Chronically, Me

Two

Emerson

Emerson sighed deeply, his lips dropping into a tight line as his friends left the room.

Since morning, people came rushing in with concern on their faces. He didn't mind it at first. In truth, he felt grateful that people cared about him. Until he hit a point where it started to irk him. But he didn't let it show on his face.

All-day long, he had a huge smile on his face as reassured away the worry of the people. At one point, he wondered about how ironic it was that he was reassuring others who didn't have their leg injured.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind as exhaustion nagged at him. He grabbed the food tray that was on the table beside his bed. He chewed on the cold food quietly.

He remembered the first day he had taken a bite of the hospital food. There was no taste at all. He had feared that he might have been munching on air.

But after five days, anyone was bound to get used to unusual stuff. Be it the bland food or his injury.

I plead the Fifth on the latter but you do you.

His phone vibrated beside him. Still nibbling on his food, he replied to the messages. That's when he heard a small squeak as the door pushed open. He checked the time. Usually, the girl from the magazine committee visited him at this hour.

He looked up, expecting her but bristled slightly when an unfamiliar person stood in front of him.

Her dark hair looked unruly in its ponytail as if she had forced the strands into it at the last minute. Her round frame of glasses almost covered half of her face.

It took him a few seconds to recognize her. She was in a few classes with him. But his brain was working way too slowly to remember her name.

He didn't notice he was still staring at her like a creep until she cleared her throat.

She was holding out a flower towards him. It was a tulip.

Slightly bemused, he took it. "Thank you."

"The florist nearby ran out of stuff," she explained. "Now I think I know why."

Emerson followed her line of vision. It lead towards the many bouquets piled on top of the table. The variety of flowers together wafted a complex scent that filled the room. He didn't mind it though.

"What's your name?"

"Why flowers?"

They both smiled at that.

"I will go first." the girl volunteered. "I am here in place of Mia. My name's Drew."

"Is she alright?" He hoped that the smile he had been mastering for five days was on his face.

He gestured for her to take a seat. As she walked over to the small couch across the room, he noticed that her posture looked a bit stiff.

"She is fine. Due to some issues, she can't proceed with this article. So I took the job."

He nodded, slowly processing it. He remembered the day Bailey had asked his help for the article. He had agreed with no doubt on his mind. But this was before the game. Before he started to feel a bit lost.

Stop with the sappy thoughts, idiot. You're fine.

"I hope I did not disturb you." she pointed at the tray on his lap.

He pushed the tray away, his appetite was not responding well to this food anyway. "You didn't."

She stared at the tray for a while, noticing how he barely touched his food. He braced himself for the reprimanding. He had been getting it since he hurt his leg.

But it didn't come.

"How long does it take you to finish two granola bars?"

That question was so sudden and bizarre that it almost slapped the soul out of him. "What?"

Instead of repeating herself, she just waved two granola bars in the air.