Chapter Thirty-Seven: "Needs Overpower Wants."
I NAPPED for the rest of the day.
I was exhausted, and not just from the past two weeks. The surgery made me really sore and drowsy, and I tried to sleep as long as possible because I knew that at one point, I'd need to return to that Bed from Hell. Landon said he talked to his mom and she agreed with him on getting me a new mattress.
I hear faint voices, and that's when I know I'm coming to.
I open my eyes slowly, a groan coming from my lips. It sucks how I can only sleep on my back, especially because I always sleep on my right side, which is definite no-no on the doctors charts.
I see all the McGibbon members scattered around my room. Lance is at my feet, the twins are on the couch across from the bed, Louis is sitting on a chair in the corner, and Lucas is on the chair beside me.
"Brooklyn!" Lucas whispers happily. "Are you okay?"
I smile. "Nice Spanish, buddy," I say softly. "Yes, I'm alright."
Lucas has been doing phenomenal with his Spanish. I've been teaching him maybe once or twice a week, depending on how busy I am with chores or school. Though, I guess with my appendicitis, I'll be bedridden once again until I'm better enough to go to school. Stupid appendix and bear.
"Hey," the boys greet softly in unison. It's weird hearing them all speak nicely and in such a caring manner. The whole time I've been at their house they were always loud and obnoxious in a teasing way, and now it's foreign to me.
"Hey." I smile back. Lucas squeezes my hand, and I squeeze his back weakly. "Is my dad here yet?"
"No, not yet." Lance replies.
I frown at this. Could I have only slept a short amount of time? Is that why? "How long have I been asleep?"
"Sixteen hours," Landon answers. "He was coming from Australia, though, he said. He called not too long ago saying he'll be late because incoming flights in Toronto were delayed."
I nod in understanding. "So how much longer?"
"A few hours, anyway." He says with a frown. "He's coming, though, Blue. I promise."
"What time is it?"
"Maybe five in the morning?" Lance shrugs.
My eyes widen. "So why are you all here? Shouldn't you be at home and sleeping?"
"We're assholes sometimes, but it doesn't mean we don't care about you, you idiot." Louis scoffs.
Huh, well that's something new. I figured that they didn't care at all.
"You all should go home and rest." I say after a few minutes.
"We're okay." Lucas says. "I want to stay."
"How long have y'all been here?" I ask.
"Maybe since seven last night," Lance guesses.
My eyes widen. "Go back and get rest, seriously. All of you."
"Butâ"
"Don't make me kick you out." I warn.
"Fine." Lance says. "Come on Lucas, let's get you home."
"But I want to stay with Brooklyn!" He pouts, squeezing my hand. I can see the bags under his eyes and how exhausted he looks. He looks like he stayed up all night waiting for me to wake up.
"We can visit her later. Right now you need sleep." He tells his baby brother, and after a few minutes of fighting, Lucas finally gives in tiredly and lets Lance carry him out. Louis follows, but not the twins.
"Both of you, too." I scold.
They've been here since I've been here. They need to go and rest on the soft beds and not an uncomfortable chair and couch.
"Nope, I'm okay here." Liam says, kicking his feet up over his brother.
Landon pushes his feet off him and punches his shoulder. "Yeah, me too."
"No!" I exclaim exasperatedly. "Get out! You're not allowed back here until you've both gotten some sleep and proper food in your stomachs."
"We can do that here, Cupcake." Liam laughs.
"I'll cut open my incision if you don't leave." I threaten. Though, of course, I would never do that.
They have victorious smiles on their faces, but when they both make eye contact with me and see the seriousness of my expression, they drop them.
"Fine. But I'm going back only to shower." Landon states.
"Same." Liam says. "We'll be back in two hours."
I grin at their defeat, and watch the twins get up, stretch, and crack their backs. Liam walks out first, and Landon comes over to me.
"Two hours tops, alright?" He says softly.
