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“OH MY GOD. HER HEAD IS BANDAGED!” Kat says, rushing toward me. “Are you dying?”
“No. It’s just a cut.”
“Yasmine, don’t just stand there! Get her water! Food! Something!”
“I’m fine, really.” I have to bat away the sandwich Kat picks up off my tray and tries to shove into my mouth.
“You poor thing. Are you in loads of pain? Want Yasmine to give you a bit of a foot rub? Yaz? Get to it.”
“I’m fine! I swear. No one touch my feet.”
Yasmine immediately stops trying to untangle them from the blankets.
“Where’s Logan? Down getting you something from the gift shop? Tell him not to bother—I think we’ve cleared out the place,” Yasmine says, dropping a load of things onto the end of my bed. There’s a box of chocolates, a little charm bracelet wrapped in a clear box, and a teddy bear wearing a pair of scrubs like he’s about to go perform surgery—and that’s just half of it. There’re about twenty balloons filling the air, bobbing up and down. I swat one away when it gets too close to my head.
“Are you two both mad?”
“We’re worried!” Kat whines. “You can’t even imagine! There we were, enjoying some wine on a Sunday evening, and then we turned on the telly and there’s our mate, splayed out on the street with sirens wailing around her!”
“They showed it on TV?!”
I thought Mum was exaggerating.
“Yes! It was part of the news and everything! Very big deal. Now, don’t worry. Your knickers were showing for a bit, and in my opinion, they weren’t your cutest pair—”
“Don’t make the poor girl feel worse,” Yasmine groans.
“Right, well, you did look quite nice when they lifted you up on the gurney.”
“Yes! Very brave. And of course, Logan looked absolutely handsome, worrying over you like that. For a little while I didn’t think they’d let him into the back of the ambulance with you, but then he shouted at them all heroic like. Wasn’t that brilliant, Kat?”
“Yes. Like something out of a movie. I cried a bit. And then we rushed here, of course, to be by your side, though I can’t stay for too long. Jay’s expecting me for a late drink, and Yaz has got to run to see Marcus too.”
“Oh good. Abandoning me already?”
“Well we figured you wouldn’t want us around anyway,” Kat continues. “Just getting in the way. Won’t Logan be back soon?”
“No.”
They exchange a worried glance. “What do you mean?”
“He’s gone. Left earlier after we had a shouting match. I sort of took things too far, I’m afraid.”
Kat nearly jumps on me in a panic, grabbing her mobile to shove at me. “Call him! Apologize!”
“I can’t. I mean…I don’t know if I want to. He really made me mad.”
“Who cares?! Swallow your pride and apologize anyway. That man loves you! He was about to fight a paramedic to get to you, I swear it.”
“Fine. I’ll call when you two clear out.”
“Okay, then we’re off.”
“Already?”
“Like I said, we’ll just get in the way.”
“Hospitals sort of give me the willies, to be honest,” Yasmine says, giving the room a quick look of disgust.
“Whatever. Go on. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Love you! Heal up!”
When they’re gone, I’m left with my mobile taunting me to have some courage and ring Logan. I hesitate at first, worrying about what I’ll say, but then finally, I give in.
It rings and my heart thunders in my chest like it never has before. I worry I’m overdoing it. My poor body has been through a lot in one day, and now I’m putting it through even more emotional upheaval. The call rings again and again, but I don’t hang up. I will him to answer with a silent plea.
It continues on like that four more times before his voicemail kicks on.
The preprogrammed robotic voice fills the air, and because I’m a total chicken, I hang up right when it beeps for me to leave a message.
Well then…at least I’ve tried. No sense in crying. Much.Chapter Twenty-FourCandace“Could someone refill my tea?” I ask, wagging my empty mug from my comfy spot on the couch.
“You’ve got legs,” Kat says, without looking up from her mobile.
“Yasmine?”
Her inaudible gibberish tells me she’s not getting up either.
“Oh lovely! Where was this attitude when you two came rushing into my room at the hospital, worried sick?”
Yasmine yawns and stretches out on the other side of the sofa. We’re sharing, though she’s taking up way too much room. I try to steal a bit more blanket and she yanks it back.
“Yes, well that was before you started milking our sympathy for all it’s worth. Kat, could you please stop shouting on the phone? Kat, could you please put your dish away instead of just letting it collect mold in the sink? I mean, truly, when will it end?”
“You’re right,” I drawl, monotone. “I’m practically Mussolini.”
