Southern Heat (Southern 6)

"You look so pretty,” Shirley says, coming into the room, pushing an empty wheelchair. “Not that you weren’t pretty before, but"—she smiles—“this suits you."

"Thank you,” I say, slipping the flip-flops on and avoiding looking at her. I don’t know how I’m going to do it without her.

"You ready to blow this popsicle stand?” Chelsea says, and I just look at Shirley.

"I can walk,” I say.

"It’s hospital policy, I’m afraid,” she says, so I walk over to the wheelchair and sit down in it.

"We’ll wait for you outside," Amelia says, looking at Chelsea, who just smiles and nods at me.

“Are you ready?" Shirley asks, and I look up at her.

"I’ve never been more scared in my whole life,” I say, my hand shaking on top of my legs. "I’ve been in my share of situations in my life," I start to say, and my voice cracks. “But I’ve never been in this one."

"Oh, honey," she says, sitting on the bed next to the wheelchair.

"Hatred, I can handle. Hateful words just roll off my back. But this?" I point at the door where Amelia and Chelsea just walked out of. “That, I don’t know what to do with that."

"You embrace it,” she says softly. “The universe has turned now,” she says, sniffling. “And it is time for you to see all the good there is out there in the world." The lump in my throat is so big I don’t even think I can swallow. “You, my beautiful girl, are going to soar."

"I’m going to," I start to say and stop talking, not sure I should tell her.

"I’m going to miss you." She finishes for me, and I nod at her, and the tears come. She gets up and comes to me, hugging me. “I’ll come and visit you, and you have to come back here in three days anyway."

"What if”—I wipe my face with the back of my hand—“I need you?”

"Then you call me,” she says. “Quinn has all my information."

"What?" I ask her, confused.

"He asked me for my phone number right before he left,” she says and smiles. “He might be a jackass, but we agree on something."

"Yeah,” I say when she gets up and turns the wheelchair around. “What’s that?"

"You,” she says, beaming.

The black bag sits on my lap as she pushes me down the same hall she did when taking me for X-rays. The nerves are still there, but a different fear fills me. She pushes me into the elevator, and we descend to the lobby.

The hustle and bustle of people are all around us as she pushes me across the shiny cream-colored floor. People call out to her and say hello as we approach the big glass doors. She presses a button, and the two glass doors open, and the heat hits me right away.

I tilt my head, looking up at the sun, and the heat goes right through me. "Hey." I hear his voice, and I have to put my hand over my eyes to open them without seeing stars. "I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

"Just saying goodbye," Shirley says. I get up and his arm wraps around me to make sure I don’t fall.

He stands over me, blocking the sun, so I open my eyes. "You text me and tell me how she is doing,” Shirley says to Quinn, who just nods as he helps me get into the red truck.

It smells brand new, and I look down to see that the leather seats shine in the sun. The dashboard doesn’t have a speck of dust on it. "I will,” he says, and I look over to see Shirley standing there waving at me as Quinn closes the door.

The black bag sits on my lap as the door opens again, with Quinn laughing. “I forgot to buckle you in,” he says, and suddenly, he’s all over me. His face is right in front of me as he leans his body over me to fasten the seat belt. His woodsy smell makes me close my eyes. “Are you okay?" he asks softly, and when I open my eyes, he is right in front of my face. I don’t say anything to him. Instead, I just nod.

He smiles, and when he closes the door again, I let go of the breath I’m holding. I watch him walk around the front of the truck and get in, then he starts the truck while putting on his seat belt. “Are you hungry?" he asks.

"Not really,” I say. My nerves have stopped me from even thinking about food.

He pulls away from the hospital, and I take the time to look out the window. I look at all the trees, wondering if I would recognize anything, but the trees all look the same as we drive toward wherever he is taking me. I make notes in my head of how many times he’s turned, and then when we get to the town, I make a note of the diner. Then we turn into what looks like an opening of trees.