Being a kid that grew up in the system without finances and transportation, I became fluent in the world of bus routes. I wasn’t in favor of the bus, now that I’d been spoiled with the use of Robert’s car, but I wasn’t completely uncomfortable with the condition of the floors, the dirty, worn out seats or the fellow riders as some people would be. Although I would say this: I always traveled with my own seat covers, toilet paper and soap sheets…just in case.
What was I thinking just coming out here blind? The cool, crisp mountain air was soothing after being stuffed on that nasty bus with recycled air for eight plus hours, but my stomach turned again when I stepped inside the hospital and inhaled a mixture of medicinal and disinfectant laced air. I avoided the main entrance altogether, already knowing they wouldn’t tell anyone his information that wasn’t family, and I didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to myself. But now I was left to wander aimlessly through the hospital.
Genius, Jenna. Super smart.
I tried the ICU first, since his grandmother had said he was there, but I didn’t see his name listed with the other patients outside the glass doors that led to the rooms. The design made me think of a sunburst, with the nurses’ station and waiting room in the center, and four sets of additional halls hidden behind glass doors that irradiated out, so it was easy to check the names at each main entrance without anyone noticing me. I figured that maybe they had moved him out into one of the less critical wings, and began walking the corridors, hoping that was the case. I pretended to be reading my phone as I glanced at the names on patient doors, just so the staff wouldn’t think twice about me as I meandered through.
After sweeping the first two floors and coming up empty, I decided it couldn’t hurt to call the hospital’s operator and try for a room number. This time I skipped trying to find out personal information and just flat out asked to be transferred to Evan Gilden’s room. I inhaled sharply when she said okay and the other end of the line began ringing. For the second time today, my panic almost drove me to hang up. After the fourth ring, I was beginning to breathe easier ‘cause I just knew no one was gonna answer.
But then someone did.
“Hello?”
I whimpered. God, I actually whimpered.
It was him. His voice was a little raspy and garbled, but I’d recognize it anywhere. I closed my eyes and could almost feel his breath on my ear.
“Evan?” I whispered.
“Yeah?
Relief flushed my system, and for once my heart tried to beat at a normal pace, my hand pressing flat against my chest as if it could will it to slow more. “Oh, thank God you’re okay.”
“Yeah, I’m living. Who is this?”
And right then, right at that very second, I should’ve walked away. He was alive, and he was doing well enough to have a conversation with me. I should’ve just hung up and gone home, knowing that he’d overcome unconsciousness again, that he wouldn’t be returning to my dreams again. Not ever. So long as he didn’t pull this stunt a third time.
“Jenna?” he asked hesitantly. “Is this you?”
“Wha-…um…yeah. It’s just…I heard you bumped your head again and I wanted to come make sure you were alright.”
“Wait. Come? Are you here at the hospital?”
Crap-crap-crap. I was so busted. Reluctantly, I replied, “Ye-ah.”
“Room four-sixteen. Head up.”
He hung up before I could protest, but I guess I couldn’t really anyway. Oh, sorry, Evan. I know I came eight hours by bus to see you but I had no intention of actually seeing you. But thanks for the offer.
It was a slow walk to the elevator since my feet had suddenly gained fifty extra pounds. The ride up was only two floors, but it was all the time my body needed to create an insanity of explosion-emotions. I swallowed hard outside his door, my heart defying the internal order I gave it to cease and desist. Once again he must’ve had the far bed, ‘cause there was no one up front and the curtain was pulled for privacy. His television was set to the sports channel, and the announcers were summarizing their predictions for the weekend’s upcoming college football games.
“Evan?”
“Back here.”
Well, duh. I just didn’t wanna surprise him or find him in a compromising position by poking my head around the privacy curtain. I edged along the wall, learning the chairs around his bedside were empty, though there was a large woman’s bag on the floor, with a rolled up magazine and aluminum knitting needles sticking out the top.
I blew out a short puff of air. Just get in, get out, Jenna. Say hello, make sure he’s okay and don’t get caught up in all the emotions. And most definitely, do not look into those eyes!
Nodding my head along with the internal coaching, I stepped forward and braved his glance. I immediately forgot what I told myself and a wave of sympathy overcame me. My steps were small, but it gave me plenty of time to assess him as I neared the head of the bed, and that kaleidoscope effect of gold specks that lined the inner part of his hazel eyes began that cruel hypnotizing thing. The lower left side of my lip got sucked into my mouth and I bit down hard enough I should have drawn blood. At worst, his eyes seemed tired, but for the most part, Evan looked pretty healthy. Far better than the last time I saw him lying in a hospital bed, with his sallow skin and muscle definition kaput. Well, the muscular structures in his arms were looking pretty defined now; so much I had a hard time breaking my admiration.
“Hi,” I all but whispered.
“Hey,” he quietly answered.
I just kinda stood there for a minute. It wasn’t really awkward or anything, just silent. I could tell he was debating something in his head, not sure whether or not to speak…something I’d had plenty of experience with in the past. His lips twitched a few times, trying to find the right words, which eventually, were, “So…last night…that was real?”
He seemed confused, like he’d been trying to convince himself it was just a dream. But I understood the hesitation. When our minds linked like that, it always felt…off. Not in a bad way, but something about it made me realize it wasn’t a real dream. It’s a feeling I had yet to describe with words. I almost wanna shrug and play it off, but I just couldn’t. It would forever leave him with this feeling of misunderstanding, and it would probably linger in the back of his mind for the rest of his life.
Reluctantly, I nodded my head.
He absently scratched his right eyebrow. “You…didn’t seem surprised to see me. Like it was a regular occurrence or something.”
“Yeah, well…you used to be a frequent flyer to my dreams. So no, I wasn’t completely surprised to see you there.”
