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Rory beamed. “That’s what I said!” Stepping away from Ryan, she held up a paper cup in her hand. “We got you a trauma latte.”
“A trauma latte?”
Rory bobbed her head. “It’s caramel.”
I glanced at the bedside table where there were three other identical-looking cups.
“It was a long night,” a girl with a chin-length bob said. I recognized her as much as everyone else in the room. Not at all.
I felt my eyes round. “You’ve all been here all night?”
“Just me and P,” Ben answered. “They went back to the dorms for sleep and swim practice.”
“I live in a dorm,” I said, remembering. “And I’m a lifeguard.” I gasped. “I play piano too!”
Ben scoffed. “Girl, you don’t play piano. You own it. Best damn ivory-tickler I’ve ever heard.”
Ivory-tickler? I giggled.
He glanced at me, a half smile curving his lips. “You liked that one, did ya?”
I really liked the way he looked at me, like his eyes were hugging me. An eye embrace. Is that a thing? It must be because I felt cuddled even though he wasn’t even touching me.
“Your self-awareness is good,” the doctor said, making notes on his iPad. “Anterograde amnesia is what occurs when a patient has problems forming new memories.”
“I remember everything that’s happened since I woke up,” I said quickly, anxiety making my stomach churn. “I don’t have that.”
The doctor nodded. “I would agree. You seem to be holding on to new information just fine. As for the confusion, that’s normal. The longer you’re awake, the more you will be able to acclimate yourself.” He paused, glancing at Ben then back at me. “You don’t remember anything about your injury or what happened to you last night?”
A flutter of panic burst in me, spreading through my limbs with startling speed. My fingers automatically reached for Ben’s as if my body knew where to go when it needed reassurance.
His body seemed to know when to give it because he gently tugged me into his side. I sank into his warmth with a silent exhale. Everything was confusing right now, but the safe way he made me feel was utterly clear.
“I don’t remember,” I whispered. “What happened to me?”
Ben started to say something, but the doctor cut him off almost immediately. “I’m going to order a second CT scan because of the memory loss you’re experiencing. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, as the first scan was fine, but I’d like to do this as a precautionary measure.”
I nodded. “Will I remember?”
“Most likely.”
Frankly, I didn’t find that reassuring. “When?” I asked, wanting to fill in the gaps in my memory, sensing what I’d lost was somehow very important.
“It could be in a few minutes or a few weeks. There really is no timeline on brain injuries like this.”
“But I will remember,” I pressed.
“I can’t guarantee anything.” He hedged, and I kinda wanted to poke him in the eye.
No wonder Ben was so surly with these people. They were horrible.
“I’ll put in the order right now, and once that’s done, I’ll come back with the results and finish my exam. By then, the surgeon will probably be here and can talk to you about your ankle.”
I glanced at the white cast around my lower leg and foot. “How will I work?” I stressed. Then I gasped. “I work at a music store!”
“Look at that. The old brain is warming up,” a guy with dark hair and eyes mused. He was standing beside the blonde.
“Not enough,” I muttered, wishing I knew all these people who’d showed up for me.
