Violets

Oatmeal Raisin

Logan awoke to the sunlight hitting his eyes. He lifted his right hand to his face, blocking it out.

"Good morning, Logan!" his mom said. Her cheerful tone made Logan groan.

"Mom, what time is it?" Logan asked groggily.

"Time to go home!" she said. At this, Logan pushed himself into a sitting position. He looked around. He was in a hospital room. His left arm was in a soft cast and his head throbbed.

"So it wasn't a dream. Dang it."

His mom laughed. "How are you feeling, Logan?"

Logan took a deep breath. Compared to last night, his pain was nearly nonexistent. His mind felt as sharp as ever, and the throbbing was fading by the second.

"Great, actually."

"Let's get you home, then! I brought you some clean clothes to change into. Can you get into them yourself?" his mom asked, holding up a grocery bag full of clothes.

"I think I can do it myself," Logan replied. She tossed him the bag, and he caught it with his right hand.

"Hurry up. Your brothers are in the car," she said. She left the room to give Logan some privacy. He stood up and shook out the bag of clothes.

He peeled off his blue hospital gown, tossing it over his bed. He maneuvered his way into the shirt using his right hand, trying not to bump his fractured left arm. Putting on pants was easier. He zipped them up and reached down for his socks.

A wave of fatigue flooded his mind. Something was wrong. He picked up the socks, but had no use for them any more. He stumbled forward, face planting onto the bed. His limbs felt like lead.

He couldn't think.

His eyes drooped closed, and he slipped away.

He awoke to see the faces of doctors. He turned his head to see his mother, sitting still, with a very frightened look on her face. He sat up.

"What happened?" he asked.

"It's an effect of the concussion." One doctor said. "We should keep him here another day to monitor him."

"Great," Logan said sarcastically.

_

With a gentle knock, Violet opened the door. Logan was sitting on the bed doing homework. He looked up with a glum look on his face.

"Why do you look like you just bit into an oatmeal raisin cookie?" she asked.

"What?" Logan asked, offended. "What's wrong with oatmeal raisin?"

"Everything," Violet said with a shudder. Logan rolled his eyes.

"It's not that bad. A more appropriate phrase would be 'biting into a slice of pineapple pizza.'"

Violet gasped. "Pineapple is the best thing to ever happen to pizza!"

"Well, I guess we can't be friends, then."

"I agree wholeheartedly."

With that, she turned on her heel and started to walk out.

"Hey. Hey!" Logan said. The door closed behind her. He stood up and walked after her.

He followed her out of his hospital room. He couldn't remember seeing the outside of his room before, so he quickly became lost. The only thing guiding him was a petite, blonde girl trying to evade him for disagreeing on food preferences.

He followed her out of the hospital and into the courtyard. Only then did she turn around to smirk at him. "Couldn't stay away?"

Logan scoffed. "I didn't think you'd leave."

"I do what I want, and no one will ever stop me."

"Woah, woah, woah. I don't intend to," Logan said. He looked around. "Hey, where are we?"

Violet looked around, smiling. "The hospital garden."

They were, in fact, in a garden. One tree stood tall in the center of the garden, surrounded by old, wooden benches. Hedges taller than Logan walled in the garden, but they didn't block the sun from shining directly onto him. Flowerbeds were scattered around the garden. Logan could see lilies, and... pink flowers, purple flowers, yellow flowers, and orange flowers. Logan couldn't remember their names.

"Oh, look at these! Aren't they lovely?" Violet said, walking over to some purple flowers.

"Yeah. What are they called?" Logan asked. Violet gave him an incredulous look.

"They're violets," she said.

"Oh," Logan said. Slightly defeated, he walked over to a bench and sat down. Violet sat beside him, leaning on his shoulder.

It was late April, and the world was already in bloom. Logan couldn't remember the last time he  looked carefully at it. He was always speeding past everything on his bike, more concerned about pedaling than looking at nature. If he closed his eyes, he could hear the sounds of birds singing. He could hear the cars zooming past the hospital, too.

"Why are you closing your eyes?" Violet asked. Logan looked at her, annoyed. She shrugged. "Hey, I'm not judging. It's really beautiful out here, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. I'm glad you showed me this place."

She slouched forward, pursing her lips. "So, what are you going to do after you get out?"

Logan hummed, thinking. "Well, I can't do much with this broken arm, but I can't wait to get on the mountain with my bike again."

"This time with a helmet?" she asked.

"Gosh, what is up with you and helmets?" Logan asked. Violet frowned.

"I just don't want you to DIE, that's what," she snapped. She sighed. "I've just seen too many people get injured for silly reasons, like not wearing helmets or seat belts."

"Oh, I rarely wear seat belts."

The look on Violet's face turned murderous. She gave Logan a death glare. "Come again? You don't do what?"

Logan felt nervous. "I said, well, sometimes I forget to put on a seat belt."

The murderous intent faded into pure hurt and anger.

"Logan," she started, her voice dark. He saw tears start to form. "Please, please, wear a seat belt. You don't know... I don't... It's just that..."

Logan was very confused. This had escalated quickly. Something involving seat belts was causing Violet to cry- no, sob. She was sobbing. Logan wasn't sure what to do, so he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Violet?" he said softly. She looked up at him. She sniffed back her tears.

"Sorry," she said, standing. "You just won't get it. I need to go."

"Wait, Violet!" Logan said, but she had already started running away.