“What are you doing?”
Michael froze before I slowly turned around, watching Clint’s doctor appear beside his father.
“I’d like to know the same thing, actually.”
I sighed. “I just wanted to know how Clint was doing.”
The doctor furrowed his brow. “And you are…?”
His father snickered. “No one important.”
I glared at Clint’s father. “I’m his girlfriend. I’m the one that found him. You said he’s going to be okay, Doctor? Like, really okay?”
Clint’s father stepped up to the plate. “He needs space. From you. Because I have a feeling you got him into this mess in the first place.”
I shook my head. “That isn’t what happened. Those boys approached us, sir. We had nothing to do with it.”
The doctor held up his hand. “This sounds like a statement for the police in the E.R. waiting room. Where the two of you should be.”
“Please,” I begged, “I care about Clint. Deeply. And I’m worried about him. I don’t have to see him. I just want to know what all he needed work on. I know his nose was broken. I think his shoulder was dislo—”
“Back off and let us handle this. Now. Before I have you escorted out.”
I snapped back. “Or you’ll what? Slug me like you enjoy slugging your son?”
His father lunged at me, causing Michael to step in front of me. His father began ranting. Raving. Screaming down the hallway as the doctors and nurses held him back.
“You don’t know shit about how this works! You don’t know a damn thing! Get the hell out of here before I have you arrested and put in handcuffs and charged with attempted murder, you stupid little girl!”
Michael groaned. “Did you really have to spit that out?”
I pushed him away. “Maybe now someone will investigate it and arrest that man for all the things he should be thrown into jail for.”
“Sir, calm down, or you’ll be escorted off the premises.”
“Sir, I’ll have to sedate you if you don’t stop.”
“Get that girl out of here. She’s not welcome around my son any longer!”
Tears rushed my eyes as a woman poked her head out of the recovery room. And when my eyes landed on Clint’s stepmother, sorrow filled her face again. She mouthed how sorry she was to me. And for a moment, I thought maybe we understood one another.
Until someone grabbed my arm.
“You can’t be back here if you’re not family. I’m sorry, but romantic partners don’t count. Come with me before you get into any more trouble.”
I freely went with the nurse as she led me back out into the E.R. waiting room. And as Michael came up behind me, I started gathering my things. I’d lost my shoe along the way somewhere. Also, my phone. I picked it up and headed for the exit doors, not bothering to hear what Clint’s father was still screaming down the hallways. People stared. Some gawked. Others eavesdropped in order to get their daily dose of gossip. I hopped out of the E.R. doors as I put my shoe on, then tucked my phone away in my bra.
As silent tears streaked my cheeks.
Michael placed his hand between my shoulder blades, silently leading me toward his car. But all I wanted to do was go and sit by Clint’s bed. I couldn't stand this. I couldn't stand not knowing. What all did they have to do in surgery? How many stitches did he have? What kind of medication was he on? Would he fully recover? Would he be able to ride his bike again, if he wanted?
I needed to see him. Touch him. Place my ear against his heart and still hear it beating. I needed to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he really was all right.
But his father wouldn't even give that to me.
I mean, what else did you expect, Rae?
Michael opened up his car door for me and helped me in. He closed the door, and I leaned my forehead against the cool glass. I let the sounds of the world fade into the background as I watched as the hospital disappeared in the rearview mirror while we drove away. I moved and weaved with the twists and turns Michael took. And after he pulled up to a drive-thru menu, his voice pierced the silence.