Saving Sawyer | ✓

Chapter 27 | I Can't Think Right Now

Chapter 27 | I Can't Think Right Now

(unedited bc it's 5:30 a.m. and I haven't been to sleep bc insomnia)

“Life is pain. Anyone who says differently is selling something.” — The Princess Bride

“I-is it alright if I call you back in just a few seconds?” I ask Graham with a small sniffle, glancing up from the carpeted floor and over at Dr. Westbourne, who’s looking around the waiting room, waiting for someone to step forward. “A doctor just walked in and she’s asking who’s here with Jackson,” I explain.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Graham assures me, sounding relieved that he’s about to get some information on his brother’s condition. “After you’re done talking to her, just call me back and let me know what’s going on with J, okay? We’re getting off on an exit now, so we’ll be back there in a few hours,” He says.

“Okay,” I reply, using my free hand to wipe a few tears away from my face as I stand up from the floor. “I’m really, really, really sorry, Graham,” I apologize.

“Sawyer, stop apologizing,” He says with a small sigh. “I promise you that I’m not mad at you, okay? I know that it wasn’t your fault and you have to stop beating yourself up over it. I’m sure it could have been so much worse, so I’m just glad you’re alright and hopefully Jackson will be too. I love you, okay?”

“I love you too, Graham,” I whisper, mostly because I don’t really trust my voice right now. I’m trying really hard to not cry because I don’t want the doctor to see me crying, but it’s just not working out for me. “I’ll call you right back,” I promise him in the same whisper before saying goodbye and hanging up, slipping my phone down into the pocket of my jeans and making my way over to Dr. Westbourne.

“Sawyer?” She asks, clearly surprised to see me. I mean, I do work here, but I’m never really here in the waiting room area. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I’m with Jackson Cambridge,” I hiccup, running my fingers through my hair and fighting to keep tears back. “Is he alright? Please tell me he’s alright.”

“You’re with Jackson?” Dr. Westbourne questions, flipping through the papers on the clipboard that she’s holding. “Are you two related?” She asks me.

“No, but he’s my boyfriend’s little brother,” I tell her. “He’s out of town and I’m babysitting for him,” I explain. “He’s okay, right? Please let him be okay.”

“Wait a minute, were you the one driving?” She asks, looking up from her clipboard at me. “I didn’t see your name in the system—have you been seen?”

“I-I was driving,” I confirm with nod. “I refused treatment though,” I tell get, getting a little bit annoyed by the fact that she isn’t answering my question. “But I’m fine,” I assure Dr. Westbourne, noticing the worried look on her face “Jackson’s the one that’s important right now so please tell me if he’s okay.”

“Sawyer,” Dr. Westbourne says, trying to calm me down, because I guess I look like I’m about to freak out and maybe have a mental breakdown, which is very possible at this point. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I don’t handle stressful situations very well at all. “Why don’t we go to the Consultation Room?”

“T-the Consultation Room?” I echo, my eyes going wide and my heart skipping a few beats. “B-b-but that’s…t-that’s where doctors take people when they tell them that whoever they’re at the hospital for didn’t make it,” I tell her, even though she obviously already knows that. My work area is only a few feet from the Consultation Room and every time I see a doctor take a family in there, they stay for only a few minutes and then they all come out crying.