It Doesn't Even Matter

I'm not going to sugarcoat this

Mom doesn't come to the hospital like the EMT said she would. Mark does. He left work early and says mom's too emotional to come face all of this. I wasn't really expecting her to come, so why does it hurt so bad that she's not here? After the ride over they take us to the lobby to wait and I wonder why they made me come at all if they didn't think it was an emergency. I shouldn't have agreed. Part of it was out of spite to Mom.

None of us are saying anything while we wait. I think Mark and Drew don't know how to handle me. They must think I'm too unstable and will break down if they say the wrong thing. When we first got here Drew gave his dad a look like he wanted to speak to him alone. Mark just grimaced when he saw it and shook his head like now wasn't the right time. "Max." Looking up from the carpet I've been staring down at, we all stand to follow the nurse back into a room quietly. I wish someone would say something, anything to make this nauseous sick feeling of the unknown go away inside me. I wish someone would say it's all going to be ok because even though I wouldn't believe them, it would be a softer blow than the fall to the bottom I'm feeling now.

The nurse closes the door behind us turning and motioning to the chairs for us to sit in when she sees we're all still standing awkwardly. "Hi Max, I'm Sharon. I'll be your nurse today. I'm just going to take your vitals and then Doctor Newman will be right in to see you. Is that ok?" What does she expect me to say? No? What good would that do? They would just insist on it anyway. Why does everyone keep asking me questions today like my answer matters? My heart speeds up in a bad way again and I know she'll notice it too.

"Sure," I say moving to sit on the edge of the examination table. I watch her take and retake my blood pressure three times not saying anything. I'm sure it's too high. But she doesn't take it a fourth time and just smiles up at me with a soft phony look that I'm really starting to get sick of.

"Is everything looking ok?" It's Mark who finally asks like it's not obvious enough that it isn't. I want to roll my eyes. But I'm pretty sure my laughing earlier already has them concerned enough without me bringing an attitude and getting myself in even more trouble.

"Doctor Newman can go over everything with you shortly. He'll be in in just a minute." She says closing the door behind her and leaving us in the terrible consuming quiet again. I can't take any more eggshells.

"Sorry I freaked you guys out," I say clearing my throat awkwardly. "Especially you Drew. But I'm ok really, there's nothing to worry about. This just sort of happens sometimes." I instantly regret saying the last part as I watch their faces drop and then harden.

"Max, you almost got hit by a fucking car!" Drew lets out frustrated. I had?

"Oh." Drew doesn't seem impressed by my lack of response so I try again to ease the tension. "Guess I forgot to look both ways before crossing the street."

"Jesus Christ this isn't fucking funny, there's something seriously wrong with you! I think you're fucked in the he-"

"DREW!" It's a sharp cut off from Mark but I've heard him and his words sink into a place I try not to let myself show. A very dark place in the back of my head where I keep the truth I already know. A place that makes me feel very frightened and abandoned. "That's enough. There's nothing wrong with you Max....." Mark trails off his sentence leaving the ending blank because he's not sure how to say that there actually is something wrong with me nicely. Just tell me that everything will be ok. Please, somebody just tell me that lie.

"It's ok. It-" I'm not sure how to finish my own sentence so I go back to looking at the ground and we sit in silence again. It's another long uncomfortable five minutes of shifting my eyes between the clock and the tiles before the door opens behind me.