Jessie
Spoiler! :
I was glad when nobody else came. My head was pounding, my body was aching, and I just couldn't stand the nurses high pitched, nasally voice.
Nurse Stone approached my bedside with a mini cup that had a few pills in it, and another cup with water. I didn't want it. They were pain relievers, but that made me tired, and I didn't want to sleep. The last time I did, I had a nightmare. It wasn't much of a nightmare, actually- Rupert disappearing up a set of stairs, me stumbling across a lawn, then a car coming out of nowhere and crashing into the side of my Ford Fiesta, sending me flying across the highway. Actually, I guess that wasn't even a nightmare. It was just a recap of what had happened to me while I was being stupid.
I reach out, take the mini cup and down the pills at once, washing it down with the water next. I shiver, then force a smile at the older woman, "Thanks. Did they say when I can leave?"
Ms. Stone nods, and tosses the cups in the trash before grabbing the clipboard from the foot of the bed, "You were released an hour ago, Dear, but nobody's come to pick you up. Your father got a call and had to leave, but he said to tell you he loves you."
Right. Of course. I wanted to cry then, because I was alone and I didn't remember everything that happened and I hated myself. I hated that I'd fallen for an unreachable guy. I hated that the girl I adored got him. I hated myself for letting him get her. I hated myself for getting involved. The tears were escaping my eyes before I could even process it, and I buried my face in the pillow as I heard the door open and close. Nurse Stone left me here. Didn't try an comfort me, nothing, but I was glad. I didn't want to talk to anyone.
I couldn't be stuck here. I needed a ride home, but I didn't know who to call. The one time I need someone, and nobody's there. I sure know how to choose friends, don't I?
I wiped my cheeks furiously, determined to pull myself together, then reached over and grabbed the hospital phone, typed in Daf's number, and waited for her to pick up. Except, she didn't pick up. It rang, and rang, and rang, but there was no answer. Her voicemail came a minute later, and I hung my head in defeat.
"Hey, Dafnie," I sniffle, and shake my head. "I need a ride home from the hospital. Please call me."
I wanted my car. I wanted to feel the soft seats, I wanted to smell the Vanilla beam that had lingered in there from all the times I'd sprayed perfume on me, I wanted to see the coffee stain on the passenger side rug, I just wanted my car back. I wanted the two days that I'd spent in this place back.
I hung up the phone, but grabbed it again a second later, remembering another person who could pick me up. I typed in her number, sighed, then held the phone to my ear as it rang.
"Hello?" Her voice was sharp, loud, slightly edgy. She sounded as if she'd been crying, I thought.
"Isabelle?" I can't help but whimper. The only person that answered me was her, the girl I'd been fighting with for about 8 years. She was the only one. "I...I need a ride home. My dad had to leave, and...nobody else is picking up."
"Jessie? You what?" She was distracted- I'd probably interrupted something. Dammit. "Are you still at the hospital?"
I nod, but then realize she can't see me. My voice cracked when I answered with, "Yeah."
"I-would you hold on? I'm on the phone!" She paused, and somebody else said something to her that made her growl in frustration, and I almost considered hanging up. "You still there?"
"Yeah," I mumble, rubbing my forehead with my free hand as the door opens again and Nurse Stone holds up a bag that contained my things in it. I nod to her, then swing my legs over the side of the hospital bed and blink, "Can you come get me? If not, I can probably get ahold on someone else..."
"No, no, I'm on my way," She said, and I heard a door slam, then a car start a minute later. She sighed into the phone then said, "I'll be there in a few."
"Thanks," I say as I slump my shoulders, and after saying goodbye, I hang up. I'm relying on Isabelle to come and pick me up. Isabelle. I must've hit my head harder than I thought.
It wasn't long before there was another knock on my door, and Isabelle coming in after a second of me not answering.
"Hey," She looked like crap- and that wasn't me being rude. That was the nicest way to put it. Her hair was tied up in an extremely messy bun, she had on sweats that I'm pretty sure she was wearing the last time I saw her, and I could see little purple spots on her from where I was sitting. But, I'm pretty sure I looked worse than her. I hadn't even looked in the mirror since I was brought here.
I nod to her, and cradle my arm to my chest as I scoot out of the bed and grab the plastic bag containing my things.
"Is that all you have?" Isabelle asks, and I don't know why, but I feel as if she'd just insulted me.
