1978
Brookline, Massachusetts
"Conan, take out the trash!"
"Argh, mom!"
"Take out the trash!"
Conan had finally gotten a summer job, which meant more money for him to spend on... books. A lot of them. He was late that day, and June's mother offered herself to give him a ride to work. As Conan was leaving, Mrs. O'Brien asked him to take out the trash, since none of his siblings were around. He had to run and take two huge black trash bags out. He got out of his house, juggling one bag in each hand, a week worth of trash from a family of eight people.
He could barely walk and as he got near to the metal trash can, he lost his balance and something scratched his right leg. He fell on his left side, and June, who was waiting outside with her mom on her car, went to him immediately to see what had happened. She got to him, the white skin of his leg soaked with bright red blood. On the floor, a used tuna fish can. Apparently it had cut the bag and its sharp edge sliced his leg. He was bleeding profusely; the wound appeared to be deep.
June's mom rushed inside to warn Mrs. O'Brien of what happened to his son. June helped Conan stand up.
"Are you okay?" she asked, worried.
"I'm fine, I guess." He said. The blood was running down his leg to his white sock and sneaker, almost flooding them. The pain was in his facial expression, as much as he tried to deny it. He started to limp to June's car, as she held his waist, his right arm around her neck.
"You're getting so much taller than me." She noted. He tried to go on alone, feeling for her and the effort she was making, but he couldn't. June still managed to get him into the car, and her mom got him to the hospital quickly. His mom followed right after.
He lost a great amount of blood, a bit of it were now on June's clothing. She took the responsibility of waiting with his mom outside his room while the nurse patched him up. Both of them were really worried, but the nurse assured he wasn't in danger. It would probably leave a scar, though. As Mrs. O'Brien and June waited, his mom decided to talk.
"You really like my son, don't you?"
June blushed. "What?"
"You really like him."
"I... well ma'am, he's my friend." June said.
Mrs. O'Brien smiled. "You know what I mean. You're always here... always around."
June got silent. For some reason, she was really embarrassed by that.
"It's okay. It's our secret." She winked at June.
Before June could reply, the nurse came out and said Conan was fine, and she advised that it was a deep wound and that he would need to rest and not move so much. They entered the room and there were some other beds there, with other people. He was lying on a bed as well. Both entered and Conan's mom went to talk to him immediately.
"Sorry, sweetie." She held his hand. "I'll have a talk with the boys; I'm sure one of them left that can there."
"It's okay." Conan said. "I just can't move a whole lot right now."
June looked at the bloody shoe on the floor, right next to his bed. He looked up at him, all cleaned up this time. His hair was a mess, and he looked paler than normal, maybe because of all the blood he lost. She got nervous; he didn't look good at all. He stared at her, silent for a moment. His blood all over her brought memories he didn't want to remember.
"How is it?" she asked.
"I've been worse." Conan replied. His blue eyes wandered by the room for a moment. "I still have to work, though."
June frowned. "You're not gonna work, are you insane?! You almost died, oh my God! You have to rest!"
June said that out loud, everybody in the room heard it and looked at her. Conan stared at her, scared by the sudden outburst. His mom was the only one that giggled. The nurse said he should wait a bit before leaving, as any physical effort could make the wound bleed again. Conan showed his leg, his freckled skin covered up by gauze and tape. It calmed June down, after seeing a huge amount of blood.
-
Conan came home later that same day, and his mother made sure that he wouldn't do anything that required any major physical labor. It sucked for Conan, being hyperactive as he was. But he took some time to read some books he had. He stayed the rest of the day and the evening in bed, eating potato chips. June went home, but decided to visit him afterwards.
She entered by his window and sat with him on his bed. "How are you feeling now, sunshine?"
He looked at her, now looking a bit healthier. "I'm better now."
She sighed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you today."
"It's okay." He said with his mouth half full. "Mom said you were just worried."
She looked down to the cut leg, now covered by the pajamas. "How long will you be in bed?"
"I don't know, mom said that maybe for a couple of weeks." He offered the chips to June. "I'm sorry. I really wanted to play baseball with you this weekend."
June nodded, chewing. "No worries."
"Mom also said..." his voice faded.
"What?" she said, handing him the bag of chips.
"...that you love me a lot." He chewed a mouth full of chips.
June blushed. "You're my best friend. Friends... they love each other, right?"
He nodded. "I believe so."
She smiled at him. "I hope you get better."
"Me too. I want to get off this bed already."
She giggled.
"Thanks for loving me." He smiled, his blue eyes sparkling. "I love you too."
June said goodbye and Conan offered the remaining chips to her. She would jump his window a lot that summer.
