I'd take the subway with Gina once a month to the outlet stores and we'd collect all the bargains to create next season's wardrobe. Then we'd stop and get a cappucino each - or a frap - and I'd watch as Gina got chatted up by the odd freshman from the community college. But I didn't mind. Gina was the popular one. It was a way of life.
Once we got home I'd IM Jake, or pretend to do Trig for Dad, or cook pancakes with Mom - hold the maple syrup - and we'd veg out in front of a sloppy romcom. It was cheesy we knew, but it was what we did. Our mother-daughter activity.
I was completely happy. Jake made me complete. He'd surprise me with candy or flowers each date we went on, and take me somewhere amazing - or we'd stay in his dorm and talk. He knew everything about me.
Until that day.
x
"So Susie," said my Mom. I could hear her bustling about with a fresh bouquet. "You and Jake were going through a bit of a rough stage?"
I could smell her hovering above me, like she was expecting an answer. Because people in comas participate in conversation regularly.
"Well," said my mother carefully, like she was choosing her words cautiously. "Every couple does. And I think all these secrets weren't doing any good."
She changed subject hastily, as if I was about to wake up and strangle her for suggesting Jake and I weren't perfect. She thinks she knows all about teenagers. But she doesn't. I mean, when she was a teenager, there were no Ipods. And she struggles with a TV remote.
"How about, when you wake up, we go on vacation, huh?" My mom fluffed my pillow gently. "I've always wanted to see where Martin Luther King lived. Why don't we goto Alabama? I can fulfil my history quota, and you can be Reese Witherspoon in Sweet Home Alabama... we'll have such a great time."
Uh-huh, I said inwardly. Sure. If only I could wake up.
We'd go on vacation annually back in New York. I liked Rhode Island the best. Since that vacation, back when I was ten, I had decided I wanted to go to Brown. Not that I had the grades, but it was my dream. To study what, I had no idea. I mean, give me a break. I was ten.
Jake made promises too. He said that once I woke up, he was going to marry me, even if he had to drag me down the aisle in handcuffs. He loved me, he said. More than anything. And he was more than willing to forget the whole Brad -and Paul - thing. Because he loved me. That was what he kept saying. Over and over again.
Brad had promised he would leave me alone completely when I woke up. He wouldn't even come to the wedding, he said. He would ignore me for the rest of our lives. Or, if I wanted, he said, we could be the best of friends. But never anything more. He'd hurt me, he said, more than that was visible on my skin. I guess he kinda meant my scars and bruises. The nurse had said they were beginning to clear up now, and there was hardly any swelling on my head. I think she was trying to get me optimistic. But I've given up now. I wish they'd just yank me off the life suuport. I was ready to leave.
x
"Oh my God."
My mother was stood at the top of the stairs, mouth open and pale. She was just dressed in her duck-egg blue dressing gown, and matching slippers, and her hair was still in rollers, and the bags underneath her eyes were as black as my own.
"Suze?" she croaked. She was still with shock.
"Suze!" she yelled again; but there was no answer. She kicked off her slippers and ran down the stairs to tend to the victim lying at the bottom. She felt for a pulse.
It was faint.
"Pete?" she whispered. "Pete, honey, wake up. What happened? Where's Suze?"
The man mumbled and tried to move his neck, but gave up in agony. "Meg," he croaked. "I'm so sorry. For everything."
My mother ignored his speech and instead gripped his hand. "You can give me a more detailed apology later."
The man closed his eyes. "I don't think I'm gonna last that long Meg."
"Of course you will, doofus," scolded my mother. She fumbled in her dressing gown pocket for her cell. Good old Mom. Always efficient, even when sleeping.
"Yes...an ambulance please?" She rambled off the address. "Stair injury. Thankyou."
She snapped her phone shut and kissed his head. "Oh Pete," she said. "Where's our girl gone?"
"I don't know," he muttered.
"We'll worry about Suze later," was my mother reply. "She's probably just run away to bawl into Jake."
The air suddenly went foggy, and the stairs reshaped as desks and bedpans. It was the hospital.
"Well?" she asked the doctor frantically as he came striding out of the emergency ward. "How's my husband. Oh please God, tell me he's OK."
The doctor smiled grimly.
"He's going to be fine Mrs Simon," he said comfortingly. "He's just broken his collarbone, and is a recipient of concussion. You're lucky. You could have lost him."
My mom collapsed into the doctor's arms. Or I think normal people just call it a hug.
"Oh Doctor," she said. "Thank the Lord."
"Will do, Ma'am." And he continued about his way.
He's alive.
I gave a huge gasp, and felt my whole chest rise. The cool draft of the door licked my chin, and I rubbed it warm again.
I rubbed it warm again.
I was awake.
"Hey Suze," said the figure by the door. "Its about time."
It was Paul. And he looked more murderous than ever.