For Better or For Worse (Book 2)

You'll Always Find Your Back Home

You can change your mind, that's just the way it goes. You can say goodbye and you can say hello. But you'll always find your way back home. 
—Hannah Montana

We stay in the hospital for way too many days.

We miss way too many days of school.

We drink way too many cups of coffee.

We read way too many magazines.

We have way too many vending machine dinners.

We talk about way too many irrelevant things.

We wait for way too long. But it doesn't mater; we all refuse to leave Shawn alone in the dreary hospital. The seven of us occupy the same seats in the waiting room for three days straight, taking turns sleeping. In the 72 hours, I had a decent conversation with every person, including Leah, who is a lot nicer and funnier than I had hoped.

I don't know why, but I want to dislike her. I want a reason to be rude, to be irritated that she knows all my friends. But she has this way of being shy with such a happy expression, that you can't help but admire her disposition.

She has spent every minute of every hour of every day following Tyler around— wherever he goes, you can find her at his heels or by his side, talking his ear off or helping him do whatever he's doing.

And to some people, that would be annoying as hell, but I don't think I've seen Tyler this happy in months. Not since the beginning of the Shawn Catastrophe. Not since we were all that happy.

If he has to get up from the waiting room, he actually waits for her to go with him, knowing she's going to anyway. Might as well wait so they can walk together.

Tyler's lopsided grin has returned, and surprisingly I'm grateful to and jealous of Leah. As selfish as it seemed, I wanted to be the one to bring it back to Tyler, I wanted to be the one to help him find his old self again.

But Tyler and Leah have seemed to really hit it off and have been inseparable for three days, talking with each other non-stop, playing ice breaker games to get to know each other better.

I don't know why I felt comfortable letting him do it, but I allowed Rixon to take Aaliyah back to their apartment and stay with her. He told me he made up some incredible story that Shawn's a spy and needs his time, and they're living there for now. I trust Rixon, though I don't know when I started having so much faith in him. He texts me every day with updates, and I'm glad to not have to comfort Aaliyah, when I'm the one needing comfort.

Cam and Sierra have also been pretty much inseparable, sticking with each other for everything. I admire their close bond, thinking of Zac, 150 miles away. A pang of sadness hits my heart, but I ignore it, averting my attention to Jack and Nash.

They sit on a couch together, both sound asleep, their heads pressed together. I don't think either of them notices, because they snore gently, as if they have not a care in the world. Their best friend relationship reminds me of how Tyler and Shawn used to be, and again, the thought tugs at my heartstrings.

I rest my head against the wall and look at the scene playing out before me. It's our 76th hour in this dreadful hospital, and everyone seems as exhausted as the next person.

The twins playing a lazy game of cards.

Leah and Tyler both holding up fingers and laughing—who knows what game they're playing.

Nash and Jack both in deep slumbers, enjoying he other's quiet company.

And here I am, sitting across from them all, my heart beating at a slow rhythm. I haven't slept at ALL since Shawn's accident, and it's quickly catching up with me. Dark rings encircle my eyes, and I keep having trouble keeping them open, my eyelids threatening to droop.

My chest stings with the pain of my loneliness, especially having to look at my friends in pairs across from me, each one having a person to comfort them and keep their minds off things.

But I'm alone, and I've been alone for 76 hours. Jack tried to engage me in conversation and Sierra offers for me to join their games, but I deny both suggestions—they're just doing it out of pity for me.

They really don't need me. I'm not an important part of our group anymore, and I don't know when that happened.

Or what made me realize it. But it hurts, that's for damn sure.

I hope Shawn will still need me when he wakes up. They say today's the day, when Shawn will be fully rested from surgery and able to see visitors. He'll be upright in bed, eating, smiling, talking, for the first time in 4 days.

And I can't wait.

I've been holed up here for way too long, we all have. But I have a feeling it's been more traumatizing for me than for anyone else here, for I didn't have anyone to vent to.

And right as I'm feeling sorry for myself, the nurse steps into the room, grinning from ear to ear. "Shawn says y'all better get your asses in there and say hello to him."

I can't help but smile widely. That's my Shawn. Always a fighter.

Everyone gets up, except Tyler, and the nurse's grin fades. She frowns, looking at us all. "Um, Shawn only wants one at a time, and he asked for a specific person first."

We all look at each other, and I go to step forward, not even hesitating. I mean, it can't be anyone else, right?

"He wants to see whoever Tyler is first. He's begging for you."