighed. It was time for him to go back to his friends...