Dream Gone Wild Page 2

  I tripped over my heels and toppled backward.

  I registered a hard, sharp blow to the head, and then Todd disappeared.

  Everything did.

  Chapter Two

  I opened my eyes with a groan and blinked groggily at the recessed lights. So bright.

  “Wha—?” I started to ask but stopped when I discovered my throat felt like a sandpaper slide.

  Squinting into the room, I spotted my mom just as she popped up from a faux leather chair by a window.

  “Rae.” She rushed to my side, reaching out to touch my hand then pulling back to run her fingers along my shoulder instead. “Oh my God,” she whooshed out. “You’re awake.”

  I took her in. Her long blond hair, a darker shade of mine, was piled up on top of her head in a messy top knot. Her eyes were swollen and sunken, dark circles like smudged eye shadow under her lower lids.

  “I-I can’t believe you’re finally awake. I’ll need to let your dad know.” She ran back to the chair to grab her phone and began tapping on it like she’d forgotten how to use the buttons on cells. Her hands were shaking. “And your sister. Everyone.”

  “M-mom?” I squawked. By then, I’d figured out I was in a hospital. It wasn’t hard. A monitor of some sort beeped steadily behind me, and the scent of antiseptic, sterility, and desperation was one I wouldn’t soon mistake. The walls were plain and medical equipment surrounded me. An IV snaked from the crook of my arm.

  “They said this would happen.” Mom’s stare was back on me, tracing every inch of my body. “You were going to come out of the coma, but I didn’t think it’d happen so soon. If not, your dad and Sam would’ve been here. Oh, wait. I should go tell the nurses. Hold on, honey. I’ll be right back.”

  But then Mom just stood there, staring some more, until she shook her head as if to clear it and shuffled to the door, pulled it open, and ran out, leaving the door ajar behind her.

  I swallowed, but my throat threatened to break.

  Attempting to examine myself before Mom returned, I tilted my head downward and soon regretted the movement. Not only did it feel like a knife was stabbing me in the head, but I was reasonably certain my head was wrapped or tied or … something.

  What the hell happened? Mom had said coma, hadn’t she?

  Afraid to try, but more afraid not to know, I wiggled my toes. They moved, and I let out a sigh of relief I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I clenched and unclenched my fingers and felt every movement.

  My heart swelled. Whatever had happened, at least I still had all my limbs. That was something.

  Tilting my gaze while trying to move my head as little as possible, I couldn’t tell much. I was covered with blankets up to my collarbone. From what I could see, I appeared to be fine-ish.

  Mom came racing back in with a nurse hot on her heels.

  “Hey there, Rae,” a tall woman with chocolate skin, cornrows, and a brilliant smile said as she swept in, coming straight to my bedside. She spoke over her shoulder as she checked the readouts on monitors, fluttering around me, moving behind the bed where I couldn’t see her without shifting my head.

  “I’m Destiny,” she said, “one of the ICU nurses. I’m glad to see you finally awake.”

  “Hi,” I croaked; that’s all I could manage.

  “I bet you’re plenty thirsty.”

  I didn’t nod, but instead gave her a weak smile of encouragement. My lips were tight; if I moved them much more they’d crack.

  “I just need to check another couple of things and then I’ll get you some water.”

  “I can get it,” Mom piped up.

  “That’d be great, Marin.”

  Mom rushed back out while Destiny withdrew a penlight from one of her pockets, lifted one of my eyelids, and shone it straight at me.

  Whoa. Warn a girl, won’t ya?

  Pushing my head back into the pillow, I tried to withdraw, tried to blink, but she wouldn’t let me.

  “Sorry, hon,” she said. “I know it’s not comfortable, but it’ll tell me a lot about how you’re doing.”

  Once my eye stung and watered sufficiently for her satisfaction, she tortured me on the other side too.

  Mom ran back into the room, sloshing a gigantic plastic cup of water with a thick bendy straw. Ice rattled against the sides. When Destiny made room for her to press the straw to my lips, I sucked water down greedily.

  Until it lodged in my throat. Wincing as I swallowed thickly, I grew more measured in my drinking.

