Later that night, I was staring up at the ceiling, trying to get to sleep, but my thoughts kept drifting to the boy sharing my room.
"Hey, Emmy." I heard Charlie say from across the room. I looked across the room at the boy with chocolate-colored hair, surprised that he was still awake.
"Yeah?" I asked softly, and heard a chuckle. "What?" I protested, a small grin plastering itself onto my lips.
"Nothing. I'm a bit surprised that you're up is all."
"I can't sleep. It's weird being in a hospital."
"Yeah," came his reply, and I heard some shuffling before a dark figure appeared before me. "C'mere," he said, holding out a hand. I stood up and grabbed it.
"Where are we going exactly?" I asked as he started to walk. We didn't go far, just the corner of the room where the small couch was.
"Not far," he said, sitting down.
"Why are we sitting here?" I said softly, sitting down at the opposite end of the couch.
"Because. If we're going to be sharing a room for who knows how long, we should know each other."
"Point made," I laughed, turning to look at him more.
"Now, ask me something."
"Um, favorite color?" I asked, my cheeks turning a bit red.
"Black. You?"
"Teal. Um, do you like to read?"
"Yes. Such boring questions," he laughed.
"Oh. Sorry," I trailed off.
"Don't be sorry. I'll ask, okay?" Charlie said, and I nodded, glad that he had offered. "If you could visit one place in the entire world, where would it be?"
"London," I answered immediately. "Without a doubt. What about you?"
"I'm not really sure. There's so many places I'd like to visit."
"Oh," I said, and our conversation trailed off into awkwardness again.
"Tell me about you, Emmy." I shrugged, not sure what to say.
"I'm very much ordinary. There's not much to say about me." I could just barely make out Charlie rolling his eyes.
"As if I'd believe that. What do you like to do in your spare time?"
"I love to listen to music, that's like my favorite thing. And I like watching TV. But I'm really quite boring."
"Nah. Not really."
"What about you?" I asked, scooting a little closer to him.
"I like to listen to music, and I play hockey a lot. That's where the fractured knee comes from."
"That sounds like it really hurt. So, are you good at hockey?"
"Yeah, I'd say so. Captain of the team."
"Oooh, impressive," I laugh, and his laughter joins in.
"Good. You were supposed to be."
"But a fractured knee? That sounds as if it really hurts."
"Yeah, but it's not too bad. I shouldn't have to stay in the hospital for much longer. But does a fractured knee sound worse than a car crash?" I lifted the arm that was covered in a cast.
"Well, there's this. But other than that, I feel pretty good."
"So, your broken arm was the only thing that happened?"
"Um, no, not really."
"Care to elaborate on that at all?" Charlie asked me.
"I'd really rather not," I said, holding back a yawn. It was at this point that I realized that Charlie and I had unconsciously scooted even closer than we were before.
"Tired, Emmy?" Charlie asked, and I nodded. "Then you should probably get to bed."
"Okay," I mumbled. Too tired to get up and walk to my bed, I simply leaned my head on Charlie's shoulder and shut my eyes.
"Goodnight, Eminem," Charlie whispered. I laughed tiredly and tried to protest, but I was too tired to open my mouth.
