Constant

Chapter 17

The surgery went well—at least that's what they told me. The night after the surgery, I lay awake in the darkness, staring at the window and the night sky, where the stars twinkled and danced. I was glad I couldn't see the moon. I would never look at the moon the same way again. A sliver of light lit up the room, and I turned my head just in time to see a shadowy figure move inside, quickly closing the door. If this had been any other time, I would have cried out in fright, but I was too doped up to care. Now I was seeing things, apparently.

"Scarecrow, you awake?"

My eyes widened.

"Ben?" I asked.

He stepped closer to the bed, and I could just barely make out his face. I reached to turn on the bedside lamp, enveloping us in a soft glow of light. He had a small cut over his left eyebrow.

"Mom told me to leave you alone, but you know... I had to see the damage myself," he said, looking at my cast. "That... how is that?" He nodded toward my cast.

"Why do you care?" I asked. "I'm even more of a scarecrow now."

He grimaced. "I did this," he said. "Of course I care."

"About what, exactly? Whether I will press charges or sue you?"

"C'mon, I'm trying to do the right thing here by coming by and..." He trailed off with a tired sigh, plopping down on the plastic chair next to me. We stared at each other in silence, before he continued. "I can't sleep for shit. Every time I close my eyes, I see your body fly over the hood of my car."

"I didn't do it on purpose," I said, prepared to defend myself once again.

"Oh, I know," he said. "I was there, I saw what happened. Joyce believes you jumped, but I don't. I know what happened. And I can't get the image out of my head." He closed his eyes, but opened them quickly again, as if the image assaulted him. I wondered what exactly the accident had looked from the perspective of others. Had it really looked like I jumped? "What's with that boyfriend of yours? He's a douche," he asked, surprising me with the direct question.

I wanted to snort. Takes one to know one.

"He's not my boyfriend," I replied. "Not that it's any business of yours."

"Why are you always so damn angry?" he asked. "I'm trying to be all nice and shit and you're just... bitchy."

I sighed, knowing he was right.

"Life just sucks, you know?" I mumbled, looking away. "Besides, you're not known to being friendly with me anyway, so don't be a hypocrite."

He huffed in response, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. "Is it okay if I stay here for a while?"

"Yeah, that's fine, I guess," I replied, half-shrugging. "If that's what I can do to be considered nice."

He smirked. "You might need to work a little on it, but you'll get there."

"Geez, thanks," I muttered, turning my head away from him and closing my eyes. Despite all the drugs in my system for the pain and surgery, I was too alert to fall asleep. I glanced at Ben, who had his eyes closed.

"Why did you come here?" I asked.

"Last resort," he replied, eyes still closed. "Joyce hates me, Ty won't talk to me, and my parents are giving me shit. So..."

"Those were your only options?" I asked in disbelief. "I thought you were like the king of the school."

"Being a king means there are always people out for your throne, and showing up vulnerable is not a look I want to put out there," he replied, peering at me with one eye. "And before you ask, I know you're not out to get my throne. Because I could end you without even trying."