  “Yeah, it’s bound to hurt for a little bit,” Destiny said, tucking her penlight back in her violet scrubs. “You were on a ventilator and they always leave things a little raw.” She patted me on the shoulder as she busied herself checking my IV line and running a digital thermometer across my forehead. “You’ll start feeling better real soon now that you can drink.”

  But my attention was on Mom, not the friendly nurse. Mom was crying, silent tears rolling down her tired face.

  She clutched her phone—a new one, from the look of it—in one hand, where it seemed forgotten.

  “Mom,” I croaked like a bullfrog, “is … am I all right?”

  “I think you’ll be fine now.” But she didn’t look sure. In fact, her gaze swept from me to Destiny, as if waiting for the nurse to deliver the verdict.

  Sure enough, once Destiny finished emptying a bag, which turned out to be a bag of my urine—allow me to die of mortification now, thanks very much—Mom shuffled over to her.

  “Well? How is she?”

  Destiny looked at her watch, then made a few final notes on a clipboard before returning it to a hook at the foot of the bed. “Her vitals are stable, which is great. From what I see, so far so good. The fact that she’s talking and remembers you is great news. But we’ll have to wait for the neurosurgeon to tell us how she came out of this.”

  “Neurosurgeon?” I whispered so softly I wasn’t sure anyone would hear me.

  Yet they both did, turning toward me.

  “I’m going to go page him now, see if he’s available,” Destiny said. “If he is, you’ll have news right away.” Facing my mom, she added, “If he’s in surgery or something, you’ll just have to be patient and wait. You know what that’s like. Emergency patients come first.”

  Mom nodded heavily, seeming decades older. “Just, will you let me know once you find something out one way or the other?”

  Destiny smiled. “Sure, hon.” Then she opened the wide door and disappeared behind it.

  “Mom?” I asked. “What happened? What’s going on?”

  Her eyes scanned my face as if searching for something. “You don’t remember?”

  I went to shake my head, then stopped at the fresh reminder of why that wasn’t a good idea. My head ached like I had a raging hangover.

  “You hit your head, sweetheart. Pretty hard.”

  “How? Was I in some kind of accident?”

  “You fell and hit your head against the corner of a wall. It was one of those freak things. You actually got really lucky. Todd found you right away and the neurosurgeon put you in an induced coma immediately to limit brain swelling. He thinks there’s a good chance you’ll come back from this without long-term damage.”

  “He thinks I will?” I said, skipping right over everything else.

  She shrugged, and the expression was so burdened, so sad, that I restrained myself from unleashing the gazillion questions racing through my mind. Like who the hell was Todd?

  “He said if you woke up on your own, then there’d be a decent chance you’d get out of this without serious problems. The swelling in your brain came down, and he eased you out of the induced coma a couple of days ago. But then you didn’t wake up on your own. He said it could take a while, but still.” She chewed on her lip. “He told us it was possible you might have to relearn basic skills like talking and walking, though it wasn’t all that likely because of where your brain got hurt. But”—she smiled, and the expression lit up her tired face—“based on
talking to you now, I think you’re going to be just fine.”

  As if suddenly remembering her phone, she pulled it up again, tapping the screen. “Thank God Todd found you when he did. He’ll forever be my hero. The neurosurgeon said any delay could have led to a different result, even … even death.”

  She blinked tears away rapidly while I chewed on what she said.

  “Who’s Todd?”

  Her brows arched in alarm. “You don’t remember Todd?”

  “Nooooo.” I drew the word out. “Who is he?”

  “Uh, just rest, sweetie. I’d better call your father. He’ll want to know you’re awake right away.”

  “Okay,” I said, starting to feel numb. “How long have I been out?”

  “Almost three weeks.”

  “Three weeks?” I repeated, deciding I was definitely numb already.

  She nodded and spoke in a rush. “Don’t worry, my sweet Rae, three weeks isn’t that long, not when it could’ve been so much worse.” She patted my leg, and I was relieved to feel her hand beneath the thin blanket.

  “We’ll help you catch up on what you missed and one of us will be there with you every step of the way until you get all the way better.”

