Uh..teenage boy topics like sports and cars and video games were not my specialty. Robert learned right away not to bother.
“Oh!” exclaimed Margaret. “I know something you have in common.” She reached behind her and pulled a large binder labeled Evan Gilden. She flipped it for a few pages, scanning the paperwork with her finger. “Yep! I’m not crazy. You and Evan were both admitted into the ICU on the same night. And you both died and came back to life at the same time in the field.”
“What?!” I blurted, completely flabbergasted. What were the odds in that happening? Ever!
“Yeah. I remember all this now, because I noticed it when you were both admitted to my ward. You were still under water drowning when that girlfriend of yours called 9-1-1, and her time of 7:37 PM was recorded in your file. Evan was in a car accident and died on the scene as paramedics were working on him at 7:38 PM. And if I’m recalling correctly, you were both brought back to life about three minutes later.”
“That’s just freakin’ crazy.”
Margaret wiggled her forehead up and down a few times. “That got your fancy yet? Do you want to meet him?”
“I don’t really consider it meeting, but yeah, I’ll go check him out. 34B, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I rounded the corner of the nurses’ station and traveled the hall until I came upon room thirty-four. The first bed was empty, and the second, bed B, was hidden behind the pull curtain. Unsure if a family member was behind it, I called out quietly, “Hello?” When no one answered, I confidently stepped to the other side and looked to the bed’s occupant.
“Chance!” I cried. I threw my hands to my mouth and stumbled backwards, tripping over a chair and nearly falling over it.
No, no, no, NO! No freakin’ way!
My body went into full blown panic mode. My heart spit out three beats for every one, my body began to sweat and feel all clammy, and my lungs expanded and shot out the air so fast I was practically hyperventilating. My head rocked back and forth as I looked at the familiar face that lay awkwardly on the pillow.
There was no way this was Chance.
The names don’t even match.
Sure he looked exactly like Chance but there was absolutely no way, no how, some coma boy who’s probably not even hanging out in his own head would be circulating around in mine! Right?!
But he totally…gasp.
Freakin’…gasp.
Looked like him though.
He was a little paler than I was used to, and his muscles weren’t as defined after being in a coma for God knows how long, and his hair seemed duller, like it had lost all its shine.
But this was him.
Well, not him.
But him. As exact in appearance as I think one could get.
My hands trembled as I forced them away from my mouth and my lips were left to quiver on their own. I slowly inched closer to the head of the bed. I fearfully reached up to open one of his eyelids, pulling my hand back several times, like he was a snake that was gonna hiss and snap at me. I gasped and let go quickly once I got it opened. Evan, too, had moss green eyes speckled with gold around the iris.
“This is just creepy,” I muttered aloud for some reason.
“Right?” answered Margaret, who suddenly pulled aside the curtain that was shielding me. I jumped a little but tried desperately to hide the anxiety ripping me apart on the inside at the moment. I couldn’t understand how she didn’t notice that my heart was bursting and thrusting my chest out so vehemently. “Jenna, Evan. Evan, this is Jenna.”
It was weird how she introduced us, like he could actually see and interact with us. She began reading and recording the machines that were hooked up to him and traded his IV pouch out for a new one. I used that time to steady my heart, my breath, my panic. I licked the lips my aggressive breathing had dried out. Very carefully, I tried my hardest to smooth my words out. “Margaret, is Evan going to wake up? What’s keeping him under?”
“Doctor doesn’t know. Like I said before, other than being in a coma for some reason, we can’t find anything wrong with him. Dr. Reynolds is confident there’s still a really good chance he’ll come around again. He tells the family that again and again when they come by to visit him.”
“That there’s a chance he’ll wake up? That’s what he always says?”
She looked at me curiously for a second, but swept it aside rather quickly. “Yeah, that’s what I said he says.”
“And you believe Evan can hear you?”
“I do, but Dr. Reynolds doesn’t. So if you see him, don’t mention it.”
She gathered her chart and smiled as she left. “Toodle-loo.”
I pulled the chair up to the bed and collapsed so my weakened legs wouldn’t have to bear the weight of my body any longer. I just watched him for a minute, with my hands buried in my lap and my fingernails digging in deep inside my palms. Slowly – very slowly – I found the courage to reach out my shaky hand and grab a hold of his. Oddly enough, it was as warm as I remembered from the dreams, and it felt familiar when I entwined my fingers with his.
I shook my head in disbelief, mocking myself.
I couldn’t believe I was about to do this.
Seriously. I was gonna talk to a coma boy. As if there’d be any chance he had something to do with my dreams.
Stupid.
I took a deep breath and said quietly, “I don’t know if you recognize my voice but I think there may be a chance we’ve met before.” I huffed. “Chance. There’s that word again. The one I think you hear quite a bit around your bedside. And I’m thinking you’ve latched onto that word more than the others.
“But if I really think that, then I have to believe that you actually are the Chance in my dreams and not just some figment of my imagination. And if it is you…what does that even mean? Do I need to get my head scanned again? Or am I just off my rocker? Booby hatch material?”
I bent his arm up and brought his knuckles to my cheek. They were rough and dried out, every crease highlighted white with dead skin cells.
“You know what really scares me?” I asked, my heart sinking in my chest now, smothered heavily with depression. “Let’s just say that in this one in a trillion chance–” I paused and rolled my eyes at saying that word again, “that you’re the guy in my dreams. It means that you’re really real. And that all the times I’ve been with you, I’ve been cheating on my boyfriend. Like really cheating. Cause let’s face it, I pretty much let you have your way with me in there. I have no regard for right or wrong. I mean, why would I? There aren’t any consequences in there. No one to judge me for what I do. Seriously, I’ve never let Robert get away with anything like that out here. Most of the time I’m too scared to let him touch me that way.”
