sharkbait \\ h.s

8

I wake up in the morning with a sharp pain stinging my right shoulder, practically paralyzing me. I've never felt it before, even right after the attack, so I know something is off. It's three twenty-four when I decide I need to go to the hospital.

I yank my phone from its charger cord on my bed, hearing a snap but not thinking anything of it as I dial my father's number.

It rings three times and then I'm sent to voicemail. He ignored me. "Dammit!" I shout as another sting of pain is sent through my shoulder. I clench onto the nub at an attempt to seise the pain. Tears begin to form behind my eyes.

Then I think of something.

When I was seventeen, a year after the attack, I was assigned to a doctor that I was supposed to call whenever I needed help. I never needed the number, but my dad kept it in case of emergency.

I dig through all of my father's drawers, only to come up empty handed.

The pain is not subsiding, and now I am full blown crying. I don't know anyone in this city, so I sit on the couch alone, terrified, and crying hysterically.

My phone blares. The number across the screen is unknown.

"Hello?" My voice breaks, but I don't try to correct myself.

"California," a deep voice comes through the speaker. I don't recognize it at first. "It's Harry. Hi."

I cry harder.

"Cali?" His tone is serious, no signs of tiredness or irritation. "What's wrong? Do I have to come over there?" I nod even though he can't see me but I stay silent. "Okay... I'm gonna come over. I'll be there in ten. Hold tight, babe."

After he hangs up, I head to the bathroom and retrieve a bottle of ibuprofen, only hoping it decreases the ache. I pop three into my mouth, swallowing with no water, then have nine one one ready to call in case Harry doesn't show.

I crumple to floor at a failed attempt to get back to the couch. "Oh my God, what the hell, oh my God, what the fuck," I say to myself.

That's how Harry finds me when he comes in: on the floor and repeating the mantra I created in this short time.

Harry shakes me. "Cali," he says softly. "Cali, hey. It's, uh, it's me, Harry. What's wrong?"

I hiccup. "I need... to go-- to go to the hospital."

"The hospital?" I nod. "And you need me to drive you?" Another nod. "Okay, can you walk?" I shake my head. "Okay. "I'm gonna pick you up now, alright?We're gonna do this bride style, because that's better than lifting you over my shoulder. Okay?"

One of his arms snakes under my knees, the other around my shoulders, and he lifts me off the hardwood. My shoulder stings again and I flinch.

Harry already has the door to his car open and the front seat is laid back, so he just carefully slides me onto the leather seat. When he gets in the driver seat, he looks at me and runs a hand over his hair, which happens to be braided back again. "Jesus, California," he huffs.

The car comes on and heavy music and loud screams fill the car. Harry turns it down all the way. "Sorry, I couldn't find the classical." I laugh. "Okay, you laughed that's good. I'm gonna keep making you laugh, just so I can ensure that you're still with me here. Cool?" I nod with a faint smile on my face.

Harry tells me horrible jokes the whole way to the hospital.

...

I wake up and see white. I panic until I see that I'm facing the light on the ceiling, and that I'm in a hospital bed. Harry is asleep in the chair next to me.

I recall the events of earlier today and immediately feel embarrassed. Of course it was Harry who came, as if he needed to see worse than the whole puking incident.

There's a small bandage on the inside of my elbow, and I briefly remember the doctor taking blood. My head spins at the thought of a needle in my arm.

The curtains open and a nurse steps in. "Kent?" I nod. "Hi, sweets, I'm Nurse Lindy. You can just call me Lindy." Her slight southern accent and purple scrubs make me feel comfortable for some reason.

"Thanks," I say.

"I'm gonna send Dr. Brite in here for you. He's gonna tell you what's going to go down while you're here. Alright, sweets?"

I just nod. Lindy disappears behind the curtains again and my mind drifts to Harry. To say that he was the one I wanted to take me here would be a huge lie. Harry was the last person I would've called, to be honest.

He begins to stir in his sleep before his eyes pop open. "Hey," he says. "You're up."

Right then, a tall man in a white coat walks through the curtains. "Hello, California. I'm Dr. Brite." He looks to Harry. "And you are?"

"Harry," Harry says.

Dr. Brite focuses on me again. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I was in lots of pain, Harry drove me to the hospital," I say.

"When did the pain start?" Dr. Brite brings his clipboard up, pen in hand, and readies himself for my answer.

"When I woke up this morning."

"What time was that?"

"Like, three maybe?"

"And when did you call your boyfriend?"

Harry and I immediately look at each other. The look on his face tells me to just go with it. "I didn't call him. He called me."

"How did he know to call you?"

"Her dad called me," Harry said. The doctor looked thoroughly confused. I probably did, too. "She called her dad. He called me."

"Where is her dad?"

My brain feels like it's banging against my skull, trying to escape these questions. I put my cheek on the pillow to avoid looking at the doctor and look at Harry instead. His eyes meet mine and he gives me a sympathetic smile.

"Her father is currently out of town," Harry answers for me, never taking his eyes off me. "Hey, doc, I know you've got your questions, but do you think you could, like, come back later?"

Dr. Brite raises an eyebrow and folds his hands over his clipboard, his eyes flicking between the two of us. "Of course. The girl needs her sleep."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

He nods his head on his way out.

Harry places his large hand over my small one, practically burying it into the sheets. "Alright, sweets," he mocks the nurse from earlier, "it's time for you to rest."

I laugh. "I don't want to sleep, I just woke up."

"Too bad."

"Are you gonna stay?"

"I have work, Cali."

My smile drops and I look away. Of course he has work. What was I thinking anyways? Not everyone can drop their lives to be with me.

"Hey." He smiles softly and fire ignites through me as he strokes his thumb around the top of my hand. "Don't be upset. I'll come back in the morning."

My skin tingles at the loss of contact when Harry pulls away to walk out. I stare at the curtains for a long time after he leaves and find myself realizing that, man, I really like this guy.

-

(i edited the end bc the first one sucked lol)

very happy bc fav wattpad author replied to me on twitter twice haha :))

im gonna start putting longer spaces between my updates, i dont want to finish it too quickly

vote and comment x

~mel