Page 76 of No One Else

Morgan left fifteen minutes ago and I’ve been a bundle of energy since then, unable to stay still, rearranging the knick-knacks on my desk over and over, checking the time until the numbers are imprinted on the back of my eyelids.

He’s ten minutes late, but that’s not cause for panic, right? People are allowed to be late. Maybe he couldn’t find a spot in the dorm’s parking lot. Or maybe no one let him into the building, even though other girls on my floor are starting to recognize him.

I should have gone downstairs and waited. I grab my keycard and then think better of it. What if I miss him because he’s taking the elevator up and I take the stairs? Or vice versa? I plop back down on my bed, picking up my phone to call him and immediately set it down again. Am I coming across as too eager? Aren’t there dating rules to that sort of thing?

I already know neither of us subscribe to the rule about waiting three days after a date to call someone, but isn’t there one about sleeping together? Is it not until the third date? Have we even had three dates?

I do some mental gymnastics trying to figure out how many times we’ve hung out since our first date. Would they technically even be considered dates? Actually, I don’t care. He and I both know we want to get down and dirty tonight. We have to be past any third date nonsense at this point. And for God’s sake, the man said he loved me once upon a time. If anyone is eager for this, it’s him. And I’m right there with him.

So where is he?

I open up the browser on my phone to look up dating rules to pass the time when the picture I took of him shirtless at the kissing booth, along with his name below, flashes on my screen. So I added that pic to his contact info. Sue me.

“Evan,” I answer brightly, bringing the phone up to my ear. Oh God, that sounded too eager, didn’t it?

“Hey.” His voice is weary, the sound of beeping echoing in the background.

“Where are you?” My brain immediately goes into panic mode, not sure what the beeping means exactly, but it can’t be good.

“I’m at the hospital,” he sighs. “I’m not going to make it tonight.”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I grip the phone tighter to my ear, my heart pounding.

“Nothing’s wrong with me. It’s my dad.”

My pulse slows some at his assurance, but I’m still worried for whatever brought Pete to the hospital. “Well, is he okay? What happened?”

“I was getting ready to leave the house when his cane slipped from under him. He fell and hit his head.”

I gasp, my hand coming up to cover my mouth, but I stay silent, letting him continue.

“I took him to the emergency room and on initial assessment they said nothing seems damaged, he just has a concussion, but they want to keep him a while for observation, especially because of his past medical issues.” He clears his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh my gosh, Evan, don’t worry about it. This is way more important.”

“I wanted to call you earlier but every time I tried, a doctor or nurse would come in, or I had paperwork to fill out. It’s been one thing after another.”

“I understand, really. I just hope everything turns out okay. That there’s no lasting damage or anything.”

“Me too.”

“Is that Natalie?” I hear from the background. “You tell that girl I’m fine. As soon as they discharge me, you go on that date with her.”

Evan must set the phone away from him because the next part is muffled. “Dad, they’re not going to release you for another few hours.”

“They act like no one’s ever got a bump on the head before,” Pete gripes.

Evan’s voice is clear now as he mutters, “Sorry about that.”

“Well, at least it hasn’t affected his mind too bad.”

“No, thank God.” There’s rustling on the line and then in a louder voice he says, “I’ll be back soon, Dad. I’m going to talk out in the hall.”

“Take your time, son.”

The click of a door shutting sounds and then... silence.

“How are you doing?” I ask him softly, knowing that must have been a traumatic experience.

---