The nurse again. “Did you hear what I said?”
“What was that?”
“I said—”
“No, not you. I think Sage said something.” What is Casey doing here?
I force my eyes open despite the bright lights.
“Turn off the lights,” he says.
After some grumbling, the nurse turns them off.
I blink slowly and open my eyes. Casey towers over the bed, clutching the guard rails. His hair is sticking out from all ends. His eyes are red and there are lines around them I hadn’t noticed before.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper. There’s something around my nose, oxygen I think, and I turn my head to pull it away.
“Shh,” he says and stills my head with a touch of his finger at my chin. “Don’t move. You’ve been in a car accident.”
I blink, confused. I don’t remember driving. I remember walking to the corner bodega to grab some snacks for the plane ride to California. Then I don’t remember anything else except for excruciating pain all over my body.
“Am I okay?”
He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. You’re going to be fine. You just need to rest now.”
“Why are you here?” I ask.
His smile doesn’t falter. “I can’t imagine being anywhere else right now.”
His answer and his smile warm my chest, but something seems wrong. “Did you pitch? Did you win?”
He nods. “The Jets won the first game.
I smile and close my eyes. That’s good. I’m glad he didn’t miss it.
“Rest,” Casey whispers while he grabs my hand. “I’m going to be right here watching over you. You don’t need to worry about anything.”
His words soothe my mind and my heart. I fall back into the darkness and let my body sink into the bed. It’s a calmness I don’t think I’ve experienced even in a deep meditative state. Casey’s touch keeps me grounded as I fall into a quiet abyss.
*
The next time I wake up, the sun is shining through the tall window of my white hospital room. I can spot several tall buildings, but the sun is peaking above them. It must be early morning, but Casey sits beside me. His hand is still holding mine, he’s still wearing the same black T-shirt, and his hair is a mess. Only his eyes have changed. If possible, they look even redder than before.
“Hey,” I say, groggily. My tongue feels larger than usual, and drier. “Can I have some water?”
Casey pushes his chair back and frantically looks for water. I smile at his carelessness when he knocks the bottle over. He must be exhausted.
He returns to my bedside with a large cup of water and a straw, but I can’t seem to move my neck to reach for it. “One second,” he says and brings the straw closer. “There.”
I take a sip and it feels as though tiny shards of glass run down my throat. I wince and move my head to the side, done with the water.
“What happened?” I ask, realizing now that something must have happened on my way to the bodega. I recall a car driving toward me, but I thought he was going to stop at the red light. I only get bits and pieces of memories and I see the car getting closer and closer until it—
“The cab hit me, didn’t it?”
Casey nods.
“Then what happened?”
