45. Willow
WILLOW
The sound of something breaking, followed by a thud, is all that’s heard before Jeremy shouted Noah’s name. I had just pulled the hoodie on and was about to throw on the pair of his boxers when everything turned to chaos.
Jeremy screamed for me, and when I rounded the corner into the front foyer, all I saw was Noah passed out on the ground.
The small circular table that sat in the center of the foyer was shattered, and there was blood on the ground near his head.
Jeremy was practically in tears, screaming, trying to wake him up.
That was over two hours ago. We’ve been sitting at St. John Moross since then. Jeremy has been on the phone for the last ten minutes with Noah's dad. He doesn’t even seem to care that his son is unconscious.
I glance down at my hands, and I can still see the faint traces of blood along my nails.
Noah’s boxers that I’m wearing are sticking to my legs from the drying blood coating my thighs.
Thankfully, one of the nurses gave me a pair of hospital socks because I was barefoot when we came in.
I sat in the back seat with him all the way to the hospital with his head on my lap.
“Willow. Oh my God.”
Jenna comes rushing over and pulls me in for a hug. She runs her fingers through my hair, smoothing it, trying to comfort me like she always does.
“Is there any update? Here. I brought you some clothes and your shoes.”
She hands me the bag as I shake my head no. Not a single person has come out to give us an update, and I’m freaking out.
“What the fuck happened?”
She glances over at Jeremy, who’s still on the phone. He finally sees her and nods before turning his attention back to the phone.
“When Jeremy came in, we were kind of…well, we were naked on the couch, and Noah panicked when he went to get up and ended up falling and hitting his head really hard on the coffee table.”
“Jesus. He passed out from that?”
“No. Well, it’s a granite coffee table. The thing is fucking giant.
He was bleeding and very dizzy. We convinced Noah that after Jeremy dropped me off at home, he would let him take him to the hospital to get checked out.
I guess as he went up the steps, he blacked out.
He fell back and landed on a small table and his head hit the floor. ”
I can feel the tears stinging my eyes. She takes both my hands in hers and brings them together.
“He's going to be okay. Football players get hit in the head all the time. He probably just has a concussion.”
She’s trying to remain positive, but she isn’t the one sitting here with her lap covered in his blood. I fucking hate the feeling of blood on my skin.
“I need to go change.”
I pull my hands from hers and silently walk down the hall to the bathroom.
I soak a stack of paper towels, knowing I’ll need all of them to clean my legs.
I take everything into the largest stall and peel the boxers away from my skin as I remove them.
My thighs are coated in dark, sticky, mostly dried blood.
My stomach flips, and my mouth fills with saliva as my body threatens to throw up everything I had for breakfast.
I pull the hoodie off, and it drops loudly to the floor.
I manage to clean the blood off my skin before throwing on the pair of black leggings, a tank top, socks, and my sneakers that Jenna brought me.
She brought me my favorite hoodie and I slip it on before finally allowing myself to breathe.
The sound of the bathroom door opening has me stifling my tears.
I already know it’s most likely Jenna so I unlock the stall door.
“Babe, you okay? You’ve been in here a while,” Jenna asks as she leans against my stall's door.
“I don’t understand it, Jenna.”
“Understand what?”
“How can I care so much for someone I just met? How can I feel so connected to him already?” I ask as I step out of the stall and wipe under my eyes.
“You feel like that with Noah? Already?”
She sounds shocked, and I shoot her a disappointing grimace. I figured that she, of all people, would understand this.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to sound shocked, Willow, it’s just…I’ve known you for years now. You’ve hardly dated anyone and barely have made any friends. Are you sure you’re not just feeling worried because you were there when he got hurt?”
“No. It was way before that. I felt the connection that first night when he kissed me. Then after this morning and everything…I’m fucking crazy, aren’t I?”
“No. You know I’m a firm believer in love at first sight and finding your soul mate. So no, you’re not crazy. You just might be in love.”
I can't control the way I roll my eyes and scoff when she says that, then we both start laughing.
“Listen, if he is your Prince Charming and soul mate, I’m going to be so jealous,” she teases as she grabs the bag holding the blood soaked clothes.
“Why?”
“Because they always say you have to go through the worst to get to the best, and well, you skipped the worst. You didn’t have to deal with any of that shit, and the universe just plops Mr. Right into your lap.”
We walk out of the bathroom with me feeling a little bit better and Jenna feeling a bit more jealous. Jeremy is now sitting with his elbows propped on his knees and his head in his hands.
“Jeremy? Is everything okay?”
“No. I'm freaking out. No one’s giving us an update. And my fucking uncle doesn’t give a shit that his son is in the hospital.”
Jenna quickly sits down next to him and hesitates before pulling him in for a hug. I know that he and Noah are close. He told me that he pretty much only had Jeremy after his mom died. They’re more like brothers than cousins.
“It’s going to be okay. Like I told Willow, football players get hit in the head all the time and only end up with minor concussions.”
“Yeah, but the thing hitting them in the head isn’t a three-hundred-pound table of solid granite. Stupid fucking thing.”
“Mr. Anderson?” a doctor asks from the doorway of the waiting room.
“Yes?”
“Can you come with me, please?” He seems hesitant when he looks over at me, and my heart stops beating.
“Can she come too?” Jeremy asks, gesturing to me.
“Is she family?” he asks Jeremy, as if I can’t answer for myself.
“She’s his girlfriend,” he lies.
“I’m sorry, sir. But right now only family is permitted.”
“But…” Jeremy starts, but I cut him off.
“It’s okay, Jeremy. Go talk to him. Give him a hug for me and let him know I’m here.”
I try to sound reassuring to him, but my voice cracks when the doctor looks over at me, then quickly turns away before walking toward the locked double doors.
He needs to be okay. He has to be.