Page 14 of Hits Different

I’m rescued by a knock at the open door. “How’s my most impatient patient feeling?”

Ok, so my desperation to avoid spending the night in hospital didn’t exactlyendearme to the nursing staff, but Dr Stassi Abiola is a badass. She’s about my mom’s age, with beautiful thick braids, bright white kicks and a megawattdon’t fuck with mesmile. “Still causing the orderlies to re-think their career in caregiving?”

“Patiently being a patient who’d very much like to get out of here”, I match her smile hopefully, “But mad impressed by your wordplay, Doc”.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Brandon”. She glances up over my chart. “I’m sorry. Have you hadanotheroutfit change?” Freddie brought me some casual clothes to wear, given that my soccer kit was a bloodied mess, and I couldn’t bring myself to get wedged into a hospital gown.

“You told me to!”

“I told you to put a shirt on”, she says bluntly, causing Freddie to hide a grin behind his hand. “A move that made me unpopular with more than one of my nurses. Any headaches?”

I shake my head vigorously to prove it. She takes out a pen-light and asks me to follow it. Once we’re done, I pull out my best puppy dog eyes. “Please may I be released? I swear, if I see any goalposts or shithouse goalkeepers, I will avoid them like a, like a…”

“Yes?”

“Like a really good avoider-er”, I finish lamely.

She raises her eyebrows. “Is he always like this?”

“He’s not used to having to work so hard to get his own way”, Freddie explains. I break out my best blue steel pout and she sighs. “People don’t say no to that bone structure, do they?”

“Not usually”, I say. She shakes her head and takes my chart over to a nurse. I cross my fingers as Freddie whispers in my ear.

“You’re flirting with women now? You must have got hit harder than I thought”.

“It’s the concussion talking”.

“Tell your concussion to put some ice on it. She’s wearing a wedding ring”.

“Shealso has pretty good hearing”, Dr Abiola says, smiling. “Actually, your popularity extends beyond thenurses”, she adds, giving an admonishing look to the pretty blonde loitering in the doorway. “I received a special request to check on you last night”. My heart skips a beat.Parker.

“From Vanessa Weaver”.

If Parker cared, he’d have called.

Or he’d be here.

“The name doesn’t ring a bell”. I sit up in sudden alarm.“If I say that I don’t remember, are you going to make me stay another night?”

“Keep the sling on for a couple of days. You need to stay under observation. I assume I can trust your friend to do the honours?” Freddie nods. “There’s some paperwork to sign, some medication to take, but after that, you’re free to go. I’ll be back in a moment”.

“I’ll get us some coffee”, Freddie says, hopping off the bed. When he gets to the door, he turns back. “We don’t have to be at the airport until tomorrow night. That’s plenty of time to go and see Parker. I’ll drive you”.

He’s gone before I can reply.

There’s a big part of me that has always wanted to go back to that night with Parker. If I’d have known the last time I saw him would be the last time, I’d have done everything differently.

I slide carefully off the bed and start to gather my things. I just want to get out of here. My jacket is hanging up by the window, and I pause to take in the view.

I’ll say this, Parker’s city is beautiful.

I press my face against the glass, counting rows of buildings, making it to nearly twenty-five before the tops blur with the early evening sky. Most of the windows have lights on, and I hate myself for wondering which room might belong to Parker, and how far it is from mine.

By the entrance, an ambulance pulls up, its lights flashing. A woman pushes a kid in a wheelchair towards the carpark. There’s a lot of people coming and going. But it’s the figure standing alone that makes my breath freeze in my throat.

It can’t be.

Parker.

---