White Noise (The Inadequate Experiments 1)

4. Psychosomatic

Calliope

I swung my legs over the side of the hospital bed, ignoring the pain that shot through my right thigh. My legs dangled in the air; my feet were still inches from the ground. I rolled my eyes. Why did they have to make this so hard for me? I shuffled forward until I was barely sitting on the bed anymore so the tips of my toes reached the laminate floor. I stretched my left leg until my foot was planted firmly, but cried out in pain as I tried to do the same with my right. The door to my room slammed open at my cry, and Oliver rushed over to me.

"What on earth are you doing?" He scolded, steadying me. "You should be resting."

I shot him a look. "I did enough resting when I was unconscious for four days! It's been a week. I'm sick of staring at the same four walls! I'm sick of crappy hospital food! And most of all, I'm sick of these piece of shit bandages. I need to get out of here, Oliver."

He sighed and helped me down off the bed. He steadied me with a cold hand on my left shoulder. "Fine," he mumbled, "but don't go off on your own. Get me next time, and I'll help you."

"You're one to talk. Your hands are cold and your coat smells like smoke. Where have you been?" I asked as he placed my hand on the bed so I could support myself, and crossed the room to get the wheelchair that had been left for me. He carefully helped me into it.

"I went to the theatre." He said simply, pain an undertone in his voice.

I tried to wheel myself forward then gave up. The strain on my right arm was too much. "How was it?" I asked him.

"Nostalgic."

I rolled my eyes. "Theatres always are."

He moved behind me and started manoeuvring me out of the room and down the corridor. "The foyer is completely decimated. I'm guessing with the damage you took, that's probably where you were. The back wall of the auditorium was blown out, and the back row of seats took a lot of damage. But aside from that, the auditorium and backstage are all relatively fine."

"Ah," I said, "all the expensive bits are safe. Dad didn't even need to be worried."

"Not quite, some of the lanterns on the front-of-house Lx bars blew when the power failed before the explosion." Oliver corrected.

I whistled. "How many globes?"

There was a pause.

"Eight."

"From the PAR Cans?" I asked, referring to some cheap stage lights.

"...From the Profiles and Fresnels."

I cursed. Those were the expensive ones. "Okay, now I understand part of Dad's frustration."

Oliver turned a corner and the hallway opened up into a food hall.

I gasped. "Is that... real food?"

He laughed. "Don't tell mum. I tried bringing you doughnuts the other day, but she insisted you only eat the hospital food."

"Why on earth would she say that?" I asked incredulously, mourning the doughnuts I was never given.

"She thinks you'll heal faster."

I scoffed. "Yeah, cause they totally lace the hospital food with their magical healing powers."

Oliver laughed again. "Come on then, what do you want?"

"Nothing healthy. I have been starved of cake and doughnuts long enough."

* * *

I strained my neck to look around, singling out every face in the food hall. There were at least a hundred. None of them were Oliver. I had always had good skills when it came to looking for things or processing a large amount of information at the same time. It wasn't until one day that Josh called me a freak that I realised it wasn't normal. My eyes flicked through the crowd once more. Oliver still wasn't there.