Two days. Two days and 12 hours since Joji went into his coma. I never left his side. I only left to use the bathroom or eat. I went to rundown restaurants where the customers didn't judge me. Max visited and called to plead for me to come back home. But no, I wouldn't. Never. I checked up on Joji's Twitter. There were millions of DMs and tweets asking if Joji was ok. I answered as much as possible. I even took a pic of Joji and posted it. All Ian ever got in his fanmail was cards and presents for Joji. I sat and cried forever it seemed, wanting him back. Then Max came to visit.
"Hey, y/n. I need to tell you something." Max said, sitting down next to me. I stared at Joji's face, squeezing his hand. I always did this, waiting for him to squeeze my hand back, like in the cliché movies. "Y/n, we are leaving the beach and heading home tomorrow. Joji is going to be transported back home to us. Now c'mon, let's go home and pack." I shook my head. "No." Max sighed and pulled me from Joji. "Let goooo Max!" I shrieked. I kicked and cried, pushing him away. "We need to let go and move on with our lives! He will wake up when he does! Don't you understand?! Now come on!" He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the room. I sobbed quietly and let him drag me around the hospital. "Yes, please transport him as soon as possible." Max told a doctor in a calm voice. How could he? Why was he acting so calm? I crossed my arms over my chest and stomped away from him.
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Packing was horrible without Joji. Everything of his I touched I had to stop and smell or just stare at. Max had to help me when he was done. We finally lugged everything into the car and set off to home. Max drove while I sat in the passenger side. Chad and Ian took the other car back, leaving me and Max alone. "Do you even care?" I ask, ripping out my headphones. Max turned to me and furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would you say that? I've actually tried to do something for him, all you do is sit around, waiting for him. He will wake up when he does, don't be so friggin pushy!" He yelled, throwing his hands up. I rolled my eyes, then I swallowed hard. "Max, pull over!" I yelled, clutching my stomach. Max pulled over and I threw open the car door. I leaned down and barfed. I puked out my breakfast and lunch, a small shiver went up my neck as I wiped my mouth. "Are you ok?" Max asked, patting my back. "Yeah." I say, shutting my door.
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Seven restroom breaks, two food breaks, and three more barf breaks. We finally made it home. Max helped me unpack, then I crawled into bed and slept. When I woke up it was early morning. I took a shower and put on a comfortable outfit. I put on running shoes and I went walking. I walked for a long time, I even went to a cafe I've never been to. I walked in, the comfortable smell of coffee and pastries made me loosen up. I walked to the counter and cleared my throat to grab the attention of the barista. It was a nice looking man with a white apron and an even whiter smile. "What can I get you?" He asked, flashing his perfect teeth. "Uhh, a caramel frappe I guess." I say nervously. He taps on his little machine and then smiles up at me. "Three thirty-five." I dig into my purse and pull out a five. "Keep the change." I say, pulling on my shirt. He nods and yells in the most sweetest way at the other workers. His black swooshed hair droops over his ocean eyes a bit. He has thin lips that get thinner when he flashes that smile. I smile at him, as he hands me the drink. I take the drink and hand the receipt to him. "I don't need this." I explain, but he pushes my hand away slightly. "Oh I think you'd like to keep it." He grins at me and turns to the next customer. I nod curiously and walk to a table. I take a sip of the steamy coffee. Mmmm. I gently unfold the receipt, studying it. At the bottom is a hastily scribbled phone number. I crumple the paper but stick it into my pocket. I rub my forehead and stand up, walking out.
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"I miss you a lot, you know." I say, picking at my nails. "And, when I dream about the forest, it's not the same." I stare at my hand in his. "When you're not here, I get asked for my number a lot. I hate that. I wish I could hold your hand in public, so people knew. They just assume I'm just some girl who's single and has an easy going life and...." My voice trails off. I sigh and start again. "And the most horrible thing is... When I hug you, you smell like hospital, not that cheap cologne that I like." I smirk as I think about it, but my smile droops as my eyes land on his emotionless face. "Joji, please come back to me. Please?" I stood up, my hand slipping from his. I lean down and give him a hug, taking in his hospital aroma. I frown as I pull away, patting his shoulder. "See ya tomorrow." I walk out of the hospital. Tears streak my pale face as I lay on my bed. I still have the rest of the day off and then my vacation ends tomorrow.
I walk to Max to see what he is doing. Ian is laying on the couch, a beer bottle meets his lips now and then. Max does the same, stuffing chips into his mouth and laughing with Ian. I decide to stick behind to eavesdrop.
"Dude, when did the doctor say Joji was gonna wake up?" Ian asked, he stared at Max, waiting for his answer. Max sat back, sighing. "Way too long! She said like at least a year or something. I could never tell y/n, she'll be heartbroken." Ian nods and takes a long gulp of beer. I stare at Max, wide eyed and confused. The blood seems to rush to my head and I feel like fainting. My leg collapses from under me and I fall. The boys turn their heads, staring at me. Max rushes to my side, pulling me up slowly. "I'm okay."
I say, nodding. My vision gets blurry as tears form.
"Are you sure? What happened?" I ignore his question, looking into Max's eyes.
"Is it true?"
"What?"
"Is. It....true?"
"Oh, uh did you...hear?"
"Yes I did, is it true?'
Max looks away, I grasp his arm, waiting for an answer I'm afraid I already know.
"I'm sorry, y/n. I'm so sorry." Tears come, one by one, filling the empty, empty hole. The hole gushes, it overflows. When will it stop spilling? No one knows. It's something I've read before, and it fits it perfectly, so I think these words over and over, wailing into Max's shirt. My chest hurts from heart ache, my eyes hurt from crying. The words race faster and faster until they are nothing. I pull away, sniffling. I run into my room and lock the door. I'm never coming out.
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Sorry I didn't write this sooner. Honestly my life is like trying to grab a pile of laundry in one go and a shirt falls so you try to pick it up, then a sock falls and so forth. Ugh. My best friends dad might go blind and yeah, pray for him please. Sorry for any grammar mistakes. Hope you enjoy!
