Am I dizzy? No.
How is my headache? Bad.
Am I nauseated? No.
Any ringing in my ears? No.
She examines my eyes again, and then excuses herself to go talk to the doctor on call.
“Alice?” Charlie’s voice sounds like a metal scrape.
I fiddle with the ID band on my wrist. “Nan and Bennett are okay?”
“They’re worried about you, but yeah. I put a frozen pizza in the oven and poured your grandmother a scotch. They’ll be waiting for you.”
I nod.
“Alice?”
Reluctantly, I lift my eyes to Charlie’s. He’s pale. Anxiety radiates from him in waves. We stare at each other, but then the nurse pops back in and announces that I’m okay to go home. She says to continue monitoring for signs of a concussion and then lists symptoms that would require me to call an ambulance.
“You look out for her, Charlie,” she says, giving him a pat on the shoulder. They’re about the same age.
“I will. Thanks, Meredith.”
Neither Charlie nor I speak as we walk across the parking lot, my arm looped through his to keep steady.
“I’m so sorry,” he says once we’re in the car. “I can’t believe I hurt you.” He’s staring out at the farm on the other side of the road, and the lake beyond.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
His eyes swing to mine, full of disbelief. “I wasn’t paying attention. And now look at you.” He lifts his fingers toward my temple, and I flinch. He drops his arm. “I could have lost you.”
I steel myself against how wrecked he sounds, reminding myself of what he said in the car.
We wouldn’t be good together, would we, Alice?
“It’s just a few stitches. It’s nothing.”
“You’ll have a scar.”
I shrug. “A tiny one.” The doctor said it should fade to almost nothing.
He runs his hands over his face. When he looks back to me, I can tell he wants to talk more, but I hold up my hands. Whatever he wants to say can be saved for later—my brain feels like mashed bananas.
“Can you take me back to the cottage?” I ask. “I just want to put on some clean clothes and see Nan and Bennett.”
Charlie nods and starts the engine.
“I’m spending the night with you,” he says a few minutes later as we pull into the driveway.
“That’s not necessary.”
“It’s not optional, either. I said I’d look out for you.”
He shuts off the car and faces me.
“I don’t want you to stay,” I say.
