Permanent in the Stars

3: Aurora

Waking up this morning brought instant pain. "Are you in pain anywhere?" the nurse checking my vitals asks.

I barely even registered her presence. "Everywhere," I groan. She messes with the IV and a coolness runs through my arm, followed by an ease to my body.

Last night, I had the worst sleep of my life. It seemed like every hour I was jolted awake by nightmares of the crash. Being drugged up by pain meds offset a type of anxiety I've never had before. My mom sat in the chair next to the hospital bed, holding the bucket out for me to vomit in; my nerves and the pain made me nauseous and no matter how hard I tried to keep it in, I stayed hunched over. I had cold sweats and it felt like I was dying all over again. I gasped for air, thinking I was having a heart attack and felt embarrassed when they gave me a pill to diminish the panic attack.

My poor parents were looking at me with pity and I hate that I'm causing them so much worry. The stress is written all over their faces. And this morning, their red puffy eyes felt like a punch to my recently fractured ribs.

"How do you feel, Rory?" My mom puts the palm of her hand to my forehead, slicking down the baby hairs framing my face.

"Better," I lie. Even with the drugs, I'm in pain.

"Good." Her face looks fallen, and I know she's about to break bad news. "Dad and I have to leave tonight. We have cases," she explains. When both of your parents are successful lawyers, you learn how to take care of yourself pretty early on. I love my parents, they always made time for me despite their busy schedules. It's the reason why I'm so comfortable being alone, and why I'm so independent, so I like to view it as more of a positive, if anything. It's probably also the reason why I've never been in any sort of romantic situation. I haven't even been in a solid talking stage with a person romantically. Now a 22 year old, I feel like such a loser because of it.

"I figured," I say. And I'll find out how to navigate through this as best I can, I don't worry about it though.

"We'll come pick you up when you're discharged and you can stay at the house until you're recovered." She knows I'll refuse the offer and I'm surprised she'd even ask.

"I can't miss midterms," I say.

"Aurora, you don't have anyone to take care of you here."

"I have myself," I tell her.

"You fractured your ribs and were waking up every hour with panic attacks."

"My ribs will heal and the panic attacks were from the meds. I just won't take them anymore."

"Rory," my dad starts to speak.

"The only difference is that I'd be sleeping with people in the house. If I'm truly dying, I'm sure Tully will call and tell you guys. If it comes down to that, you guys can take me back home," I compromise. Tully is my roommate; we're friendly with each other, but aren't necessarily friends. She's never been anything but nice to me, besides a couple of arguments about dishes, so I think she'd be worried if I was dying in the apartment.

"There's no use arguing with you. You take after your mom and I." My parents are convinced that I'm majoring in environmental science to eventually go into environmental law. I want to be an environmental scientist and research the condition of our world to find ways to save it. I don't want to just talk about it, I want to get my hands dirty and be at the front line. Not to mention public speaking is one of my worst nightmares; I'd hate to have all the eyes on me in such an intense situation.

Before I can respond, there's a knock on the door. My eyes furrow in confusion at the person standing slightly in the room. Oliver barely knows me, why would he come back? In his hand is a makeshift bouquet of wildflowers, tied with a piece of yarn and a book.