Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I do as she says, chewing and swallowing my food. This continues until everything on my tray is gone. She sits down and pulls out a book from somewhere under my bed or on the stand where the machines sit, still monitoring my life.
“I was reading to you earlier, do you remember?”
I shake my head. “Mom, what do you know about Kyle?”
She sets the book in her lap and folds her hands. So damn prim and proper all the time. “Honestly, not much. From what the police have said, you met him at the football game and he asked you out.”
“How did I meet him?”
“What do you remember of that day, Peyton?”
“Not much, and I’m starting to wonder if the things I do remember actually happened.”
“Like what?”
“First tell me about Kyle and how I met him,” I plead.
“Professor Fowler gave you an assignment. You were to write an article about the game, but you had press credentials to be on the field. According to Kyle, he almost hit you with the football and you said some smart ass remark back to him.”
I close my eyes and search my memory bank for any sign but come up blank. “I can’t believe I don’t remember being on the field. It must’ve been a dream come true.”
“Peyton, honey, I’m sure it’ll happen again. Once you’ve recovered, you’ll have another opportunity. Now, why don’t you rest a little and let me read you some more of this story?” I lean my head back and start listening to the sound of her voice. The words she reads really aren’t making much sense, but I love hearing her talk. Every so often, she pauses and looks up. Her smile is the widest I’ve seen in a long time. Mom places her hand on top of my fingers and squeezes them gently. We really can’t hold hands because of all the tubes so this is as good as it’s going to get.
The book she’s reading is unfamiliar, but the story seems to trigger something in my mind. “I met Grandma Gracie.”
Mom pauses, but she doesn’t look up. “Grandma died before you were born, honey.”
“I know, but I met her, while I was… I saw Dad too.”
“Peyton, I’m sure you were dreaming. You’re on some pretty heavy drugs and the nurses say they can cause hallucinations.” She starts reading again, but I need her to believe me.
“I wasn’t hallucinating. Dad and I were in the same room, and he looks exactly the same as the pictures I have.”
“Of course he looks the same as the pictures, it’s all you remember.”
“He told me he’d be there to help me, that he’s always watching over Elle and I.”
“Peyton, that’s enough.” Mom slams her book shut and immediately pinches the bridge of her nose, a sign she has an impending headache. “It’s the drugs, nothing more.”
“I almost died, Mom.”
“But you didn’t. You survived and you’re here, with us. Your family is here and I promise, we’re not going to let anything happen to you.” She doesn’t say anything else as she opens her book again and starts reading. I close my eyes and think about the images of my grandmother and father. They seem so clear and present in my mind. I want my mom to believe me, but I’m not even sure myself.
At some point I must doze off because when I wake again, my dad is sitting in the chair, playing on his phone.
“I miss my phone,” I say groggily.
He leans forward and kisses me on my cheek, careful not to get anywhere near my head wound. Most of the damage was done to my right side, except for the missing chunk of scalp I now have. My long hair has been sheared on one side, giving me some emo look that I’m not fond of.
“Nice nap?”
I smile and nod. “I guess. Although I’m always tired.”
“It’s the medicine.”
“So I’ve heard. What am I missing in the world?” I ask, nodding toward his phone.
He turns it around and shows it to me. “I’m chatting with JD about the construction on the house.”
“They’re building?”
Dad shakes his head. “No, we’re putting in a temporary ramp for when you come home.”
“Oh.” I look down at my leg and that’s when it hits me. I don’t get to return to my sorority or stay in Chicago. I can’t walk because of my leg, and I can’t use crutches because of my arm. I’ll be in a wheelchair until who knows how long. Tears stream down my face and my dad is there to wipe them away.
“Don’t cry, baby girl. It’s going to be okay.”
I shake my head. “But it’s not. I’m damaged and broken. Nothing will ever be the same.”
“You know that isn’t true, sweet pea. Your uncle Xander is the best out there and he’s going to make sure that you’re back at school in the fall. Your mom and I have already met with your professors and because of the circumstances, they’re letting you finish out the year this summer. You can take courses over the internet.”