  “So I just have a hit to the head, nothing else? Everything else is working fine?”

  She squeezed my leg. “Yes. We got really lucky.”

  “But I’ll have to miss volleyball finals?”

  “Volleyball finals?” Her forehead scrunched. “You mean … the high school state championship?”

  Her voice was pitched too high.

  “Of course,” I answered cautiously. “What else would I be talking about?”

  Mom brought the phone in front of her face another time, her hands definitely shaking. “Let me just call your dad, sweetie, then we can talk. And Sam. She was out of town on one of her trips—she canceled some of them when you had your accident, but she couldn’t cancel all of them. Some of the flights and events were nonrefundable. She’d risk losing her business if she canceled and her clients lost money. I told her to go, that we’d take care of you while she was gone.”

  Mom’s expression fell at whatever she saw in my face.

  “Don’t worry,” she hurried to say, “I’m sure Sam can drive right over.”

  “But … Sam doesn’t drive. She only just got her learner’s permit. And what about Jace? Where’s he?”

  Mom stared at me for so long I wondered if maybe the brain injury I sustained did have me talking gibberish. I sounded fine to my own ears, but I imagined people with brain issues seemed fine to themselves just as crazy people probably didn’t realize they were crazy.

  “Just let me make these calls. I won’t be long. I’ll have Sam call everybody else.” By everybody else she meant my aunts, uncles, and cousins. “Do you want some more water before I leave?”

  “Yes please.” I took several more careful swallows. Then she cast a final look over her shoulder at me as she brought the phone to her ear, pulling the door tightly shut behind her.

  Because everyone needed privacy from their daughter to deliver good news...

  I sank into the bed and waited. Whatever news would eventually come, I doubted I was going to like it. Mom was a terrible actress.

  Chapter Three

  I didn’t immediately understand what exactly was wrong when Dad and Sam arrived at the hospital.

  Mom ushered them into my room then stepped to one side of my bed, saying, “See! She’s awake. Isn’t that just the best news?” Her voice was too upbeat, too cheery for her exhausted face.

  Dad walked to the other side of my bed and dipped to kiss me on the forehead, below the bandages I discovered I had. “Hey, Cricket. You gave us a scare. I’m so glad you’re still here with us. And that you’re okay!” He shot a look at Mom across the bed. “Who knew law firm parties could be so dangerous, huh?” He laughed, but it was his nervous laugh.

  As happy as I was to see Dad, my gaze was stuck on Sam.

  Sam, my little sister by two years, had grown boobs—big boobs!—and her hair was auburn-tinted instead of its usual blond. But more than that, she’d grown. She was taller and more filled out, like she’d aged since I last saw her … three weeks ago.

  I closed my eyes for a few beats then opened them again.

  Yep, Mom and Dad still looked exhausted … and older now that I started to notice. And Sam … Sam looked like she was rocking her twenties.

  She was fifteen!

  “Okay,” I started, “either this is some kind of post-coma, drug-induced hallucination or I’m having some kind of movie moment.”

  “Hey, Rae.” Sam squeezed one of my feet over the covers like I hadn’t spoken.

  “See!” I pointed at her hand. “You never touch my feet. You think my feet are gross.”

  “Yeah, when we were girls.” Even so, she withdrew her hand and wiped it along her jeans. Jeans that were tight and curve-hugging.

  When did she get so curvy?

  “Even though I don’t want to sound like I’m in Back to the Future or Big or something, what year is it?” I asked.

  Those movies had taught me valuable lessons. Like cut to the chase to figure facts out fast.

  Sam exchanged loaded looks with Mom and Dad before finally saying, “What year do you think it is?”

  “Nah-ah. No dodging. I asked first.”

  “Fine.” She pinned her eyes on mine. “It’s 2020. What year’s it for you?”

  I heard her follow-up question, but I barely registered it. My mind was stuck on 2020 like I was a skipping vinyl record with a deep groove etched into it.

  “Sweetie,” Mom whispered, “what year do you think it is?” Hope and fear rode her question in equal measure.

