by Max Hudson
“I didn’t?”
“No,” Luca said, shaking his head. “You didn’t. I was laughing at you.”
Brooklyn smiled again, though this time, he covered his mouth with his hand. “That’s okay,” he said. “I find that getting laughed at is pretty good for my ego.”
Luca shook his head again, a smile on his face. “Nevertheless,” he said. “I wasn't very kind.”
“That wasn't very kind. But you seem kind enough,” Brooklyn said, winking at him. For some reason, it made Luca’s cheeks turn red and hot. He tried to stare at his lap, wringing his hands over the blanket. The way he was reacting to the mildest form of a compliment was embarrassing, he thought. He wiped his hands on the blanket, because they were sweaty, and to try and make it seem like he wasn’t as nervous as he was.
“Is it okay if I join you?”
Luca nodded. “Sure.”
“My shift is over but I missed the last bus,” Brooklyn explained. “So I have to wait for the night buses to start.”
“Oh.”
“And I could go dick around on my phone, which was totally my plan, but I figure I could talk to you instead. Since I said I would check up on you and everything.”
Luca smiled at him. “Yes, please. Feel free to join me.”
Brooklyn smiled back as he sat down in the chair that his mother had just evacuated. When he sat down, his smile turned into a grin. He hadn’t stopped looking at Luca at all since they had first dissolved into a fit of giggles.
For the first time since Brooklyn had arrived, Luca thought that he might be feeling shy himself. There was a red tint to his cheeks that Luca hadn’t noticed before he sat down, though maybe that was just from laughing. It was probably just from laughing, after all. There was nothing for him to feel shy about in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” Luca said quietly. “Again.”
Brooklyn waved his hand in front of his face. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It's okay. I'm willing to admit that my laughter doesn't really go with the way that I look.”
“You just caught me off-guard, that’s all,” Luca said.
“I’m glad I made you laugh,” Brooklyn said. “I’ve heard you had a bad day today.”
“Oh, great,” Luca said quietly. “So rumors spread.”
“Actually, I was here when it happened,” Brooklyn said.
“You were?”
“Yeah,” Brooklyn said. “You don’t remember?”
Luca shook his head. “No,” he said. “To be honest, everything from when Derek left is kind of hazy.”
Brooklyn raised his eyebrows. “When your friend left?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s not my friend. He’s… well, I don’t know.”
Brooklyn cocked his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That sounds hard.”
“What sounds hard?” Luca said, narrowing his eyes.
“Well,” he said. “It’s hard when people around you don’t get that you need help. You know?”
“It’s not that,” Luca said, flashing him a smile. It didn’t feel like it reached his eyes, though. “I mean, I just had some expectations. You know?”
Brooklyn nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Luca shrugged. “I don’t know what to say,” he replied. “I mean, I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t want to burden you with anything.”
“Burden me? I’m asking you if you want to talk,” Brooklyn said, winking at him. “I’m sure I can rescind my offer if it becomes too much.”
Luca laughed. “Then you’ll stop liking me.”
“What makes you think I already like you?” Brooklyn said.
“I don’t,” Luca said, his gaze darting away from Brooklyn. “I don’t think you already like me. I just hope that you do.”
Brooklyn bit his lower lip. “Well, I can’t tell you that,” he said. “I’m just going to let you be in suspense. That seems like more fun.”
“Maybe for you,” Luca said.
Brooklyn winked at him. “Are you asking me out?”
Luca shook his head, a little smile on his face. “I’m not,” he said. “I mean, I don’t even know if I’m single, to be honest.”
Brooklyn frowned. “You don’t?”
“I don’t,” he said. “I mean, I kind of do. Intellectually, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that I’m single, especially after what happened today.”
“Intellectually,” Brooklyn echoed.
“Right,” he said. “But emotionally, it just keeps playing in my head, you know. Thinking that the last time I saw Derek was when I left our apartment. I keep wondering why he isn’t here and then I remember that he’s not supposed to be here.”
“I’m sorry,” Brooklyn said.
“It’s okay,” Luca replied. “I mean, the doctors are saying all this stuff about how I was so lucky. And I was, I know. I’m lucky to be alive. But I’m honestly dreading what’s going to happen next.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who I go home with,” Luca said. “What happens to me. What happens when I go back to work. What happens with my love life, you know. As if I had time to think about that.”
“Recovery is hard,” Brooklyn said, nodding. “Worth it, but hard.”
Luca sighed. “I think recovery is the only way forward. And honestly, part of me isn’t looking forward to it. Part of me just wants to stay in this hospital forever, hiding from my responsibilities. And that’s not good, is it?”
Brooklyn cocked his head. “It’s normal to be afraid of what’s coming next, Luca.”
“I’m not afraid,” Luca said. “It doesn’t reach that level of emotion. I’m just… I’m so tired. I just want to rest.”
“Yeah,” Brooklyn said, nodding. “That makes sense.”
