Chase and I step into Dad's hospital room hesitantly. He lies in bed with his broken leg propped up with pillows under his knee. He lifts his head when he hears us enter the room. I run to him as he reaches out his hand. Chase awkwardly sits down on the chair not too far off to the side.
"Myka, how was yesterday and this morning? Okay without me?" Dad is frantic. "Did Chase take care of you alright with driving and stuff? Did you get enough to eat? Did you go to bed at a decent hour? Was there—"
The questions are coming at rapid fire, and I can tell he's beginning to panic, so I cut him off. "Dad, everything was fine. I was responsible. Chase drove. Everything was fine."
He breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I was so worried." He turns to Chase, "Thanks for taking care of her."
Chase looks me in the eyes. It's almost as though he's looking straight through me. He says, "It was really no problem." A chill runs down my spine. Silence falls over us. Dad squeezes my hand.
"So…when are you gonna be able to come home?" I ask him.
He smiles, "They said I would be able to come home tomorrow as long as I don't react badly to any of the drugs they have me on."
I'm immediately concerned. "What all do they have you on?"
He laughs, "Calm down, it's just antibiotics to prevent infection, an anti-inflammatory to prevent swelling and such, and some pretty heavy-duty painkillers. It's nothing to be concerned about."
"Isn't it dangerous to combine all those different medicines?"
"Actually," a new voice comes from the doorway, "in most cases it would be a little risky, as some drugs don't play well with others, but these specific drugs that he's taking help each other out. I'm Dr. Wilson."
"Um, hi," I greet him awkwardly as he steps into the room and looks at Dad's chart.
"Everything looks good to me. You can go today if you want." The doctor smiles, "I'll bring your discharge papers back in a minute."
As Dr. Wilson walks out of the room, a big goofy smile crosses Dad's face. A few minutes later, a nurse steps into the room. With a few pleasantries, she removes Dad's IV drip and tapes a piece of gauze over the needle track. She struggles to help him out of bed and into a wheelchair, so Chase helps her, then goes to bring the car around. Dr. Wilson returns with Dad's prescriptions and discharge papers. Dad is already going on about what we're going to do when we get home as the nurse pushes his wheelchair to the hospital doors. Chase jumps out of the driver's seat and comes around to help Dad into the backseat. I slide the crutches along the floor in front of the seat. Moments later, we're on our way home.
On the highway, when Dad finally runs out of things to say, I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, staring out the window. Now that Dad is in the car with us, Chase and I don't really have anything to say to each other. Granted, it could also be that we're not exactly on good terms from what happened earlier when Ryan called. Then again, I'm always in a bad mood after a call from Ryan.
From the time we started dating, he was more like a drug than a boyfriend. We would spend hours together, completely carefree. I would be high off his company, his kiss, his presence for hours, sometimes days, but I always had to come down from it. Inevitably, the comedown was—is—always bad. I always convinced myself that it was okay because we were in love, but now I'm not so sure.
It really doesn't help that there's suddenly this gorgeous new boy who's questioning my relationship. If his questions and theories were completely out of left field, I wouldn't be that concerned about it, but seeing as they're all things I've thought or wondered myself, I'm starting to think that maybe Ryan isn't so good for me after all.
Hey, friends, I'm still kind of new to the wonderful world of FanFiction.
I would really appreciate reviews. Advice or pointers or pretty much anything.
I'd just like to know that there are people out there reading this.
Thanks. I love you all.