Against All Odds

Chapter 10

"Let's get you home buddy." Dad smiled, zipping up my duffel bag as I transferred into my wheelchair.

"Yeah, let's go." I wheeled out the door, leaving the four white walls of my hospital room for the last time.

He walked beside me, slowing his pace to match up with mine as we headed down the long hallway, toward the elevators.

"Your mother's spent pretty much all day getting the house ready for you." He smiled, pressing the button on the elevator as we waited.

"Really?" He nodded.

"Mhm, she's making it Cameron-proof." I laughed for the first time in weeks, shaking my head.

The elevator door opened and I wheeled inside, Dad following in behind as I pressed the button for the first floor.

He took the duffel bag from his shoulder, setting it down on the floor for a second, giving his back a break as I rested my hands on my wheels.

"I just pulled the car up front so you don't have to go too far." The doors opened and I exited the elevator, nodding.

"Thanks." Wheeling across a giant parking lot doesn't sound fun at all.

Finally, I pushed my way through the automatic doors, leaving the overwhelming smell of antiseptic behind me. I took a deep breath, the salty air flooding my nostrils.

Sure enough, Dad's black Chevy SUV was pulled up right to the curb. I wheeled up to the passenger door. I'd never thought of how truly massive his car is until now. It practically towered over me and transferring into it from my chair wasn't even a possibility.

"Let me just throw this bag in the trunk and then I'll help you in, Cam." I nodded, my gaze dropping to my lap as my cheeks reddened.

I heard his heavy footsteps approach soon after, picking my head back up as I locked my wheels. He appeared in front of me, opening the car door before lifting me from my chair, into the passenger seat. 

I buckled my seatbelt before leaning over and adjusting my legs as he folded my chair.

"All set?" I nodded and he closed the door, heading back over to the trunk to put my chair in.

Eventually, he got into the car and we began the 12-minute journey back to Cannon Beach.

Unlike practically everyone I've met in this town, I wasn't born here. I was born in Arizona and my parents decided to move us here when I was ten years old—something about wanting to settle down in a more quiet place.

I wouldn't say I hate it here, I mean we're right on the Oregon coast and my house is just a quick 10-minute walk down to the beach. It's absolutely beautiful here but I wouldn't say I love it either, I always dreamed of eventually making it out of here, moving to the city.

The possibility of me getting out of here now is slim to none, at least not for a couple of years, which throws my plan of leaving this place for college completely out the window. I know I'm still a junior but even if I do somehow catch up and graduate on time next year, I don't think my parents would let me go to a city like Portland all by myself. Not with my situation.

We drove along the road that overlooked the ocean, the same road Martin drove us on that day.

I bit my lip and shut my eyes, trying to think of anything but him. That day. If he had a funeral I probably missed it, too busy being trapped in that hospital room.

Being fucking paralyzed.

The more I thought about it, the more I felt like I couldn't breathe. It felt like my throat was closing up, like I'd just swallowed a golf ball. My eyes flew open and I fumbled for the center console, gripping the black leather as hard as I could, my throat desperate for air as I began to hyperventilate. "Cameron?"