A Lesbian Love Story

29

The doctor had concluded that I suffered from depression. And anxiety. But they didn't bother weighing me. I already was prescribed medication for my anxiety and depression, but I stopped taking them a month after getting them. That was when I was a freshman. They thought I was depressed because my dad was deployed for a year but they were so fucking wrong. It was because I was a fat fuck with friends who I didn't even trust to tell them that my mom hit me. Now I'm just a fat fuck with two friends who know my mom hits me. I told them I had pills at home but had stopped taking them, so they "recommended" I took them to "help my mental state through this traumatic experience" of my girlfriend probably dying. I walked down the last steps and turned into the waiting room. No Peter. Just Cailyn.

"So are you bipolar?" She asked.

"Where's Peter?" I grunted.

"With Amber's doctor. Down the hall." She said. I immediately started walking down the hall past the reception area. I saw Peter, a woman, and a doctor standing outside a room. I decided to walk slower. Peter and the woman were both gloomy. Peter was holding the woman close. I realized it was Amber's mom I only met once. She was crying. The doctor walked down the hall in the opposite directions. I rushed over.

"Is she okay?" I choked.

"Severe concussion, two broken ribs, fractured ankle, sprained wrist, and she got a cut on her head that needed stitches." Peter explained. I swallowed hard.

"Are the leg injuries on the same leg?" I asked.

"Yes." Amber's mom replied. I nodded.

"Are we allowed to see her?" I asked.

"Yes but she's not awake yet. We want to see her alone. We'll come get you when she's awake." Peter explained. I nodded.

"I'll send Hayley in when she comes." I said.

"Thank you." Mrs. Johnson cried. They opened the door and walked in. I could see a little into the room and I could see Amber's head wrapped and tubes and wires attached to her. Not a pretty scene. The door shut and I sighed. This was all my goddamn fault. I turned around and started walking down the hall towards the waiting room. I needed to talk to Cailyn without being a bitch. I knew it, she knew it. I saw Cailyn stand from her chair and walk outside. I walked faster and rushed out the doors. She was standing a few feet away from the doors lighting a cigarette.

"Hey." I said, crossing my arms and walking towards her.

"If you're here to yell at me fuck off." She snapped.

"I actually came to apologize." I said.

"In the week and a half I've known you haven't heard you say sorry once." She scoffed.

"I'm serious," I sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what the fuck got into me. I just snapped." She didn't reply to me, instead she pulled off her jacket and held it out to me.

"You're clearly cold. Take it." She said.

"No thanks." I said.

"Take it." She ordered.

"I don't need it."

"You're stubborn, Miller." She rolled her eyes before pulling the jacket back onto herself.

"You're too nice and forgiving, Riccardi." I said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She raised an eyebrow as she blew smoke out of her mouth.

"You came here when I called you. You fought me when I tried to run away. You stayed after you had me taken for a mental examination, which by the way, I'm not bipolar. You have been nice to me since I left you at that motel because I was mad I slept with you." I explained.