"Go home, Landon." I smile.
He takes me by surprise when he leans in and kisses my forehead. His lips are so soft and warm; pink and plump. It sends electricity through where his mouth was and it starts to tingle.
I watch him walk out of the room, my hand placed over where his lips touched. I don't know why it feels like it's such a big deal, but it does.
An hour passes and my doctor comes in to check up on me. Apparently they do routine hourly checkups with me, but of course all sixteen times she's come I've been asleep.
"Hello Brooklyn," she smiles warmly.
"Hey." I say.
"How are you feeling?"
"My stomach is still sore." I admit.
"You still look pale, but you're definitely looking a lot better than when you arrived." She says. "Any nausea or vomiting?"
"No. I've had a migraine maybe once or twice though. But I think it could be disinfectant, since strong smells don't do me any well."
She nods. "We'll see what we can do for the smell. As for your healing process, if all is well within the next twelve hours then you can go home tomorrow."
"Really?" I ask, an excited chirp coming out of my mouth.
"Yes." She chuckles. "But there's rules and precautions you need to take, but we'll go through those when you leave."
I nod my head. "Okay, thank you."
"Anything you need? I can page an intern."
I shake my head, and she smiles again before disappearing, closing my door behind her.
I spend the next hour or so watching TV in darkness. The lights were hurting me again so I chose an easy route to help resolve my near-blindness. There wasn't much on cable, but I was enthralled when I saw that Impractical Jokers was on and it was something that I actually enjoyed watching.
A knock on the hospital door has me pulling my eyes away from Q shoving his face into Chinese food and wondering what someone would want.
Clearly when a girls hospital lights are off and her door closed means that she doesn't want to be disturbed. Too bad they don't have those signs in hospitals like they do hotels. It could be proven quite effective and will jump my hospital ratings from a brute one to a three. I hate hospitals but I'm willing to comply if this suggestion ruled in my favour.
"Come in." I say in a normal voice, keeping my eye on the television. Whenever I wanted privacy, I'd close the door and turn down the lights. Nurses who did hourly checks would usually knock before entering. I liked their politeness.
The door opens and a tall figure walks in. I can't tell who it is since the light from the hallway is shadowing their face. It's easier enough to decipher that it's a man, given I've never seen a woman that tall in my life. Guess the nurses changed shifts.
"Close the door behind you. The brightness makes me dizzy." I say nonchalantly. I really badly just want to curl on my side or stomach to get comfortable and sleep in any position that isn't on my back. It's been so tiring, so uncomfortable, sometimes I wish I broke my butt so I could lay down flat and not as an arch. Sure these hospital beds meant for long-ish term patients are somewhat comfy, but damn at least more pillows can improve your stay.
The man closes the door, and walks over to my bedside. I'm hit with a very manly smell, and when I try to figure it out, I want to vomit.
"What happened? Are you okay?" He asks.
"Nothing. I'm fine." I say with a clipped tone.
"Please don't be like this." He says.
"I can be however I want to be, thank you very much. After all, had you not heard? I've gone crazy and ran back to Mexicoâwhere I came from. Isn't that what you wanted? What you told me to do?"
"I didn't mean it, Brooklyn. I was caught up in the moment."
"No, you were caught up in your fucking ego, and you expect me to believe that you were 'caught up in the moment' for days? You told me exactly how you feel about me, Atticus. What the fuck do you want from me? What are you doing here?"
"I saw you, across the lake. It's really rare to hear an ambulance this far up the mountains, so it had people turning heads. It stopped right across from our house on the lake, so I checked it out and saw you on a stretcher, and you screaming."
"Nice of you to ask if I'm okay." I hiss.
"Brooklyn, please don't give me attitude. Hear me out. Please."
"What makes you think I should? What do you want from me?"
"I want a second chance." He says, his voice low and soft. His eyes reflect off of one of the monitors I'm attached to, and I see the heavy bags underneath them. He looks tired, like he hasn't slept in ages and I feel something so unlike me: I don't care.
