The nurse comes running as I hit the ground. “Hey, Zadie! Out of bed so soon? We were going to give those legs a chance to get stronger.”
I look at him in confusion. “I run track,” I say. I don’t appreciatebeing told my legs look weak. And yes, it’s the offseason, but I’ve kept running consistently.
The nurse chuckles, then helps me the rest of the way to the bathroom. He gives me privacy and talks from outside the door as I pee, stand, and very slowly, very carefully make it to the sink.
As soon as the water starts running, he’s on my case again. He opens the door to “help” me. But I’m focused on the reflection in the mirror. I look haggard. A massive bandage on my head. Fading bruises on my face.
“What happened to my head?” I ask.
“You were in a little accident,” Nurse Patrick says.
He helps me get back in bed.
Later that afternoon, during visiting hours, I ask Jason the most important question. “What happened? How are you fine?”
What happened tome?
“What do you remember?” Jason asks, and I know him well enough to know he’s being careful. There’s something he doesn’t want me to say out loud. The breakup? It’s a good thing we’re on the same page about that, but what I want to know about is when he nearly died in the hospital. I need to understand how he’s okay, how he’s here.
“You couldn’t walk. You were about to die, and they were shocking you and your mom was here and your dad was there, and everyone was crying…”
Jason looks at my mom. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Zadie. Did you have a dream or something?”
I nearly laugh.
Adream. Hilarious.
“It wasn’t a dream,” I say.
Three bewildered faces are staring at me.
I switch tacks, turn to Mo. “Are you still mad at me?”
Mo is wide-eyed. “Me? Why would I be mad at you?”
“For…” I’m suddenly not sure how comfortable she is with me talking about what we discussed in front of everyone, so I just say, “Yesterday. At your house?”
Mom touches my face, more tenderly than she ever has. “Honey, you were in a coma yesterday,” she says. “And the day before. And the day before that.”
“You’ve been in a coma for weeks,” Amber says. “We were so scared.”
Now I’m seriously confused. “Is this a joke? I’m fine.Jasonwas the one in a coma.” I search their faces for any signs of laughter, but not one of them even comes close to breaking. “He’s been in a coma for…” I count the weeks. “Four weeks.”
Jason’s laugh must be one of confusion. “I don’t think so, Zad. I’ve been right here. Waiting for you to wake up.”
I sit up straighter, because this is getting seriously ridiculous. “Do you guys think this is funny or something? Jason had a head injury. Jason nearlydied.”
“No,” Mo says, “younearly died.”
I open my mouth to argue, but one more look at their faces and I know. They think they’re right.
“I don’t have a head inj—” I start to argue, but then I realize…I do. Or did.
But that was a temporary thing, something that triggered the migraines and dreams. I’m fine now. I haven’t had a real headache in…How long has it been? How long have I been in this hospital?
“I haven’t had a headache since Mrs.R asked me to come and see Jason,” I say. “That was the last one I had.”
“Mrs.R?” Mom repeats.
