"Oww," he grumbles, rubbing the side of his jaw as he swallows the last bit of hamburger from his dinner.
"Jesse," she scolds, "You really need to get those wisdom teeth taken care of."
"I'm fine, they're fine," he insists, wincing as he bites into a French fry.
She shakes her head at him, "Promise me you'll make an appointment to get them looked at?"
"Ok," he tells her reluctantly and she smiles.
A few days later he walks into her dorm room late in the evening, throwing his backpack down on the floor. "See what you did?" he whines. "Now I have to go have surgery to get these stupid useless extra teeth out!"
"Oh, you poor baby," she mock pouts at him. "It's standard procedure. Almost everyone needs to have their wisdom teeth out. Don't they just do a local anesthetic?"
"No, mine are impacted. They need me to be fully unconscious," he corrects. "You know I've never had anesthesia before."
"I have once," she tells him. "It's no big deal. They either put a mask on you or give you an I.V. and then boom, you're out. The next thing you know, you're awake and it's done."
"What did you have it for?" he asks.
"When I was little, I fell and broke my ankle and they had to reset it. Much easier to put a kid out instead of trying to do it while I was awake. That thing hurt like hell."
"I bet," he replies.
She can tell he's nervous about the whole thing so she adds, "It's going to be just fine, you know. Besides, you're lucky to have made it to twenty-one without having any surgery yet."
"True," he replies, "But that doesn't make it any more fun. And I'm going to have to drink my food for a week!"
"I'll make you hamburger shakes, ok?" she jokes.
"Disgusting!" but at least he's smiling.
The next week she's taking him to the hospital for the surgery.
"Why do they insist on always doing surgery at the crack of dawn?" she grumbles as they sit down in the waiting room. "It's like adding insult to injury."
"By definition," he agrees. When they check him in they ask if he has someone waiting to drive him home afterwards. "Yes, my girlfriend Beca Mitchell," he tells the nurse. They lead him into a back room, have him change into a gown, and set him up in a hospital bed. A nurse comes in to set up his I.V. line, and then the anesthesiologist arrives and explains to him what will happen. He feels a grogginess settle over him, and then nothing.
Beca sits in the waiting room. The surgery is only supposed to take an hour, two at the most. She tries to focus on the book she brought to read, but finds that she keeps looking at her watch.
When almost two hours have passed, she gets up and walks over to the receptionist counter. Just as she's about to ask if they have any information on Jesse, a nurse walks into the waiting room.
"Beca Mitchell?" she calls.
"Yes?" Beca replies, walking over to her.
The nurse looks solemn as she says, "I'm sorry Miss Mitchell, but Jesse is having trouble coming out of anesthesia. Are you a relative of his?"
"I'm his girlfriend," she clarifies, "Is he going to be ok?"
"Does he have a history of having difficulty waking from anesthesia that you know of?" the nurse asks.
"He's never had anesthesia before," Beca answers. "Is he going to be ok?" she repeats.
The nurse frowns before saying, "I'll keep you updated, ok?" and turns to go back through the swinging doors.
Beca feels like she can't breathe. What does this woman mean, he's having trouble waking up? She starts pacing around the waiting room. This can't be happening.
Her thoughts are racing a mile a minute, and images of him keep flashing through her mind. Jesse, with his juice pouches and movie trivia. Jesse, performing with the Trebles, his eyes sparkling in excitement. Jesse, the feel of his skin and his lips against hers. Jesse, matching her wit for wit, heart to heart, step by step. Jesse, his gorgeous brown eyes, adorable dimples, and sexy toned body. And it feels like someone is squeezing her chest as hard as they can.
"Miss Mitchell?" she hears her name again and turns to see the same nurse. She runs over to her.
"He's still not awake but his vitals are stable. You can come and see him now," the nurse tells her.
"Why isn't he waking up?" Beca asks, frantic.
"Some people react differently to general anesthesia, and it takes them longer to wake than the average person. The next time he has surgery, he needs to tell the doctor that he is slow to wake up so that they can adjust the medications accordingly."
They turn the corner and enter a room with curtains that are separating individual beds. There are doctors and nurses bustling in every direction. The nurse walks over to a curtain and pulls it open to reveal Jesse, lying flat on his back with his eyes closed. There's some swelling in his jaw from the surgery, but other than that he looks peaceful.
"Jesse!" she runs over to him, grabbing hold of his hand. "Oh Jesse!" she repeats, lifting his hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to it. Gingerly, she perches on the edge of the bed and gazes at his sleeping form.
Beca doesn't have many regrets in life, but one is that she wasted an entire year pushing this man away. He should have given up on her, he almost did in fact. When she first met him she thought he was cute, though a little dorky. But he could make her laugh and smile, and no matter what she threw at him, he bounced it back. He was the only person she knew that could turn a horrible situation into something funny or positive. And best of all, he knew exactly who she was, and he loved her for it.
"You once told me that one person in a relationship always loves more than the other," she whispers to him, still holding his hand tightly, "But I don't think that's true for us."
She strokes his hair with her free hand, "I think we work because we love the same way. And you were the smart one, you knew this long before I did. We may seem different, and come from different families, but fundamentally we are the same. And I need you to wake up now, and tell me I'm an idiot, because I'm still just figuring out what you've known all along."
"You're an idiot," he mumbles groggily, his eyes blinking into focus.
"Hey weirdo," she smiles at him, giving his hand a squeeze. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired," he replies.
"You took a while to wake up," she explains, "I was so afraid for a while there."
"I heard what you said," he tells her, "I always knew you were a hopeless romantic," he teases.
"Shut up, I am not," she insists.
"Are too," he tries to smile, wincing a little, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."
They release him a few hours later, and she takes him back to the Treble house to rest. She doesn't leave his side the next few days, even skipping class claiming that she needs to take care of him.
"I'm fine, Bec," he says adamantly, "Seriously. I can almost eat regular foods. No more pain or swelling. You need to get to class."
She goes, reluctantly, but has trouble paying attention, even more so than usual. As soon as the class ends she's back in his room.
"I get it," she tells him as she enters without knocking.
"What?" he looks up at her in confusion.
"I get how you felt when you thought something happened to me before," she explains, "Because I don't think I can handle another moment like I had when I thought you might not wake up."
"Beca," his voice drops an octave, "I told you I shouldn't have had that surgery," his eyes twinkle in amusement.
"Jesse," she warns, "I'm being serious."
"I'm sorry," he whispers, pulling her by the hand towards him. She falls onto the bed next to him, tipping his bowl of popcorn in the process. "Now see what you did," he says softly.
"Shut up," she replies, climbing on top of him, the bowl hitting the ground with a resounding thunk. She lightly kisses his lips, unsure of whether he's still sore from the surgery. When he deepens the kiss for them, she kisses him harder. She rolls over, pulling him on top of her, needing to feel his weight on her. She breaks the kiss, holding his face with her hands, "Don't do that to me, ever again," she demands.
"I'll do my best," he answers, reaching to pull her shirt over her head. The rest of their clothing soon joins the popcorn bowl on the floor, and as they move together, Jesse pulls her close to him, whispering a single word in her ear, "Soulmates."
And when she feels the unmistakable tug of emotion in the pit of her stomach, she knows it's the truth.