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The further we walk from the main entrance, the stronger the chemical smell becomes. I don’t have to describe the scent because you know exactly what I’m talking about: the signature hospital aroma. Soul crushing with a dash of despair thrown in for good measure.
“I see his room!” Stella races out of the elevator, dodging walkers and nurses at every turn. Skidding to a halt in front of the white door, Stella stands on her tip toes to peer inside the small rectangular window. Trip and I catch up just as she lets out a sob.
Trip wraps her roommate into a tight hug while I take a peek. My throat tightens as I take in the outline of my captain lying on the bed, face covered with an oxygen mask, tubes hooked up to beeping machines. I exhale through my nose, willingly myself to become the leader these girls need me to be.
I turn and face the duo, noting Stella’s inability to get control of herself. Lost in Trip’s embrace, she seems to be fighting and losing an inner battle as tears soak through Trip’s Green Day t-shirt. I quickly make an executive decision.
“Stella, let me call your brother and get him to take you girls home. There’s nothing you can do for Cody, and he wouldn’t want this for you.” The platinum pixie lifts her head just enough so I can see her glare.
“How do you know what Cody would want?” I sigh, readying myself to go head-to-head with another O’Brien. Two in one day, that’s pretty impressive if I do say so myself.
“You’re right. I don’t know what Cody would want. But I doknow he would hate to see you so distressed. He would want to make sure you’re taken care of, so please, Stella. Let me call your brother.” Swollen, bloodshot eyes meet mine. Stella’s small frame looks so fragile in Trip’s arms.
“Okay.” It takes me a second to register the agreement. Trip’s misty gaze meets mine in astonishment, as if she’s struggling to believe her stubborn roommate gave in so easily as well. I hold out my hand and after a moment’s hesitation, Stella unwinds herself from Trip’s embrace, handing me her phone.
I immediately step away in case she changes her mind and goes full attack-mode. I pull up Mo’s contact and take a deep breath. This is going to be ugly.
“Stel? Hey, I know you’re angry, but I just want to say…” I swiftly cut him off before any sibling bonding has the chance to occur, “It’s Wes.”
The pause at the end of the line tells me the message was received.
“I need you to come pick up Trip and Stella. We’re at the hospital and it’s not looking good. Cody’s in rough shape and your sister is not doing well.” I wait for the I-told-you-so to drop. He had wanted to take his sister home to rest in the first place.
“You’re at St. Catherine’s?” I nod, unable to sit still even though he can’t see me.
“Yes, we are.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.” Mo hangs up and I stare at the cracked screen in my hand. He didn’t mention anything about being right, or our fight for that matter, his sister was top priority.
Now I know where Cody gets it from.
Lou
Silence. Tense, nail-biting silence. That sums up the car ride home.
The O’Brien siblings didn’t say a single word to each other the whole drive home, so I entertained myself with the sleek interior of Mo’s new Cadillac Escalade. I don’t know what Stella’s brother does for work, but whatever it is, it must pay really well. I can practically smell the cost of theses buttery leather seats, and it’s not in the single digits.
If I were to compare Wes’ car to a functioning escalator, one that creaks but still performs its basic function of moving people from one place to another then Mo’s vehicle would be the VIP, luxury elevator. The one that only the most prestigious can use, with its own private butler who presses the floor number button for you. Same function, different league.
Sorry, Lola.
As soon as Mo pulls to a stop, Stella leaps out of the vehicle, slamming the door in her wake. I try a more civilized approach with a mumbled thank you and hasty scramble to follow my roommate into our resident building.
Entering our dorm with a swipe of my access card, our ancient sofas and TV greet us as if nothing has changed. As if Cody isn’t lying in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of him. As if Stella hasn’t been hiding a secret from me this whole semester.
The latter thought hurts just as much as the former. Stella called me her sister, she told me we were family. Yet, she never once opened up about her mother, about her avoidance of alcohol, or about the fact she has trouble sleeping. I had to uncover each one for myself.
My gut clenches painfully as I think about all the times I came to Stella for advice. She always pushed for the details of mystruggles, never once offered up any of her own.
My sadness quickly turns to frustration and tears prick the back of my eyes. I duck my head to hide the emotions threatening to overspill.
“Lou, I…” Stella’s voice trails off and I raise my head to look at my roommate. Her face paint has all but smeared off, her mascara in raccoon circles around her bloodshot eyes. Her normally perfect hair is in a chaotic ball of frizz, and there seems to be a light trail of snot running from her nose to her upper lip. My heart aches in sympathy, and I find myself stomping down my own tidal wave of emotions.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. We both need a good night’s sleep, then we can talk in the morning, okay?” My roommate nods and lets me lead her to the bathroom where I patiently brush the knots from her hair and clean her face.
“Thank you,” Stella whispers the words as I wipe the last of the orange from her face and some of my anger drifts away. No matter what secrets Stella is keeping from me, that doesn’t change the fact she has taken care of me all semester. And as silly as it sounds, it feels nice to know my strong roommate sometimes needs me to be the supporting figure.
Wrapping my arms around the girl before me, I squeeze her tightly, whispering softly in her ear, “You’re my sister, Stella. And family doesn’t abandon family.”
