Broken Hill Hearts (Broken Hill High 4)

He leans forward and presses his lips to mine. “Then that’s what you’ll get.”

Three hours later, I sit up in a hospital bed with my arm in a cast, my parents on one side of the room, Nate on the other, and Jesse in the bathroom.

I look up at my parents. “How is it possible for this to be my third hospital visit in the space of six months?”

“I have an idea,” dad grunts with his eyes flicking across to Nate.

“Dad,” I snap. “Nate had nothing to do with it. I got bowled over by a football player. How many times do I have to explain it? Besides, the other time was appendicitis. I hardly doubt Nate had anything to do with my appendix bursting.”

“And the other time?” dad questions. “The fire.”

“Are you forgetting someone lit that fire and Nate was also caught in it? Again, not his fault, now back off. I don’t like you two at each other’s throats. You make it awkward for mom and me.”

Dad rolls his eyes and gets back to minding his own business. I look back at Nate and he winks, making a huge smile spread over my face. I guess this is just how it’s going to be from now on, though, I suppose there won’t be many reasons for them to be in the same room very often. At least that’s a bonus.

The bathroom door opens and Jesse steps out laughing before quickly closing it behind him. “Whoa, you guys do not want to go in there.”

“Ugh,” I groan, scrunching my face up. “That’s gross. Did you seriously have to do that here?”

“Where else was I supposed to do it?” he questions, dropping down beside Nate, perfectly showcasing the divide between my two families. “When you got to go, you got to go.”

Mom scoffs in disgust. “I’m so happy I had a girl,” she says. “I don’t know how Trish does it.”

“I know,” I grumble under my breath. “That woman deserves a medal.”

Dad gets up from his chair and walks forward. “I’m going to see what the hold up is,” he announces to the room. “You should have been discharged already.”

“Oh,” mom calls after him. “Could you grab me a coffee while you’re out?”

Dad scoffs as he walks out the door and even though he didn’t physically say ‘no’, it was clear as day. “I guess I’ll get my own coffee,” she says, though we all knew it was a long shot. Dad doesn’t like being dragged away from his work and he especially hates being dragged away for longer than necessary. Though, I really don’t get why he came. Mom had it handled.

Mom hops up and waltzes out the door after dad. Nate gets up and comes to sit by my side in my hospital bed. “Tell your parents you’re staying at Brooke’s tonight. I want you with me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I scoff. “There’s no way they’re going to let me out after breaking my arm. Mom will be checking in on me every ten minutes just to make sure my arm hasn’t fallen off.”

“Babe,” he groans. “Please.”

“As much as I want to, it’s not going to happen.”

He lets out a heavy breath, clearly disappointed, but he knew it was a long shot. “Fine, at least let me drive you home.”

“Ok,” Jesse scoffs. “And what am I supposed to do? Walk?”

Nate rolls his eyes as he waits for my response. “Ok,” I murmur. “But dad isn’t going to like it.”

A beaming smile crosses Nate’s lips. “I don’t care.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Half an hour later, I sit in the passenger side of Jesse’s Range Rover as Nate drives me home. Jesse sits in the back, absolutely hating being in the back of his own car, but Nate hates having other people drive him around. It’s either a weird OCD thing or it’s an ‘I need to always be in charge and appear as the boss man’ kind of thing.

We’re just about back at my place when a weather warning shoots through the radio. I listen as the news reporter warns local residents about a huge storm that’s quickly coming our way, so big that it could possibly be categorized as a hurricane. My mouth drops open in shock. I mean, we live near the beach. We get tropical storms all the time, but nothing so big that we get specialized weather warnings.

“What?” Nate grunts, looking at me.

“Didn’t you hear that?” I ask in disbelief, unsure why he isn’t having the same reaction. “There could be a hurricane tonight.”

“Where the hell have you been?” he laughs. “They’ve been talking about the hurricane all day.”

“There’s no hurricane,” Jesse scoffs from the back seat. “They’re always over exaggerating this stuff. I mean, sure, there will be a storm tonight, but nothing serious.”

I look out the window and sure enough, the storm that I had thought was coming this way during lunch is definitely settling itself in for a nice long visit. I just hope it’s not as bad as the news reporter is suggesting. Though Jesse is right, it is usually exaggerated. “I guess,” I mumble to myself. After all, what’s a little wind and rain?