Page 18 of Freddie

With no next of kin listed, they were unsure who to call. With my mom’s dementia and the fact that she’s in a residential home for the elderly, there was no point calling her. My dad lived north about two hundred miles with my stepmom, so there was no call to them either. So, my best friend was called instead.

Visiting hours long gone now, so it would be early morning before he could come and see me, but he was assured that I was doing okay. Knowing Arnie, he probably got a lot more information out of them about my current state than any other person would have gotten.

Sitting up with a wince, I eat the toast that someone brought in and take some medication that’s sat next to it in a little white cup once the nurse leaves me. She didn’t say I had a concussion, but I still can’t wrap my head around seeing Freddie here with me. It had to have been someone who looked like him. With my head feeling heavier than lead, I close my eyes and let myself float back to sleep.

Arnie visits first thing. I’d put money on him being the first through the door at visiting hours. Thankfully, he knows me well and stopped by my apartment to grab me a bag of clean clothes, the book I’m currently reading so I don’t off myself from boredom, and the pack of emergency gummy bears I secretly love but for some reason Arnie knows about.

“So, when will they send you home?” Arnie asks, sitting on the creaky wooden chair by the bed.

While he isn’t as big as me, his large frame is still squashed uncomfortably into it. He’s opened my bears and is making a mess by throwing them up to catch them with his mouth. I scowl every time another one hits the linoleum flooring.

I shrug one shoulder. “I don’t know. They said they wanted to keep me in and run some more tests. Something about the crash being so bad that this couldn’t have been my only injuries.” I try to wriggle my broken wrist to demonstrate, but it hurts. I clench my teeth at my stupidity.

“Well, I can keep you company for a bit, then I’ll come back tonight. Are you sure you don’t want me to call out of work? I really don’t mind.” Such a good guy is Arnie, but I don’t see the point in him taking time off to basically just watch me have tests taken, then sent on my way. It was nice of him to offer, but I really felt okay.

“I’ll be fine. Have my book and it’s gotten to this really great part about Elysian Fields,” I grin as I speak about my latest read, knowing that Arnie hates the genre. He sticks two of his fingers in his mouth to show his real feelings, and it makes me laugh and wince at the same time.

We talk some more. Arnie has brought me in a proper coffee and a pastry from my favourite cafe, but all too soon it’s consumed and he’s leaving with the cups and boxes for the bin. A promise not to check my phone for work emails and a wave, then I’m alone again.

The curtain provides enough privacy as I lie and watch the staff outside the ward window. I think back to last night, to Freddie. Was I dreaming? I must have been. They gave me pretty powerful painkillers, so I was in and out of it most of the night. But something niggles around inside of me, telling me that no, he was here. He watched me sleep like a twinky arch angel.

I laugh at my description of him. Freddie. I missed him, but didn’t know how it was possible. We had only texted a few times since the gift. We’ve both been so busy with the end of the year coming up that it was only a message here or there. Nothing deep, just a little flirty. Maybe once I got released, I would send him a real message. Get to know him properly instead of just trying to pursue him from a lust-only angle.

Reading takes up a good portion of the late morning into lunch, and once I’ve consumed a moderate meal that was better than I would have thought, I decide to nap again until my doc comes for me.

Chapter 21

Simmons

The smell of honey and oranges wakes me up.

I inhale deeply first before opening my eyes and letting out a long breath. Not sure what to expect, it’s still the last thing.

Freddie, cross-legged on that creaky chair, peeling an orange with extreme precision whilst balancing his phone to watch something on the movable table lying over me. He must see me gaping at him in confusion as he sets the orange down on the table in front of him and wipes his hands on a tissue while he keeps eye contact and presses pause on the show.

Then, his polished, pretty teeth are grinning at me. He’s wearing an oversized black and white striped jumper. It looks soft against his pale skin and hangs off his shoulder on one side. His hair is wavy today and hanging just by his ears, which have little metal studs in them that are in the shape of barbed wire. A look of uncertainty crosses his face before he speaks.

“I read somewhere that the scent of a freshly peeled orange can act as a stress reducer and mood booster.” He points to the fruit in front of me. I dip my head, smiling as I nod in understanding.

“I’m a volunteer,” he states matter-of-factly, which has me looking back at him. He’s chewing his bottom lip, picking at his black nail polish while he waits for me to finally say something. I clear my throat, but to what I’m about to say, I’m unsure. Why are you here? Why are you a volunteer at the hospital I’m in? Are you wearing lip gloss?

“Uh, that’s a cool fact,” I tell him like a fucking idiot. He gives me a signature Freddie smirk, his shoulders relaxing a little. Okay, we are both bad at this.

“Freddie…” I start, but he has me beat.

“I didn’t know you were here. I promise I am not a stalker. God, could you imagine if I were crazy! Like following you and taking care of you like some sort of twinky Annie Wilkes?” I chuckle at his instant referral to a psychotic stalker.

“I didn’t think you were a crazy Annie Wilkes twink stalker, Freddie. I was actually wondering why on earth you’re volunteering in a city hospital where I live when I thought you had flown in to come to that expo?” He nods thoughtfully at my question, my joke ignored.

“I’m sorry, I thought I told you I lived here,” he responds. Wait, what? I’m sure I would have remembered that. There’s no way he told me that. We could have met up if that had been the case.

“I’m sure if you had mentioned it, I would have suggested meeting up,” I tell him honestly.

What I wouldn’t have given to have spent some time with him in my home, God, in my bed. Regret at not asking more about him at the expo floods my senses, and I hate that the crash could have been it for me and I would have missed my chance with this enigmatic boy.

“Oh… I think I was just too horny to be fair when we met. I definitely wasn’t thinking straight after that meeting in the locker room or in the conference room. To be honest, right after too,” he admits, a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s thinking about what we did. I can tell from how blown his pupils are in the late afternoon light.

“So, anyway. How are you feeling?” he leans forward and opens the orange, sitting one half in front of me and taking the other for himself. We eat and I tell him about my injuries, how long I should be here and what they’ve given me for the pain. He nods along, eating and smiling.