Intersecting Lines

Chapter 8

Less than a month came faster than I thought it would. When I woke up this morning, I found myself looking at Alex's empty bed. I don't know why but I was alarmed not to see him there. I immediately darted my eyes to my bedside table expecting a little note from him but I was disappointed not to find one. I don't know what scares me. The fact that I'm going to face a bigger reality outside of the hospital or the fact that I may start thinking that the small world I had inside this building is actually better than the world I'll be facing outside. The bottom line is; I'm scared. And it's odd because there's nothing to be scared of.

Today is a Monday, and they are currently removing the cast on my left leg. Mom is here with me and she's talking to Dr. Mills. I still have to return every Saturdays and Sundays for therapy. When they finally finished removing the cast, Dr. Mills spoke to me.

"We'll be removing the cast on your right leg after two weeks so you just have to deal with it a little longer." She said and offered me a kind smile. I smile back at her and nodded.

"You could go now. I gave the discharge papers to your mom." She added and I reached for my crutch and limped my way out of the room. Mom was right outside holding a sheet of paper wearing a bright smile. I smile back at her and I gave her a hug.

"I just need to give this to the cashier and pay for the bills. You can sit in the lounge while waiting." Mom told me. But no, I'm not staying at the lounge to wait. I'm going to look for someone.

"Is dad going to pick us up?" I ask her. I haven't seen dad since the accident happened. I know things are going well between him and mom and that the reason why he rarely visited me is because he needs to work over time so we could pay for the bills. Mom nodded and went on her way and I do, too.

I rode the elevator to the rooftop. I'm not sure why I wanted to go to this place but I have the feeling that I'm going to find him here. The elevator dings to a stop and I step out of it. And I was right. He was standing there with his crutch, wearing the pajamas he wore last night. He looked over his shoulder to see who came to the rooftop and smiled when he saw me out of the elevator.

"Hey" I greet him as I make my way to his direction.

"Hey" he greeted me as well. As I got nearer, I can see his eyes are a little swollen and his nose is pinkish. Has he been crying? Is he sick? I ask myself. But I don't hold the answers to these questions. So I ask him directly.

"Are you crying? Your eyes look swollen." I tell him and he shook his head together with a silent laugh.

"No, I'm not crying. I have allergy rhinitis. It's all because of colds." He told me as he sat in one of the benches near us, "So, finally getting discharged?" he asked me with a little bitterness in his voice. I just nod and sat beside him on the bench.

He bit his lower lip and remained silent for a moment before speaking again, "I'm happy for you." He gave me a weak smile then pursed his lips together.

"Thank you" is all I can say. When I woke up earlier this morning without him on his bed, I had a million things to tell him. But now that I'm facing him, all the questions vanished like bubble. So I just ask him this, "Not going to see me off?"

"Of course I'm going to see you off." He immediately answered and smiled at me. Something's off with our conversation today. I mean, we usually stay quiet like this but when we do it before, time seems endless. But right now, time seems to be closing in on us. I feel like if we remain this silent, time is going to be over and there will be a billion words left unsaid and I don't want that to happen.

"Going back to figure skating?" he silently asked me, partially disturbing my thoughts.

"Yeah, it's all I have." I tell him