He pinched his eyes shut and shook his head a few times, his face screaming confusion. “I don’t get it. I don’t understand. I thought I was crazy to even think it when I woke up today. How the hell is this even possible? People don’t just…share dreams like that.”
I released a heavy breath and pulled a chair up close to the bed and sat down. My hands roughly kneaded the straps on my backpack, and it took a few seconds to be able to look him in those gorgeous hazel eyes. He sat there waiting for me to answer, as if he already understood how hard it was to talk about this.
“Evan… What do you… Do you remember anything around the time you were in the coma? Like just before or during?”
He stared off into space for a moment. “No. Not really. There’s always been a hint of something right at the edge of my memory, itching to be scratched and released, but…it’s never surfaced. But there’s something familiar about you, Jenna. I didn’t notice it right away because it took a few months, but I always felt a sense of déjà vu with you. Like we met in a previous life or something, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that.” I relinquished the straps of my bag and the weight caused it to topple sideways onto the floor. “Did your nurse, Margaret, ever tell you about us?”
His forehead furrowed and he tilted his chin at me. “I never even realized there was an us.”
Oh, there was an us alright. A hot, sweaty, can’t-keep-our-hands-off-of-each-other us that would never work its way out of my head.
“The night you died in the car accident…was the same night I drowned in this pond by my school. Margaret said we both died within a minute of one another.” His eyes widened, and I shook my head in disbelief. “God. I can’t believe I have to tell you this, ‘cause you’re the one who remembered this next bit to begin with. And I can’t believe you forgot it all coming out of the coma.”
“What part?” Too slow to respond, he added, “Jenna, quit dragging it out and tell me already. Please.”
Despite his plea, I still ended up sighing and twitching my mouth a few times. “I have these…memories. Of the night we died. I can’t really hear anything or remember what exactly was said between us, and the pictures are a little fuzzy, but I’m confident we met the night we died. In that space between here and wherever our next destination is.” His glare softened a bit, and I wondered if any of this was coming back to him as I spoke the words. “You took my hand, and I remember thinking everything was gonna be okay. That whatever was about to happen, I wasn’t gonna have to go through it alone.” I transferred my hands from my lap to the covers of his bed, and felt my fingertips instinctively seek out his, gently stroking them once found. “But before we could find out what that something was, my soul was ripped from yours, ‘cause I was being brought back to life. And you sorta got dragged along with me for a bit, but the force was just too great for us to stay connected. You were brought back to life too, but you stayed in a coma. And the doctors couldn’t figure out why you weren’t waking up. Because how could they possibly know it’s because your spirit was still searching for what it thought it lost.”
His eyes narrowed a little more, and I was pretty sure he thought I was the crazy one here today.
“Evan, you came to me almost every night while you were in that coma. Somehow, you were able to find me and insert yourself into my dreams. And it didn’t stop until the day you woke up.”
He turned away from me and stared at the whimsical beaded circular pattern on the privacy curtain. I let him, ‘cause I knew what a load this was to take in, but once five minutes had passed on the clock on the wall, I said, “I know this sounds crazy.”
“It does,” he replied quickly. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel right. I told you. I’ve always felt this odd feeling about you. I can’t remember any of the things that happened, but I know something did. And all I’ve accomplished today is replacing one set of speculations and questions for another. And I never dared mentioning it to my mom or doctors because I figured they’d just think my brain got all f**ked up from lack of oxygen and send me to get a million more head scans. And then some shrink was going to want me to talk about my feelings for years to come.”
He rolled his head back over his pillow and let out a hefty sigh, one that surely released a great deal of pent up negative energy.
“Trust me. I get that. I only ever told my best friend Sophie, and she’s still convinced I just happened to see you in the hospital that night, thought you were hot, and focused in on you every night from then on out.”
His rolled back, the hazel in his eyes lighting up and that trademark lopsided grin pushing back his left cheek. Cocking his eyebrows, he probed, “You thought I was hot?”
“Ohhhhh, shuuuuut up! That’s what you fixate on, after everything I’ve said?”
“No, but at the moment, my head is pounding, and I’d rather focus on that than the other stuff.”
“I’m sorry. You should be resting and I’m totally weighing you down with all this emotional crap.”
I moved to grab my bag, but before I could even extend my legs to stand, he firmly stated, “Don’t even think about getting up. You don’t get to say all that shit, then walk away and disappear for another year. Drop the bag and get comfortable.”
I made an O face. O-kaaaaay then… I shoved the bag behind me and leaned it next to the other bag. “What about your parents?”
“When you called I asked them to give us some time. They said they’d take a long dinner.”
I nodded an acknowledgement and turned to stare at the TV. I didn’t follow college football. At all. So I had no idea what the commentators were going on about, or whether or not their clips were showing anything good. If Sophie were here, I knew exactly what part she’d be focusing in on: the snug uniforms, and she’d be assessing more physical attributes than I cared to mention.
“So…” Evan said, drawing my attention back to him. “When we were dream sharing…what exactly were we doing in there anyways?”
You mean besides each other? I cleared my throat to hide the smirk fighting to break my nonchalant façade. “You know, just hung out. Got to know each other.” Shaking my head, I added, “And you were obsessed with showing me every freakin’ movie from the eighties.” He laughed, and his smile was contagious. How I missed that sexy, lopsided grin. “You tried to teach me pool and soccer, but no go. Sorry, but even in my dreams, I suck.
“We talked about school a lot too. The differences between my private and your public, and where we wanted to go to college.”
“Where did you end up going anyway?”
“Community school near Yale.”
He looked at me like I was freakin’ nuts. “You went all that way for a community college? You know, they have one in Rutland. Probably a hell of a lot cheaper too.”