Page 212 of The Surprise Play
I’m still waiting for surgery. The hours ticked by as my parents got more and more agitated. I couldn’t give my father a firm yes on the training camp situation, and it was pissing him off.
He’s pushing hard for it, and logically, I know it’s the right thing to do, but I just can’t bring myself to agree for some reason.
You know the reason.
Shit, if I tell them it’s because I’m not ready to leave my girl, they will never get over it.
But is that all it is?
What is this niggle inside me?
Why can’t I jump all over this idea?
A nurse came through about an hour ago to check my chart and ask if I needed more meds. I took them because my head was splitting, and my knee was killing me.
Dad peppered her with questions as she sorted me out, and when she told him it was most likely that my surgery wouldn’t happen until the morning, he lost it.
Mom had to calm him down, but she was just as gutted as he was. I could tell because she went really,reallyquiet, and she only does that when shit is bad.
And it was so fucking quiet.
I couldn’t talk. Dad sat there staring at nothing while Mom perched on a chair, her knee bobbing as she messed around on her phone, obviously trying to distract herself.
Thank fuck, the nurse came back and told my parents visiting hours were nearly over. They could come back and see me tomorrow, and probably after the surgery would be best.
Before my parents finally left, they moved me up to a room for the night—my parents insisting that I have one to myself. It was fucking embarrassing, but thankfully it worked out that there was a single room available, so they parked me in there and told me to try and get some sleep. I’d be prepped for surgery first thing in the morning.
They didn’t give me a specific time, and it will no doubt feel like an age, stuck in this bed with a dead phone and a little TV that doesn’t work.
I can’t watch anything anyway.
I’m aching and can’t get comfortable.
I have no way of contacting my friends or my girl.
Shit.
I have no idea what she’s going through right now, but I should have fucking told my parents she was my girlfriend!
After her disaster of a birthday party and how hard I had to work convincing her she was everything I wanted, I then went and blew it!
And I can’t contact her to apologize because my fucking phone is out of juice and?—
The door creaks open and I glance up, hoping it’s a kind nurse who might find me a charger.
But the second my visitor walks through the door, the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. “Thank God.” I choke out the words, relief swamping me as I hold my arms wide and silently ask for a hug.
I might not get one.
I probably don’t deserve it without some kind of explanation, but then I spot Satch’s smile as she walks toward me, nestling against my side and laying her head on my shoulder.
I can’t describe the emotion welling up inside me.
Cupping the back of her soft hair, I hold her close and whisper on repeat, “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
She stops me after my third time, sitting back to look at me with a gentle smile. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.” I tuck the hair behind her ear, running my knuckles down her smooth cheek. “I hurt you.”