Luca shook his head. “Anyway, sorry,” he said. “I’ve been talking your ear off. Partly it’s because I don’t want to worry my friends and family, you know? They’re already so concerned.”
“Yeah,” Brooklyn said.
Luca sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And honestly, I’m feeling like everything is wobbly, and the last thing that I want is for them to feel like they have to console me.”
Brooklyn nodded. “It’s very tricky,” he said. “After an accident. Everything feels wrong.”
Luca smiled at him. “Guess you have experience there.”
“Yes,” Brooklyn replied. “Not just professional experience. Personal experience.”
Luca’s eyes widened.
“It’s the reason I got into healthcare,” Brooklyn said. “Do you want to see something gnarly?”
Luca nodded. “Who could say no to an offer like that?”
Brooklyn grinned at him. “Okay, but for the record, you asked for this.”
“Duly noted,” Luca said.
Brooklyn leaned forward and started to roll up his pants. Luca watched him with anticipation as he finally managed to get his jeans right above his shins. Then he twisted his legs to reveal a scar that went from his ankle to almost his knee. Brooklyn hadn’t been joking; it was certainly gnarly.
The cut had been deep and the scar had barely faded. It was one huge, whitened vertical line that covered his skin in a way that almost looked like a tattoo. Luca breathed sharply the moment that he saw it.
“I know,” Brooklyn said. “I told you it was bad.”
“What happened to you?”
“Freak accident,” Brooklyn replied. “I’m okay now. The doctors told me the same thing that they told you.”
“What?”
“That I was lucky,” he said.
“Did you feel lucky?” Luca asked.
“I didn't know if I felt lucky,” Brooklyn said after a little while, taking a deep breath. He seemed to have had to really consider it before he answered, which Luca appreciated. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed honesty until it felt like no one was being honest with him.
Luca nodded. “That makes sense.”
Brooklyn shrugged. “But I wasn't the only one there, and other people weren’t as lucky as me. So in that way, I guess I was lucky.”
Luca nodded once again. He was curious, but he didn't want to push it. If Brooklyn had wanted to tell them what had happened, he assumed that he would have.
Brooklyn rolled down his pants and then flashed Luca a smile. “Anyway, this isn't about me. I just wanted to tell you that it's going to be okay.”
“Thank you,” Luca said.
“I know it feels like you’re alone,” Brooklyn said. “But you’re not. And honestly, it's a lot of work, but it's worth it.”
Luca smiled at him. For the first time since he had gotten to the hospital, he really did feel hopeful. “Thank you,” he said again. “Seriously.”
“It’s okay,” Brooklyn replied. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Kind of is,” Luca said. “You didn’t have to take the time out to talk to me.”
“I know,” Brooklyn said. “I wanted to.”
His phone started to ring in his pocket and he grabbed it, looked at it, and shook his head.
“Shit,” he said. “I need to go. Otherwise I’m going to miss the next bus.”
Luca nodded, swallowing. “Of course,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you to have to do that.”
“I hope the pep talk worked.”
“Definitely,” Luca said. He wanted to add something about how the view hadn’t hurt, but he thought it was probably better if he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to make Brooklyn feel uncomfortable. “Thanks again.”
“Any time,” Brooklyn replied, giving him another wink. “I hope you get out of here soon. It’s less scary than you think, you know, once you actually do it.”
“I hope so,” Luca said.
Brooklyn stood up and looked at his phone, then his gaze darted to Luca. When Luca’s gaze caught his, Brooklyn looked away.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Brooklyn said. “Forget about it. Good luck, Luca Harrison.”
“Thank you,” Luca said. “For everything.”
With that, Brooklyn turned around and left his room.
Chapter Three
Through a serious of arduous negotiations and making compromises that he didn’t want to make, Luca had managed to convince his parents—and his sister, whose sheer force of will was something to behold—that he wanted to go back to his apartment and that he was able to do that. He had admitted that it would be hard, but that didn’t matter.
He needed his bed. He needed his apartment. He needed to go back to his couch, and he needed his television. He hadn’t realized just how much he would miss some of the most minute things in his life, like his favorite mug, the one that said, “World’s Okay-est friend” on it. It was huge and perfect for his morning coffee and that was all that Luca needed it to be. He missed his coffee maker. In fact, just the idea of drinking coffee from his own coffee machine made his mouth water. Store-bought coffee was okay. Hospital coffee was terrible. But good, real coffee, that he could make in his expensive coffee machine, the one he had given himself for Christmas a couple of years ago… the very idea of it sounded like heaven to him.
It had taken a lot of work, but he had double downed on needing his independence. Ultimately, they couldn’t decide where he went. Only Luca could decide.
He was ready to throw a fit if they had made him think that he couldn’t go home, but luckily, they had seemed to understand, provided that they could cook him meals and come visit him every few days at the very least.
Luca had rolled his eyes at that, but he had ultimately given in. It seemed like a small price to pay in order to be able to go back to his very own apartment, to where things were familiar and real and his.
