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Chapter Four
Jake
Since the other night when I talked to Drake to let him know that I am here, things have been good. I've kept my word to them both. Today is Emily's birthday. Unfortunately, she's working and Drake has a game tonight. I told her I would take him to school this morning, so she, Helen, and Kristi could have breakfast together. She's already left and Drake and I are leaving for school.
“What are you doing for Emily's birthday again?”
“I'm taking her to dinner after your game. We'll get you something to eat before we go.”
Drake nods. The light turns green and we begin to cross the intersection. I look over at Drake as he begins to say something, and my eyes widen as a car crashes into his side. Everything ceases. I don't hear anything. I don't see nor feel anything. My senses pause. When it all comes back, my eyes open again. My head is throbbing as my eyes quickly turn to Drake. He's got some blood on his face and appears dazed when I call his name. Luckily, it appears the car hit the back half of the car.
“Drake, buddy,” I begin, unbuckling my seatbelt. His eyes are glazed and the blood seems to be coming from a cut on his forehead. “Does anything hurt?”
“What?” he mumbles.
“Does anything hurt?”
Slowly, he shakes his head. In the distance, I hear sirens blaring. I open my door. All traffic around us has stopped. I walk around to Drake's side and see that his door was hit some, and I won't be able to open it. The man from the other vehicle is still in his car, looking even more confused than Drake. Thankfully, the ambulance and police arrive. After a few minutes, Drake is being loaded into an ambulance, and I worry that he's suffered from a concussion. He's dazed, confused, and slurs when he speaks.
“What happened?” he asks the paramedic that's tending to him.
“You were in a car accident. We're on our way to the hospital.”
“Where's my brother?”
I grab his hand and lean forward so he can see me. “I'm right here. You're going to be fine, okay?”
The paramedic asks one more time if I'm okay.
“Yeah. Just a headache. I'm fine.”
“You'll still need to get checked out when we get to the hospital,” she tells me.
Drake closes his eyes and I nod at the woman. I ask Drake random questions to keep his eyes opened. By the time we arrive at the hospital, he's more alert, but says his head still hurts. The paramedic tells him that he'll need stitches and Drake grins.
“Will I have a scar too?”
“Maybe.”
“Sweet.”
I shake my head at him. He's excited about a scar, not worrying about anything else. While I'm being cleared because it seems that I only bumped my head, Drake is taken for tests to check on his head. The doctor tells me that he has indeed suffered from a concussion, but he should be fine. He'll have to take it easy for the next few days. Drake isn't happy about missing tonight's game or practice over the next few days either. It's been about an hour and a half since we arrived at the hospital, and Drake is getting his six stitches when my phone starts ringing.
Shit. It's Emily. I forgot to call her.
“Hey, Sweetness,” I answer easily.
“Jake? Is everything okay? The school called and said that Drake never made it to school and they couldn't get up with you when they tried calling. I was so worried because there was a wreck at an intersection on the route we take to his school and I didn't know if it was you.”
“That was us.” Emily gasps. “We're fine,” I add quickly. “Drake's getting stitches right now and he has a concussion, but other than that, we're fine.”
“Oh, thank god.” Emily pauses, and then anger rages in her voice. “Why didn't you call me?! Jake, that accident was hours ago!”
“Sweetness,” I soothe, “We're fine. I didn't think to call, okay? I'm sorry. I was worried about Drake and caught up in that. Not to mention, I had to get checked out too. I'm sorry.”
“Do you know how terrified I was when the school called me? Are you sure y'all are okay? I can leave work...” Her voice is soft and scared as she trails off.
“I'm sorry, Sweetness. We're okay, though. Stay at work. I'll take Drake around with me today. I have to get cleared by the team too. We'll see you when you get home.”
“Are you sure he needs to be out and about?”
“I'll double check, but I'm sure he'll be fine. If it makes you feel better, I'll send you a picture to show you that we're fine.”
Sweetness sighs. “Okay.”
“I love you. Always.”
“I love you too, Jake.”
After I hang up and Drake's done with stitches, I sit beside him, snap a picture of us and send it to Emily. Seconds later, she's calling me again.
“He's so pale, Jake!” I look at Drake, and he does look a little pale. “This is crazy. I'm coming. I'll take y'all home and you can drive my car to go get checked out while I stay with Drake.”
By her tone, I know not to argue. “Okay. We'll be ready.”
The doctor prescribes Drake some medication for his headache and tells us that his stitches will need to come out in ten days. We're discharged and sitting in the waiting room until Emily arrives. I make the necessary phone calls for hockey, getting my car towed to a place to be fixed, insurance office, and an appointment for a rental car. Sweetness looks disheveled when she bursts into the waiting room. Her shoulders sag with relief as she hurries over to us. She wraps Drake into a hug and then pulls back to examine him.
“Are you feeling okay? No broken bones or brain damage or anything?” She grabs his chin and turns his head to the left and the right. Worry is all over her face, even though I already told her we are fine.
Drake gives her a half smile. “Just six stitches, a concussion, and no hockey for at least four days.”
Finally, Sweetness looks more relaxed as she turns to me, placing a hand on my knee. “And you?”
“Only a headache.”
“Let's get you two home then. I'm happy you two are okay. I was so worried.” Emily squeezes my knee, almost in apology for worrying anyway. I didn't expect anything less. As we walk out, she wraps an arm around my waist and an arm around Drake's shoulders.
On the way home, she mutters under her breath, “What a birthday. I still can't believe you didn't call me.” Emily gives me a quick, disapproving glance.
“How does it feel to be twenty-three?” I ask, ignoring her comment.
