Page 5 of Colliding Hearts


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“S’okay. Some clients are…” What’s the word? “Snobs. But others…”

There’s a gap. Suddenly, Jared is asking me something else, and I don’t know how we got here.

“Just clothes,” I mumble, but even through the fog, I know it’s more than that.

There’s silence. Or maybe I drifted off. Jared’s voice cuts through the fog, urgent.

“Felix! Open your eyes for me.”

Did I close them? When?

“That’s it. Stay with me. Can you wiggle your fingers for me? Both hands? Fingers,” Jared repeats. “Move them for me.”

My right hand barely responds. My left hand screams in protest, but moves.

“Good. Now your toes?”

“Can’t…can’t tell.” Everything below my chest feels wrong, compressed. “Shoes too tight.”

“That’s okay. The fact that you can feel the shoes is good. You’re doing great, Felix.”

“Do I get…sticker?” The memory surfaces randomly. “Like at the doctor’s…”

“Fresh out of stickers, I’m afraid.”

“Liked the…scratch ones. Smelled like…” What did they smell like? The thought dissolves.

“I just need to check the padding on your cheek. Might sting a bit.”

A bit turns out to be an understatement. It’s like someone’s pressing a hot iron against my cheek while simultaneously scrubbing it with broken glass. The pain radiates out in waves, each one making my eyes water so badly I can’t tell if I’m crying or just leaking.

Sound tears out of me—not quite a scream, not quite a sob.

“Squeeze my hand. As hard as you want.”

I do. Or I think I do. Hard to tell what my right hand is doing anymore.

“Hurts,” is all I can manage. One word. That’s all I’ve got.

“You’re doing so well,” Jared says.

“Drugs?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything stronger than paracetamol, and I can’t give you that with a potential head injury.”

“You don’t have drugs? Budget cuts?”

I can feel the puff of Jared’s laughter on my face.

“I’m actually off-duty right now. I just happened to be one of the first people on the scene. I’ve only got my off-duty kit with me.”

I manage a short, sharp laugh, although it sends a jolt of pain through me.

“My mum will laugh.”

“Why will your mum laugh?”

“Says I’ve always been lucky.”