Why is that?
Why don't I care about him now when I could have sworn to myself two weeks ago that I did?
Here I am. The girl who feels everything, the girl who tries to prevent bad and go for good, the girl who accepts everyone and finally accepts that not everyone will like her, is actually becoming unemotional.
Maybe it was the words he said? Maybe it was how he said them? Maybe it was when he was distant after I kicked him out a half hour after calling him?
Maybe it was when I realized that he was never a friend I needed to have in my life anyways.
Atticus is a popular guy. He's attractive, intelligent, fun, has a sense of humour, is a woman magnet. He's everything I am not. I used to be all of that, but poor life choices turned me ugly. Becoming friends with this boy was a risk of reputation, and it's already getting out of hand. Instead of having one or two targets, I've unintentionally created more than that, and Atticus may end up in the same gutter I was if Annabelle goes after him.
It's guys like him who mess me up.
They get into your head, tell you encouraging thoughts, make you think that they've told you things that they've never told anyone ever before. They tell you you're unique and special. Kind and beautiful. Smart and funny. But. . .
They also lie.
And that's exactly what I think this is: a fraud.
I think Atticus is a fraud for even introducing himself to me in hopes of getting a quick snag or in hopes of fucking me up more than I already am.
Him showing up here while I'm ill as hell shows weakness. I'm at my weakest point right now, and he was one of my weaknesses. And how he's going to try to manipulate me and get in my head in order for me to forgive him, only to have the process repeat itself all over again.
"Well, that's great that that's something you want." I scoff. "What about what I want, Atticus? What about my satisfaction? I want to go home. I want to not be in this town. I want to not be in this damn hospital bed. I want to be able to lay down on my freaking stomach without worrying of having surgery again. I have wants that are important, and all you want is forgiveness?"
"Yes." He answers, his voice a whisper.
"And you came in here, in a hospital while I could have died, to ask me, what? To give you a sack of potatoes?"
"I want your forgiveness, Brooklyn." He says. "The guilt is eating me alive for talking to you so harshly."
"Well tough cheese!" I snap. "We don't all get what we want, buddy."
"Sweâ"
"Don't say my name." I warn. "I don't want friends, okay? I don't need friends. What I need, is education. I need my perfect marks back, and I'm going to need to bust my ass off because some jerkface cancelled all tutoring sessions so now I need to catch up. Needs overpower wants, Atticus. Now, get out."
My chest heaves heavily at my rant. I'm at a loss of breath since this is the longest I've spoken in daysâover a week, even. All I've done was sleep and barely eat. Talking made bile rise to my throat.
I wasn't expecting that kind of reaction from myself, given my attitude change, but I guess old habits die hard and I expressed what I've been bottling in for the past week.
Of course I never meant to be so blunt and I was truly hoping that I could forgive him eventually, but now I think that question is off the charts.
I made a promise to myself and I plan on keeping it.
Carly was fine, but knowing there were others? I knew drama would be stirred up. With Landon and Liam and Louis and Lance, I don't know. There's only three other people in their group. Combining the population of both groups makes the numbers even out, so that irks me a little, but I somehow keep reminding myself that I already know four of them. Somewhat.
Think of it this way, Brookie. You can be a loner for the rest of your high school life. You've accepted that.
"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart." He whispers sadly. My heart aches when I sense the truth pouring out, but I dismiss it forcefully because I know that eventually, I'll forgive him the more he keeps bugging me for accepting his apology.
I give a curt nod and watch him stand, backing up away from my bed, and when he gets to the door, it flies open revealing another man.
He's bulky, tall, and has a sharp hat atop of his head. I recognize him immediately.
"Papa!" I exclaim happily, all anger inside me disappearing as I stare at the man before me. I wince in pain when I try to sit up, but I brush it off and my father walks over, engulfing me gently into his arms. He smells like Axe cologne, his signature scent.
