Mason scoffs a laugh, aware of what she’s doing, but he’s exhausted, and he knows I’m in good hands. The risks are gone, so if there’s a perfect time for him to go, it’s now.
“Yeah, all right. I’ve got something to do anyway.”
“Yeah, like sleep.”
His smirk is small as he presses his lips to my hair. “Be back soon, okay? Have Cam call me if you need me. I’ll come right back.”
“I know and I will.”
He grabs some things off the chair, and with one last look back, he walks out.
My shoulders fall instantly, and when I turn to Cameron, her eyes begin to water.
“Come on, girlfriend,” she whispers as she stands. “Let’s get you all fresh.”
It takes several minutes for me to get up on my feet, but it’s faster than it was the day before when the nurse asked me to walk across the room and back.
Everything still aches, but I’ve got some of my movements down to know which ways sting a little less.
Cameron pulls my IV bag as close as she, allowing for the most stretch possible, and I slip under the spray, Cameron not a foot from me the entire time.
Once I’ve washed my body the best I can manage, I gently apply shampoo in my hair, careful not to touch the scrapes now scabbing over on the left side of my head, in fear of it stinging.
Cameron pokes her head in to help squeeze some conditioner into my palms, and the minute I lather it into the ends of my hair, my eyes decide to close, a strange flicker of something bringing a frown to my face.
I lean against the wall, lift the tips of my hair to my nose and inhale again.
The soap, it has an almost piney, eucalyptus scent, but fresh and clean and… familiar.
An unexpected warmth washes over me, but it brings tears of confusion with it, and suddenly, I’m gasping for air I didn’t know I was denying myself.
“You okay?” Cameron asks from the other side of the curtain.
“Mm-hm.” My closed-mouthed response gives me away.
Cam pokes her head in, a shadow falling over her eyes as they meet mine. “Ari…”
“Can you, um, help rinse with conditioner really fast?” I ask, letting her know I don’t want to talk about it, without saying it. “I can’t stand here any longer.”
She pushes the curtain back with a nod, unfazed by the water splashing all over her sweat suit, and gently spins me, grabbing my hair in her hands. “Let’s just wash this out. I brought leave-in for you days ago, just in case, so we can work some of that in once you’re sitting.”
I nod again, and she gets to work. As she’s turning off the water and passing me a towel, I whisper her name.
“Cam?”
“Honey bunny.”
“Thank you.” I don’t mean to cry. “For this. For being here. For all things I can’t remember, but I’m sure you were there for the last few months.”
“I’ll always be here, Ari, you know that.” Cameron sniffles as she ties my gown back into place, gently moving my hair to one side. She slips in front of me, tears wobbling in her eyes. “No matter what.”
I nod again, stepping into my best friend, who hugs me to her.
No matter what, she said.
That’s the scary part about all of this, isn’t it? The reality behind it all.
That this could be the beginning.
How things could get worse.
If that’s the case, where the hell does that leave me?
Stuck in the past… or lost in the future?
Noah
* * *
The crisp California air wakes me, and with the cold comes a hangover I didn’t think through. I can’t even roll myself over without wincing, but I manage to make it to my feet and stumble to the cab of my truck. It takes all my might to climb inside, but the sloshing around has my stomach turning as beads of sweat form along my hairline. Spinning, I quickly lean my upper body out the door, just in time to keep from throwing up in my lap.
It feels like forever before my stomach is empty of the poison I fed it, and even then, a dozen dry heaves follow. Huffing, I strip my shirt from my body, using it to wipe the sweat from my face and head. I rinse my mouth out with half the water bottle I left on the seat, using the other half to force down some ibuprofen—something I learned to keep on hand after my first week of practice my freshman year at Avix.
Dropping my head against the headrest, my eyes close again, a pain I’ve never known burning its way along my bones, and it’s got nothing to do with the drumming of my temples.
A month ago, my life felt full for the very first time, imploding with a peacefulness I never knew existed. Twelve days ago, that peace was shattered, completely crushed as my girl was taken by ambulance to fight for her life, and unknowing at the time, our child’s. And last night, last night, my heart was obliterated, pulverized as I looked into the eyes of the most amazing person I have ever known, eyes that looked at me as if I was the prize, as if I was the most amazing thing in her world, only to find them rid of us.