I reached out and stroked his cheek. “So please. Wake up and tell me that you’re not Chance, that I don’t have a head injury and that I don’t need anti-psychotics. And that I haven’t really been the absolute worst girlfriend ever to Robert.”
I went home early that night, telling Margaret I wasn’t feeling well. That wasn’t a lie. Ever since I’d sat down with Chance and just let my words flow like water, I felt absolutely miserable.
I wanted to check in with Sophie, just to make sure she didn’t bother to pick me up later. Of course Jhett was in our room, but I was so numb right now I didn’t even care that I was utterly humiliated earlier that day. God, had it really only been a few hours? Seemed like days now.
“You’re back!” Sophie said, all shocked when I walked in. Thank God they were clothed.
“Yeah.” I put on my best sick face (wasn’t too hard to fake at that particular moment) and said, “I don’t feel that well. Think I’m just gonna take a nap. Do you guys mind?”
Jhett scrunched his nose. “Did you catch something at the hospital?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Sophie pulled Jhett to his feet and led him to the door. “Feel better.” I gave her a weak smile and locked the door behind them. If there was a God up there that was on my side, he’d have them relay that message to Robert and he’d leave me alone for the night.
I didn’t really wanna sleep. My insides had been eating me up since I realized what a crappy-ass girlfriend I’d been to one of the nicest guys ever. Even if it was all just a dream, meeting Evan really brought to light what a crappy thing it was to imagine myself in the arms of another man every night.
God I suck.
I really wanted nothing more than to soak in a long, hot bath. I would’ve loved to have gone to the hot tub at the gym’s fitness center, but I was pretty sure it’d be full of people on a Saturday night with a temperature outside in the thirties. So I opted for the awkward bowl they had the nerve to call a tub in my bathroom. Seriously, I’m willing to bet the school got a big, fat discount just so the manufacturer could unload such a crappy product that never sold on the real market.
I filled the bowl with hot water and lit a few candles just so I didn’t have to stare up at that obnoxious fluorescent light that had a habit of making my skin look sickly and washed out. I snatched some of Sophie’s bath salts that she never used (cause who the hell would want to take a bath in this thing?) and sank my body as best I could (which wasn’t much).
A few minutes later I heard a knock at the door and groaned automatically. I knew exactly who that was. It was just like him to come check on me and see if I was alright. Damn my stubborn ass for not letting him get me that cell phone. It was hard to be mad at him for doing something so nice, but I was in such a crappy mood right now, I saw fault in everything. Why did he have to be so nice to me? I didn’t deserve it. I’m a [insert expletive here] (any will do, as they all describe me now).
I heard him call my name through the door and I just lay there quietly, ignoring him. He tried the door knob and when he couldn’t get through, he called my name out again. In another minute he’d think I was asleep and go away.
I released a deep breath and covered my eyes with a hot, wet wash rag. Dang, I should have turned on some music…Despite not being in the mood for a nap, my mouth kept yawning. At least there was no way I could drown in this sorry-ass tub, but if I fell asleep in here, I’d really regret it when I woke up. I’d have a crick in my neck and a hunch in my back all week.
After a few minutes, I realized the torment and aggravation wasn’t worth it. I yanked the rag from my face and practically jumped two feet when I saw Chance next to me, his head resting on the edge of the tub watching me. And I was no longer soaking in that horrible tub, but a deluxe jet spa model deep enough for two.
“Oh, crap,” I whined, and sank back down. I am asleep in that wretched bowl.
“What?” he asked, and he dipped his hand into the tub and traced the length of my thigh. Any other day before today and I would’ve let him act on the internal tickle I was feeling from that. But I couldn’t let him do that anymore.
“Could you please stop?”
“Stop what?” he teased, and continued his antics. I reached down, grabbed his hand and threw it out of the tub. Appalled, his eyes widened. “Wow. Bad day?”
I grabbed the hot rag next to me and covered my eyes again. “You have no idea.”
“You know, I’m pretty sure I can help you unwind a bit.”
His arms were suddenly rubbing the knots out of my shoulders, and I could feel a moan build within me and my restraint weaken a bit.
“Fine. You can massage my shoulders, but stay north of the water. You’re not allowed down south tonight.”
He let out a small laugh but obliged my request. After a few minutes of having my muscles rubbed down, the tension was relenting and I began to feel bad for snapping at him. I didn’t know why he was here or how he got here inside my dreams, but I truly didn’t believe he did it on purpose.
“Chance?”
He murmured, “Mmm-hmm.”
“Have you ever been in a car accident before?”
“No. Why?”
“No reason,” I said. “Does the name Evan mean anything to you?”
He paused, which piqued my curiosity. But I sighed with disappointment when he replied, “No, not really.”
“And you don’t have a brother right? Just a sister?”
“Just a sister.”
“What about the last name Gilden?”
“That’s my family name. But you knew that already.”
Actually, I didn’t. But now I really wished I had asked him that before today. At this point my brain already knew this information, and anything my imagination created would know this too. I needed to ask him something I didn’t know yet. Something I could verify at the hospital. Something that would confirm whether he was Evan or not.
Oh my God. Am I seriously giving this ludicrous idea validity? Jeesh. I was walking willingly toward the straight jacket.
“So when’s your birthday?” I tried to ask casually.
“March twentieth.”
“Oh, so you’re coming up?” I pulled the rag off my eyes and bent my head back to see him better. “We’ll have to do something to celebrate.”
He leaned down and kissed my forehead. The flickering candle light next to us actually made the random gold spots in his eyes light up interchangeably. “I’d like that.” He dipped and squeezed my rag and placed it over my eyes again. “But for now, keep soaking. You’ve got a lot of tension in your body.” He leaned down and the vibrations of his whisper tickled my ear. “And you won’t let me down there to help you release some of it.”