In the movies, hospitals are always creepy and make you feel scared.
Well . . . real life hospitals aren't any different.
I walked through the halls, trailing behind my mother, and felt really small. It was like all these important things were going on, and I didn't need to be there. We went down the now familiar path to Carlos's room.
As we walked into the room, I spotted a nurse sitting at his bedside, studying him as if he were some sort of animal. I ran to my brother's 'rescue'.
Carlos was a really beautiful person, and I'm not just saying that because he is my twin. He has wavy brown hair, like mine, that falls in front of his eyes from two weeks or longer with no hair cut. On previous visits, Carlos had seemed . . . well, almost dead. Today, he looked like a sleeping angel.
Something was definitely . . . right.
The nurse told us he had stopped moving a while ago, but it was possible he could again. It was also possible he could just be sleeping now, and he could wake up at any moment. After about an hour of waiting, my cell phone rang and the nurse glared at me.
I stepped aside to the corner of the room, and answered it. It was Troy of course.
"Gabriella is everything okay?" he asked, concern showing through his every word.
"Yeah, everything is fine right now, there is no change in him really," I explained sadly.
"I'm sorry Gabriella . . . do you want me to come?" he asked.
"No . . . it's really okay," I lied.
Of course I would want him here at a time like this. And he knew it.
"I'm coming," he declared, "I'll call you when I get there."
"Okay . . . bye."
I hung up the phone, and hoped that Troy got there soon. In the meantime, I counted the tiles on the ceiling, and made up various names for the color of paint on the wall. My favorite was 'dull hospital white'.
My mother was still sitting next to Carlos. She had her eyes closed, but I knew she wasn't sleeping . . . she was praying.
For a second, I thought of my father.
He was the real singer in the family, you could say. But . . . he did die in a car accident when Carlos and I were just four years old. I knew that I felt horrible, already losing my father in a vehicle accident . . . but to lose my brother too? I bet it was even harder for my mother to almost have to say goodbye to her only son, when it had probably felt that just a short time ago, she lost her husband.
My mother was a strong person. One hundred and fifty tiles on a dull hospital white ceiling later, Troy had arrived.
We sat in the hospital cafeteria, and at first didn't say anything at all. It was strangely a powerful moment for me. It proved to me that Troy could be there for me at my time of need. It showed how much he really did care, and that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
"I can't wait to meet him," Troy said suddenly.
I smiled, "You'll like him."
"If he's related to you, then yes," he laughed.
I love this boy.
In a world of coincidences, there are tender moments and hard ones. In a life of hardship, confusion, and love, I have perfect ones. Somehow, I know I'll get through everything in the end, even if there are bumps along the road. I came to this resolution as I sat on that uncomfortable seat in that hospital cafeteria. I didn't care about thinking in corny, fluffy sentences. I just felt so secure in that moment.
I glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight.
"Troy, don't you have to go home?" I asked.
"Well . . . I'll make a quick call to my mom, and I'll stay here all night if you want me to," he offered.
"No! You really don't have to," I lied.
He took out his phone and starting dialing. There was no changing his mind.
The next thing I remember is waking up in one of those hospital waiting rooms. Troy was next to me in another chair, messing with his cell phone.
"Morning Sleeping Beauty," he joked.
"Carlos! How is he?" I asked, flattening out my hair.
"No one has come in for awhile," he explained, "so I don't know."
"I have to go ask," I said, standing up and looking at the clock again.
"Troy! School! We are missing school!"
"It's okay . . . your mom wanted you to sleep so she called you in absent."
"But, what about you?"
"I asked my mom to call me in too," he said, "the school knows what is going on from yesterday. And . . . I'm guessing the whole school does too."
The look on my face must have been shocked.
"Gabriella, it's okay," Troy said, trying to calm me down, "As soon as Carlos is back, he'll go to your school and everyone will know."
"Yeah . . . I guess you are right," I admitted, feeling stupid for hiding her secret.
What was wrong with everyone knowing it? Then . . . I remembered something else.
"Troy . . . if we don't go to school, we can't be in the musical tonight!" I exclaimed.
"Gabriella, think about it, right now your brother is more important that that," Troy said, "I already talked to Mrs. Darbus on the phone, and she's going to talk to Sharpay and Ryan so they can fill in for us."
"But . . . why wouldn't you go and be in it with Sharpay?"
"Because . . . this Arnold only has one Minnie."