That didn’t mean that they hadn't gone into his apartment to clean it up for him before he had arrived. Not everything had been moved, but several things had been rearranged slightly “for accessibility reasons” according to his mother, who didn’t seem nearly as apologetic as Luca thought that she should be.
Luca had really wanted to go home so that he could be familiar with his surroundings but even walking into his apartment felt like he was stepping into something new and foreign to him.
He just wanted things to be normal again, but when he was confronted with his apartment, he realized that wouldn’t be the case. He walked to the kitchen to grab a drink and looked at the magnet calendar that his parents had put on the door of the freezer.
He opened his bottle of soda with his keychain—he was still heavily medicated and not allowed to mix alcohol with his drugs—and started to drink it, leaning back on the counter as he read off his new schedule.
The entire calendar had already been filled out. He still had another week off before he had to go back to work, but he assumed that his job would be mostly desk-bound since he would not be likely to be able to do most of the things that he normally had to do.
Part of his work in the warehouse had to do with the stock. He had to be fit, carrying things back and forth, moving things to display them in the front of the store. Part of his job were also demonstrations. That was the most fun part of his job, being able to show semi and fully professional teams exactly what they would be able to do with the sports kit that they sold Often, his sales meetings involved sports themselves.
It made sense, since that was the business he was in. All of his customers were sports lovers. He could take a few hits on the bonuses, he had made good money last year and his salary would carry him through, but his performance reviews were based almost entirely on sales.
He knew that his bosses would cut him some slack, because they weren’t unreasonable, but his work was competitive and he could hardly let something like a little accident stop him.
The problem was the stupid fucking calendar.
It was full of events. Every single one of his weekends was full of things that he had to do. Almost all of his evenings were taken up by some sort of event, whether it was with a physical therapist or with his occupational therapist.
That was what the neurologist had recommended after Luca had explained what had happened with Derek. He didn’t want to explain—it made him feel like an idiot—but he figured that the neurologist had to know the truth, if anyone did.
He hadn’t wanted to. It had made him feel stupid, like he hadn’t recovered, but he tried to tell her the truth. It would have been even more stupid to keep things from her, considering the circumstances.
He just wished that it didn’t take up all of his time. It was ridiculous that it would, it upset him to think that his recovery was going to be a full-time job. As of right then, he felt okay.
He didn’t feel great, but he didn’t feel bad. He just felt okay. He had been told by his doctor that he would start to feel worse before he felt better, but for the time being, things were fine.
He finished his drink and slammed it down on the counter behind him.
The doctors had also said something about trying to have a normal life, so when his phone vibrated in his pocket and he looked at his best friend name’s staring at him, he couldn’t just send her to voicemail.
“Hey, girl,” he said into his phone.
“Are you home? I was going to help you move, but your parents—”
“I know, Beth,” Luca said with a smile. “They are basically a hurricane.”
Beth chuckled. “I don’t know what I expected.”
“Neither do I,” Luca replied. “Are you coming over tonight?”
“Do you want me to?” Beth asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what I want. Part of me wants to spend the night pigging out and watching movies by myself, you know, just to enjoy my own company. But there are so many things that I need to talk to you about.”
“The thing with Derek?”
“You only know the headlines,” Luca said. “Did I tell you about the hot nurse?”
“You didn’t say anything about the hot nurse,” Beth
said. “I mean, you mentioned something about one of your nurses being super hot, but I thought you were just doped up.”
“I was doped up,” Luca said, shaking his head. “Maybe he was just a hallucination. I wouldn’t be surprised, with everything else that has been going on.”
“You’re not making him up,” Beth said.
“Am I not?” Luca said. “Because it feels like I am.”
Beth laughed quietly. “I just looked him up on the staff site of the hospital,” she replied. “His name is Brooklyn Andrews, right?”
“I don’t know his last name,” Luca said. “But Brooklyn isn’t really a common name for men, and if you’re seeing his picture—”
“I’m seeing his picture,” she replied. “Damn, you weren’t joking about him being hot.”
“Right?”
“Yeah,” she said. “He’s tasty. Is he gay?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. He had made his way into the living room and sat down on the sofa, groaning when he did.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I mean, all things considered. My muscles are just all croaky. I feel like I’m about thirty years older than I should be.”
“And you’re lucky.”
“Yup,” he said. “Very lucky. I don’t feel lucky, but that’s what people say anyway.”
She sighed. “Luca, are you feeling sorry for yourself?”
“A little bit,” he said. “I think I’m going to keep feeling sorry for myself for a little while.”
“Okay,” she said. “As your best friend, I can’t allow this.”
“What do you mean you can’t allow this?”
“I mean, I can’t let you stay home and mope,” she said. “Look, I couldn’t help you after the accident. Your parents wouldn’t let me help you move back.”
“That’s what they’re like.”
“So my job as your best friend is to take you out and make you stop feeling so bad about yourself,” she said. “How about shakes?”
“You want to go for a milkshake?”
He could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke again. “When you feel better, I’ll take you dancing.”
“That sounds good.”
“But for the time being, how about dessert?”
