Page 143 of Learning Curve

“Why don’t you want him in here?” she asks, and I stare down at the two limbs that no longer work.

“Because he should be back on campus, attending his classes. That should be his priority.” Not a girl who doesn’t even know what she has left to offer the world, let alone him.

“Scottie, I know this isn’t my place, but I think you’re wrong here. I think you have a guy who really loves you and wants to be there for you.”

He loves me…now. But after months of dealing with this, dealing with me, and missing out on life because of my challenges, those feeling are slowly going to turn into regret and resentment.

When I don’t say anything, she says, “I know the two of you have been through a lot. That’s clear with everything you told me last night, but I think you’re making a mistake.”

Last night, when our dad was asleep, she grilled me about Finn. I guess after I told him to leave, and his response was to sit in the waiting room, that engaged her spidey senses a little too much. So, I told her all of the nitty-gritty details of our relationship. All of the ups and down and highs and lows. And where our relationship was before I got injured.

“You have a guy who wants to be there for you. Like, really be there for you,” Wren says. “He clearly loves you, and I just don’t understand why you’re pushing him away.”

The answer to that is easy. Because Finn Hayes loves the Scottie Bardeaux I used to be. A girl who I can’t imagine will ever exist again.

Scottie

Four medical staff in jumpsuits with Med-I-Vac embroidered on their chests get the rundown from my nurses and Dr. Stewart as they turn my body from side to side to slide a backboard beneath me.

I can see my legs and feet moving, but I don’t feel them. It’s a strange feeling, having zero sensation from the waist down and not having control over my lower extremities. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.

Wren and my dad watch on from the corner of the room, and I silently wonder how much this transportation is going to cost.

“Is this really necessary, Dr. Stewart?” I ask him, and he steps over to the stretcher the Med-I-Vac staff has now relocated me to.

“Is what necessary, Scottie?”

“Transporting me like this,” I answer. “I feel like my dad could’ve just rented a van and driven me back to New York.” It would’ve been a hell of a lot cheaper. He could’ve just thrown my ass in the back of a U-Haul, for all I care.

“We’ve been through this, Scottie,” Dr. Stewart says gently. “We don’t want to cause any undue stress on your spine. The goal from here on out is to maintain as much function as we can. And since you haven’t officially started rehabilitation and PT, we don’t have a clear sense of your body’s limitations.”

My body limitations? My legs, my bladder, and my bowels don’t work. I don’t need a medical degree to know that. I’m living it every day now.

“This is the safest way to get you back home, okay?” He squeezes my shoulder. “I know it feels like a pain in the ass, and I get that. But this is all temporary. Once you start rehab and PT in New York, you’re going to start getting your independence back.”

Temporary. Independence. Those words don’t feel like they will ever be a part of my reality.

“We’re all set, Dr. Stewart,” one of the female Med-I-Vac staff updates, and I remember that her name is Allison. She, along with the other three members of her team, introduced themselves when they first came into my room.

“Have a safe trip back to New York, Scottie,” Dr. Stewart says with a smile. “Your father has my number. If you have any questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to call me, okay? And I’ll be in contact with Dr. Hurst and his team.”

I nod.

“Thanks, Doc,” my dad says and steps up to shake Dr. Stewart’s hand. “Appreciate everything you’ve done for my girl.”

My sister offers her thanks too, and I feel like a real ungrateful asshole for not saying anything. It’s like I’m subconsciously pushing all my fear and anger about my injury onto him and his staff. People who have done nothing but treat me with kindness and have done everything in their power to maintain my dignity through some of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

“Thank you,” I force myself to say, locking eyes with Dr. Stewart first and then Nurse Maureen, who stands near the doorway.

“It’s been our pleasure,” Nurse Maureen says, and Dr. Stewart nods.

“We’ll be thinking about you, Scottie.”

My dad and Wren step up to my bedside to give me hugs and kisses.

“We’ll see you in New York, okay?” my dad says, and I don’t miss the way emotion makes his voice all scratchy. “Our flight lands at eight this evening, and we’ll head straight to the hospital.”

“You guys don’t need to do that. I’ll—”

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