Should I Stay?

Chapter 11

He's here.

I have been hanging out in an empty hospital room in the maternity ward, wanting to be far away from my relatives and even farther away from the ICU and that nurse, or more specifically what that nurse said and what I now understand.

I needed to be somewhere where people wouldn't be sad, where the thoughts concerned life, not death. So I came here, in the land of screaming babies. They have so much fight in them already.

But it's quiet in this room now. So I'm sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the night.

A car screeches into the parking garage, shaking me out of my daydream. I peer down in time to catch a glimpse of a pink car disappear into the darkness. Sarah, who is dating Josh, The White Eskimo's drummer, has a pink car. I hold my breath, waiting for Harry to appear out of the tunnel.

And then he's here, walking up the ramp, hugging his leather jacket against the winter night. He stops, turns around to talk to someone behind him. I see the soft figures of thee boys emerge from the shadows. At first I thought it were his bandmates, until I saw their familiar faces.

I wish I could hug them. To thank them for always being one step ahead of what I need.

Of course Liam, Niall and Zayn would go to Harry, to tell him in person instead of breaking the news over the phone, and then to bring him here, to me.

It was Niall who knew that Harry was playing a show in Cardiff. Niall must have somehow managed to flatter Liam or Zayn into driving downtown. I remember how it took the boys two months to get permission to take that helicopter flight with Simon, so I'm impressed that they managed this within the space of a few hours. It was Zayn who must have braved any number of intimidating bouncers and hipsters to find Harry. And Liam who must have braved telling Harry about me.

I know this sounds ridiculous, but I'm glad it wasn't me. I don't think I could have done it.

And now, because of them, he is finally here.

All day long, I've been imagining Harry's arrival, and in my fantasy, I rush to greet him, even though he can't see me and even though, from what I can tell so far, it's nothing like that movie Ghost, where you can walk through your loved ones so that they feel your presence.

But now that Harry is here, I'm paralyzed. I'm scared to see him. To see his face.

I've seen Harry cry twice. Once when we watched The Lion King. And another time when we were in the train station in Oxford and we saw a mother yelling and cursing at her son who had Down Syndrome. He just got quiet and it was only when we were walking away that I saw the tears rolling down his cheeks. And it tore my heart out. If he is crying, it will kill me.

I'm such a loser, I know.

I look at the clock on the wall. It's past seven now.

The White Eskimo's will not be opening for Little Mix after all. Which is a shame. It was a huge break for them.

For a second, I wonder if the rest of the band will go on without Harry. I highly doubt it, though. It's not just that he is the lead singer and the lead guitar player. The band has this kind of code. Loyalty to feelings is important. Last summer, when Josh and Sarah broke up (for what turned out to be all of a month) and Josh was too distraught to play, they canceled their five-night tour, even though this guy Danny who plays drums in another band offered to sub for him

I watch Harry make his way to the hospital's main entrance, Liam, Niall and Zayn trailing behind him. Just before he comes to the automatic doors, he looks up into the sky. He is waiting for Zayn, but I also like to think he's looking for me. His face, is blank, like someone took away all his personality, leaving only a mask. He doesn't look like him. But at least he's not crying.

That gives me the guts to go to him now. Or rather to me, to the ICU, which is where I know he'll go. Harry knows Gran and Gramps and the cousins, and I imagine he'll join the waiting-room later. But right now he's here for me.

Back in the ICU time stands still as always. One of the surgeons who worked on me earlier -the one who sweated a lot- is checking in on me.

The lights were dimed and the machines were off. It is less frenetic than it was during the day, like the nurses and machines are all a little tired.

So when Harry's voice shouts from the hallway outside the ICU, it really wakes everyone up.

''What do you mean I can't go in?'' he booms angry.

I make my way across the ICU, standing just on the other side of the automatic doors. I hear the nurce outside explain to Harry that he is not allowed in this part of the hospital.

''This is bullshit!'' Harry yells.

Inside, all the nurses look toward the door, their heavy eyes on Harry. I am pretty sure they're thinking: Don't we have enough to deal with inside without having to calm down crazy people outside? I want explain to them that Harry isn't crazy. That he never yells, except for very special occasions.

The graying middle-aged nurce who doesn't attend to the patients but sits by and monitors the computers and phones, gives a little nod and stands up as if accepting a nomination. She straightens her white pants and makes her way toward the door.

She's really not the best one to talk to him. I wish I could warn them that they have to send the nurce who reassured my grandparents (and freaked me out). She'd be able to calm him down. But this one is only going to make it worse.

I follow her through the double doors where Harry, Zayn, Liam and Niall are arguing with the nurce. They look angry at the nurse.

''I told them they're not authorized to be up here,'' she explains. The nurse dismisses her with the wave of a hand.

''Can I help you, young man?" she asks Harry. Her voice sounds irritated and impatient, like one of those teachers who is always irritated and when you only breath, they blow up like a bom.

Harry clears his throat, attempting to pull himself together. ''I'd like to visit a patient,'' he says, gesturing toward the doors blocking him from the ICU.

''I'm afraid that's not possible,'' she replies.

''But my girlfriend, Lucy, she's-''

''She's being well cared for,'' the nurse interrupts. She sounds tired, too tired for sympathy, too tired to be moved by young love.

''I understand that. And I'm grateful for it,'' Harry says. He's trying his best to play by her rules, to sound mature, but I hear the catch in his voice when he says: ''I really need to see her.''

''I'm sorry, young man, but visitations are restricted to immediate family.''

I hear all of the boys gasp. Immediate family. The nurse doesn't mean to be cruel. She's just clueless, but they won't know that. I feel the need to protect them and to protect the nurse from what Harry, Zaynor Niall might do to her.

I reach for the boys, on instinct, even though I cannot really touch them. But their backs are to me now.

Niall, who was hovering near the wall, is suddenly at Harry's side. He turns to the nurse, his eyes blazing with fury. ''You don't understand!'' he cries.

''Do I need to call security?'' the nurse asks.

Harry waves his hand, surrendering to the nurse, to Niall.

''Don't,'' he whispers to Niall.