Chapter Nine: Visiting Hours
Blossom
Boomer had called to tell me that Brick had wanted to see me. That was about a month ago. I've called every single day, and each day, the nurse said that, unless I was family, he was in too critical condition for visitors.
Could he possibly be that injured?
Well, yes, I reasoned. Getting in a bad car crash and then, still broken, falling off the roof of a house would probably have ended the life of a regular human being. I was lucky to have Brick still alive.
I paced back and forth in my room. I was going stir-crazy... You needed him, remember? I thought, looking out the window. I saw Townsville Hospital from there.
I opened the door to the roof, and this time I knew there would be no surprise guests up there. Climbing up, I flew towards the city. You're being irrational and silly, I thought to myself as I flew past buildings.
Do you think Brick was being rational when he came to you with one million broken bones and sat on at the top of your house? Eh. I guess not.
It's the least you can do for him.
I nodded and took off faster.
When I finally got on to Brick's level, I nearly ran into Butch, who was storming across the place in a blazing fury. "Hey, are you okay?" I asked, stepping back to clear the way.
"I'm fine!" he roared, slamming his fist against the wall. It sent tremors down the entire building. Whatever was bothering him, I really didn't want to know.
He got into the elevator, smacked the button, and growled as the doors closed. Obviously that meant Brick was awake.
I headed towards the room that the person at the front desk had told me to. Boomer was sitting quietly in an armchair outside the room, slumped over on the table. He was snoring, and a line of drool was coming from his mouth. He looked absolutely exhausted.
Poor guy, I thought.
I crept into the room. Brick was laying on his bed, drawing something. There was still only a few bits and pieces of his body that weren't bandaged up. He would need weeks of therapy...
I surprised him, and when he looked up, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Then his expression warmed, and his eyes grew wide. "Blossom!" he shouted, practically jumping up to hug me. "Finally! Man, it was like you were never going to come see me. Sit, sit..." He was like an excited puppy.
I smiled, moving closer to him. "You feeling a little better?"
"Much. The food tastes like crap, but that's okay. Overall they treat me well," he said, putting down the note pad. "And it's even better now that you're here!"
I giggled at his energy. It was like it had been bottled up all this time.
"So what'd you do to Butch?" I asked jokingly. "Or, a better question, what did you do to Boomer to traumatize him so much that he didn't wake up to Butch?" I laughed.
Brick replied, "Butch and Boomer have literally been by my side 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. When they get tired, they get tired in different ways. Boomer basically goes comatose and passes out wherever he's standing, whereas Butch gets to an extreme version of the word 'cranky'.
"Basically I said that you were prettier than Buttercup. Maaaaan, I could have said that I thought his hair looked stupid and gotten a less dramatic reaction. He screams, 'No way!' at me, and then slams the door, running around like a maniac around the hospital. Boomer didn't even move."
I paused for a moment. "You... think I'm prettier than her?" I asked. My sisters, in my eyes, were really beautiful. Me not as much. I always saw boys asking them out on dates and checking them out.
He sighed and chuckled under his breath. "If you could only see how they act around you..." he muttered. He stopped his thought and continued. "To me, you're perfect," he said sweetly. He moved his hand and curled it under mine. As he held my hand in his, he remarked, "This sounds like it came straight from some sappy romance movie, doesn't it..."
I nodded, giggling even louder. I pointed out, "I love those really corny ones with the kissing and the 'I love you forever'-ing."
"Well..." he said. "I'm in no condition to kiss, but... I'll love you forever."
I looked into his eyes, trying to read his expression. Was he serious? I had learned a long time ago not always to believe what I was told...
He nodded, holding my hand tighter, leaning as closely to me as the bindings allowed him to. "I mean it. I just can't think of a better way to say it than making it a joke..." he said remorsefully, as if he regretted saying it so abruptly.
I was so shocked that he had just said that that I nearly fainted.
