Page 63 of The Way We Are

I shove my legs into my jeans and yank them up my thighs, my fast movements spurred on by a brilliant idea. I've barely buttoned up my jeans when I'm flying out of the bathroom like a bat out of hell.

“Do you have any scissors?” I ask Cybil, my words coming out in a flurry.

She waits for me to yank my shirt over my head before answering, “Why do you want scissors? Do you have a stray tag?” She tries to keep her voice impassive but does a terrible job. Hobo Chic is coming into fashion, but that isn’t the reason for my faded shirt and dirty jeans. It’s a money issue.

When my eyes drop to my friendship bracelet, the worry on Cybil’s face doubles.

“Are you sure you want to cut it off? You don’t have much length to tie it back on if you change your mind,” she checks, her voice surprisingly worried.

“That’s okay. I’m tying it on a much smaller wrist,” I assure her, grinning like a loon.

When she follows the direction of my gaze, a beaming smile stretches across her face. “Alright, let’s do this.”

She secures a set of scissors out of the top pocket of her nurse’s uniform. The bend at the end of their design replicates ones used in trauma surgeries, but they are one fourth the size.

Fragments of red rope filter to the floor when she carefully cuts the bracelet at the original knot Savannah tied over ten years ago. From the way a groove scours deeper into her forehead with every cut she makes, anyone would swear she was conducting lifesaving coronary surgery, not removing a flimsy rope.

“There you go,” she says with a grunt at the exact moment the rope falls away from my wrist.

I catch it in my other hand, its size even smaller than I expected.

“Don’t kill me with anticipation. Hop to it,” Cybil barks, forcing my legs forward with the command in her tone.

She grazes her teeth over her bottom lip when I carefully encircle the rope around Savannah's wrist, the one not wearing her hospital ID. Because Savannah's wrist is nearly half the size of mine, the bracelet is a perfect fit.

My lips fan Savannah’s ear when I faintly whisper, “I promise.”

27

Ryan

I grunt before rolling away from the voice trying to wake me up. My change in position reminds me that I’m sleeping on a rock-hard chair in the middle of a bustling waiting room. It also prompts me to the circumstances of my visit. I jackknife to a half-seated position, barely missing bumping heads with Cybil, who is crouched down in front of me.

“Savannah? Is she alright? Is she awake?”

“She’s fine; she’s still sleeping,” Cybil assures me, moving to sit in the vacant chair next to me.

While rubbing sleep from my eyes, I scan the room, seeking a clock. There isn’t one. The sun peeking through the curtains alerts that it is morning, but the thumping of my head assures me it's still early.

I had no intentions of falling asleep, but after forcing Brax and Chris to go home at 3 AM, my tiredness must have gotten the better of me. Although peeved at the hospital’s strict visiting protocol, I’m grateful Cybil kept me updated through the night.

“Is your shift over?” I ask Cybil, noticing she has a black handbag resting on her stocking-covered knees.

Smiling, she nods. “I wanted to stay until Savannah was awake, but since I already did a double, the head of department sent me home.”

The smile on her face morphs onto mine when I hear the annoyance in her voice.

“Has Savannah’s dad arrived yet?” Although I am asking a question, I stand from my chair and move into the hallway to check for myself. I can’t see Savannah from my angle, but I can see anyone standing in her room.

“He still hasn’t arrived?” I ask, shifting on my feet to face Cybil, my words as hazy as my mind. “Did you call him?”

“Yes,” she assures me, her tone lowering. “Several times.”

She breathes out heavily before standing from her chair. “I really wish you’d go home and get some sleep, Ryan. Savannah is going to wake up as fresh as a daisy, and you’re going to look like...” The grimace crossing her face finalizes her comment.

“Shit? Thanks.”

Cybil laughs, taking my comment as I had intended: playfully.

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