I feel the immediate comfort that I haven't felt in a long time, and being in this moment right now makes me realize even more how much I missed my daddy and how he was the only one who could truly comfort me on a level that my friends could never reach.
I watch out of the corner of my eye, Atticus look at me confusedly and sadly and walk out of the room, closing the door behind him.
My dad and I pull away after a few minutes. "You're early!" I say happily. "I was told you were going to be a couple more hours."
He gives me a wide smile. "I made do. I've missed you so much, kiddo."
"I've missed you too, dad." I return the grin.
He frowns suddenly, his smile dropping as he looks around at the machines I am currently hooked up to. I know one of them is an IV drip, but the others, I have no clue.
"I'm okay," I say softly.
"What happened?" He asks, stroking my cheek with his soft hands. You figured that for a pilot who has his hands on a wheel for hours straight that his palms would be rough, but not my dad's. His hands are as soft as a dermatologists.
"I thought you knew?" I question.
"I do," he nods. "But I want to hear it from you."
I nod silently. "Um, last Tuesday, I went to the doctors to have my cast removed." I begin slowly.
"Cast?" He questions.
I frown deeply. If he had read my letters, we wouldn't be having this conversation.
"Brooklyn, how did you get a cast?"
"Um. . . the first time, it was, um. . . in jail, and the second, I fell down the stairs."
"You were hurt in jail?" He asks with wide eyes.
"It wasn't my first rodeo dad," I mutter. "That's what I get for meeting a manipulative liar, and befriending a murderer."
"I knew sending you there was a mistake." He says softly. "When you ran away, your mother wouldn't allow room for argument. I wouldn't have sent you there for that reason, sweetie."
I nod. "I know. I didn't before, but I know that now."
He gives me a faint smile. "So, you went to the doctor and then what?"
***
Dad left a few hours later. By then, the everyone in the McGibbon residence had showed up, including Ella and Thomas. He said that he had a hotel downtown close to the school and the hospital, and that he would be staying in Thunder Bay until I recovered.
I couldn't be more happy that my dad flew all the way across the world just to be there for me when I recover. I've asked Ella if I could stay with dad for the week since he is in walking distance of school, but she refused to let me walk given the severity of my injury, so now believe it or not, I have one brother who will be picking me up to bring me to classes. Who? I have no idea. That's what we're discussing now.
"I can bring her home her first day," Lance offers. "But I have some major tests coming up in the morning classes and I'll be leaving early to study. I also got assignments, so I'm full."
"Right," she nods. "Grades first. Okay, so one of you two need to drive her." Ella points to Landon and Liam. Louis can't drive yet, and I haven't gotten my Canadian driver's license. Even then, I'd need my G2 to drive by myself.
"I can do mornings, just not afternoons." Liam says. "It's hockey season; unless you want to wait two and a half hours after school until I'm done?"
"No thank you." I give him a tight smile.
"Great! Then Landon, honey, you can drive her home." Ella grins, and Landon chuckles, nodding. "It's settled then."
The door opens, and I turn to see my doctor. It's the hourly check up. "Hello Brooklyn and family," she greets, and looks over at me. "You look a lot better than you did last time I was here. You're not as pale and colour is surely returning."
"Does that mean I get to go home?" I question hopefully.
She chuckles. "The twelve hour mark hasn't passed yet, Brooklyn."
"Why does that matter?"
"Like I said, the first forty eight hours are critical after a surgery. Once those hours are up, then we can assure your safety and that infection is not as likely to happen."
"Right," I mumble. I close my eyes and throw my head back into the pillow in defeat. Ten more hours left in this hospital bed? Ugh, this is awful.
"Brooklyn?"
I snap my head to the side. "Who was that?"
Is it my mind playing tricks on me?
Am I a hallucination?
My eyes scan past my doctor but her shadow is in the way.
I toss until she finally moves and my eyes widen.
"Mom?"