"What else would I have? I got into a car wreck, Isabelle. A god damn car wreck. What the fuck do you except me to have?" I snap, twisting around to face her. I can feel my cheeks heating up, and I have to take a step back just to take in what I've just said. I expected Isabelle to snap back, maybe even slap me for the sarcasm, but she just stands there with a sad smile. "I-I'm sorry...I'm just..."
"I know. It's fine. Let's go, I'm supposed to be meeting up with a friend here in a bit," She says with a slight shrug, then opens the door behind her. "I'm taking you home, right?"
"Mhm," I murmur, following her out of the room. "Thanks...for this."
"Don't worry about it," She says lightly, "So, I'll take it we're not on for this weekend?"
I laugh, and shake my head, "Maybe next weekend."
"I can live with that."
*** Three days later, yo ***
I push open the doors of the Library, and glance around before ruffling a hand through my tangled hair and stepping into the almost-quiet building. It'd been three days since I'd left the hospital, and everything was ten times harder than I'd expected it to be. It was just a broken arm and sprained neck, but it felt like so much more. Maybe because it was more. Should I be out here, walking around with this brace? Wouldn't it be more safe if I got Val or someone else to get me the books I needed for the project? Probably.
I have to wander around the Library until I find the shelf that holds all of the books that have to do with the Great Depression, and once I reach the aisle, I have to lean against the closest wall to steady myself. I don't think I could ever get used to this plastic contraption.
I bite down on my tongue and push off of the wall, then begin walking down the rows of books. The one I was looking for was 'America's Great Depression' by Murray Rothbard. It was supposedly a great resource for Life during the Great Depression- or, that's what Collin told me.
I skimmed over the labels until I found the 'M' section, and I was surprised when I found three copies of the book I was looking for. I stare at the book for a second before I realize it's too high up for me to reach. Damn. Three rows above me. I could stand on the edge of the shelf, but that'd be too dangerous.
There's a tap on my shoulder after a second, and I nearly scream because I wasn't expecting it. I whip around, and when I see that the person is a girl, I become relieved. I don't know why, but knowing that it was a girl made me more comfortable. Less stressed.
I offer a polite smile and clench my bag in my hand, "Am I in your way?"
The girl smiles, and I feel like I know her. Like I've seen her before. Maybe I have. She looked young, and her smile offers youth, so she might go to Lincoln Prep. Probably.
She shakes her head, and her dark hair waves with her, framing her face perfectly. I can't help but feel jealous. She's beautiful, with a perfect complextion, long hair, and she was tall. She had all the qualities guys liked in a girl. Everything I didn't have. "Did you need help with something?"
I stare at the girl, my eyes trailing over her features, wondering why I couldn't be like her. It takes me a second to remember that she'd asked me something. I shake my head and let out a small laugh before looking up at the book and saying, "I can't reach the book. It sounds a bit pathetic, I know, but I'm scared to even try. Could you...can you get it for me, please?"
She gave a smile that could outshine the sun. "Of course I can. It's no problem."
With the ease and gracefulness I wish I had, she reached up and plucked the book from it's spot on the shelf and held it out to me. "Do you need anything else?"
I wanted to think of something else she could help me with, just so I wouldn't be alone, but she probably had business to attend to. I shake my head once and take the book from her hand, then offer a smile, "No, I'm good. Thanks, though. Um...I'm Jessie, by the way."
"My name is Hawthorne, but most people just call me Thorne or Rose," she shrugged. "Whatever you pick is fine. Are you sure you don't need anything else? It's really no problem."
"I..." I glance down at the book, then sigh, "Do you want to sit with me? I don't have anything to do, other than read."
"Me either." she smiles.
She was nicer than I expected. The two of us find a small table with two chairs pushed under it, and take our seats quietly. I feel a bit dizzy, but I figured that was the meds. I look up at Thorne and take her appearance in once more- perfect skin, perfect brows, perfect nose, perfect everything. I touch a hand to my face- there's still scratches from the wreck, and I probably looked like crap. It was weird, because most of the time when I was in a public place, people would stare, and some would ask what happened. But her? She acted as if nothing were wrong with me. I guess she was used it, though, since she was friends with Cole. Or, I think she is. I've seen them talk before, but what do I know?
Once I realize that I've been staring too long, again, I tear my eyes away, feeling my face heat up. Why do I always do that? Damn. Thorne only giggles quietly, and I find myself smiling because, well...because.
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