“Hey, loser.” Sam sits down on the side of Noah’s bed. “How do you feel?”
“Like shit,” Noah says, but he’s smiling.
“Yeah, I bet. Giving the nurses a hard time?”
“No. They’re all in love with me.”
“Sucks for them, huh?”
They both laugh; Noah’s all wheezy and gasping. He stops and takes deep, pained breaths, squirming uncomfortably, and then his eyes lock with mine, and I feel all light-headed with nerves.
“Easy on the ribs, there, kid,” Sam says.
Noah ignores him. “Chelsea?”
This was such a mistake. I shouldn’t have come, but it’s too late to back out now, isn’t it?
“Hi,” I say timidly. He just stares at me like my presence isn’t fully registering, so I glance toward the door and say, “I can go, if you want. I didn’t mean—”
“No.” He wheezes for a few breaths. “Stay.”
Sam looks from me to Noah. “I’m going to wait outside, okay?”
Noah nods, and when Sam passes me, I want to latch on to his arm and say, don’t leave me, but I know I really shouldn’t. I know I have to do this, because no matter how painful it is for me, it’s ten times worse for Noah, and he stills wants to talk, for whatever reason. He deserves the opportunity to tell me how much he hates me to my face.
My eyes are still on Sam walking through the door when Noah says, “I thought you were taking a vow of silence?”
The question startles me. How did he know about that? “I am. Well, I was,” I begin to explain, but of everything there is to say, that seems so unimportant. I can’t sit here and pretend to make small talk with him. “I know you hate me,” I blurt out, all in a rush, and then stop because I don’t know what comes next.
Noah blinks at me, surprised. “I don’t—” he starts, before dissolving into a racking coughing fit. The sound is like someone stabbing me in the heart. Repeatedly. “I don’t…hate you,” he says between harsh breaths.