One Last Shot

[36] A Sweet Recovery

             Iris

Today is discharge day. I've been in the hospital for about 4 days, and Mom is helping me walk to the car. My torso is all bandaged, and my wrist has a soft cast on it. In the car, Mom drives slowly, carefully not to jolt me and hurt anything. Back at the house, Marcus, Lilly, and Violet have prepared the couch with pillows and blankets.

"Thank you guys," I smile as Mom helps me onto the couch.

"These were also left by Liam," Lilly says, placing a bouquet of irises on the coffee table.

"He's unreal," Violet comments.

"He's just being nice," I wave whatever suspicions they have, only to see Lilly and Violet exchange a look. Bed rest is painful. I'm missing class, doing all the work from home, and everybody's coming and going. I'm bored and I need company.

Me: "I need a study buddy."

Liam: "I don't tutor."

Me: "No, dipshit, I need company while I study. Are you free?"

Liam: "Over in 5." I pull my notebook out, copying the notes from the photos my professor sent me. 5 minutes later, there's a knock at the door.

"It's open!" I call. Liam walks in with his backpack, heading over the couch.

"Need anything? Water?"

"I'm fine, just sit." He sits down next to me, picking my legs up and putting them over his lap so we're close but I'm still laying in a comfortable position.

"Your family left?"

"Yeah, they can only be away from work for so long."

"And your roommates?"

"Violet picked up a shift, Lilly and Thomas have a date night, and Marcus is at class."

"So you're home alone."

"No, you're here," I smile, turning my attention back to my notes. With Liam here, with really any company here, I finish and can focus better. After about an hour of silence as we both work, I look up. His hair is falling in front of his face as he looks down at a paper. I sit up slowly, reaching over and ruffling his hair.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"Your hair is in your face," I say nonchalantly, leaning back down. He looks at me with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Don't move like that, you could hurt yourself."

"I'm not fragile, I'm not a doll."

"You're on bed rest, you had glass in your side, you're a little fragile."

"I don't need to be babied though."

"But you need to be taken care of."

"You're going to take care of me?" I cock an eyebrow.

"All your friends, including me, will."

"Okay," I give him an annoyed look. "What are you studying?"

"American History."

"What are you, 15?"

"No, it's a good class to take before law school. Sets the foundation for the country, our democracy, and our justice and law system. It's recommended to take in your undergrad on a pre-law track."

"What's your favorite part of history? Probably like WW1 or something."

"No," he laughs, rolling his eyes. "The Roaring 20's."

"Why?"

"It was both good and bad, I find the social culture but also the downturn in economics and politics to be fascinating."