  Swallowing thickly, I shook my head, winced, and stopped. “May I have more water please?”

  Mom moved robotically to fulfill my wish, but tears rimmed her lower lids.

  I dragged my labored sips out. My throat was a bit less tender, but it still hurt to swallow.

  “Rae, you can’t leave us hanging like this,” Sam said. “You have no idea what these last few weeks have been like for us. We didn’t know if you were ever going to wake up.”

  “Thank God Todd showed up at the hall and found you, or you might never have woken up,” Dad said.

  “I don’t know who Todd is.” Even I could hear how empty my voice sounded.

  “He’s your fiancé.” Dad flicked a look at Mom that communicated so much else that he didn’t say.

  “My fiancé?” I echoed hollowly.

  “Yeah,” Dad said, but by then it was clear that not only was something wrong, something was seriously wrong.

  And all of us in my hospital room knew it.

  “Where’s Jace?” I asked, my heart frozen in my chest.

  Dad swallowed visibly. “We’ll explain everything that we can. Later.” He turned to Mom. “When’s Doctor Gibbs coming to see her?”

  “Destiny says it might be another hour or more before he can get here. There was a pile-up on the freeway that left several injured. He’s been in surgery for hours.”

  “What did he do to me?” I blurted. “He operated on my brain?”

  Mom and Dad nodded, continuing to bounce between looking at each other and looking at me, but Sam’s stare didn’t move. It was all on me, all the time.

  “He, what, he cut open my skull?” My voice was too shrill.

  “He only had to saw out little pieces,” Dad said. “It’s not as big of a deal as it sounds, you’ll be fine.”

  “Dad, sawing out, skull, and fine do not belong in the same sentence. Like ever.”

  Someone knocked on the door. “Is it okay to come in?” It was Aunt Donna, Mom’s sister. I’d pick out her voice anywhere, even after a brain injury.

  After yet another exchanged look with Dad, Mom rushed to the door, opened it a crack, and when Aunt Donna attempted to push through, she pushed back, leading her in the opposite direction. The door clicked shut behind th
em like the gavel of judgment.

  I heard Aunt Donna gasp and exclaim, and then a chorus of other voices behind her, likely her husband and their three children. Our cousins were younger than Sam and me, but after looking at Sam, who knew. The voices were no longer those of annoying little brats.

  “I’m going to go tell them to quiet it down, okay?” Dad’s intelligent gaze was on me, studying me. He always seemed to understand what was going on inside me, though I doubted he did now. How could he? I had no idea what the hell was going on.

  Was time travel a real thing? Had I lost my mind? The hour before Doctor Skull Cutter arrived would be endless.

  The instant Dad was gone, the voices hushed behind the closed door, and Sam took a seat on the edge of the bed.

  Her mouth was pinched behind its cherry lip gloss. “Rae … you need to tell us. What year do you think it is?”

  “Let me put it this way, Sammy. Last time I saw you, you were wearing a training bra and braces.”

  She blinked. “Tell me you’re shitting me.”

  “I wish I could so damn hard, you have no idea.”

  “So you somehow got stuck in the worst times of my life.”

  My smile was wobbly. “Isn’t that just the best? I think Doctor Doolittle drilled in the wrong place.”

  She shook her head. “No, the doc saved your life. Or, well, maybe he did. Either way, he’s too hot to mess up like that.”

  I laughed, surprising myself. “Ow. That hurts. Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Just wait till you see the doc. You’ll forget all about how you’ve apparently lost a decade or so of life.” She said it breezily, the way she did when she was about to lose her shit and wouldn’t let herself. “He’s, wait, what would I’ve said back then? He’s dreamy?”

  “You’d say he’s da bomb dot com, and I’m totally sure of it because you just said it about Stevie Black yesterday.” I grimaced. “Or, my yesterday anyhow.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Stevie Black. I haven’t thought about him in years. I had a huge crush on him, remember?” She caught herself and frowned. Laughing awkwardly, she added, “He’s probably fat and ugly now. Or maybe he’s still da bomb dot com. Maybe I need to look him up.” She waggled her eyebrows.