literature

Free Fall: Chapter 10, prt 1

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I wish I could tell you that after the talk I had with Doctor Maxville, everything was okay. I wish I could say that shortly after Quinn was allowed to leave and I was able to witness my little boy dancing across the front yard of my parents’ home. I wish all that was so. You have no idea how much I wish it was…but I cannot lie to you. That’s the whole point of this tale. To not lie. To tell you the truth…to tell someone what actually happened.

In truth, fall break was too short of a time, but too long of one as well. The events that took place during it, have been seared into my memory. I cannot forget them.  

I cannot forget the first time I saw Quinn laying in that hospital bed. I cannot forget the doctor telling me that there was only a little chance of him surviving…I cannot forget what it felt like to be absolutely helpless.

It is difficult for me to accurately put into words what I felt those few days in October, or what I felt the months following them. Again, I get ahead of myself, however.

The first two days of break, I didn’t see my friends. I stuck myself in Quinn’s room, watching him, listening to the machines he was attached to…my breath caught each time the cardiac monitor was between beeps. I spent most of the day smiling, for Quinn’s benefit, and most of the night crying. Roxy had called multiple times to check up on me, and one time to ask for directions because she and the boys had gotten lost on an outing.

By the time Sunday rolled around, break was nearing a close and Quinn wasn’t showing any signs of getting well. If anything, it was becoming quite obvious that he was getting worse. They, the hospital staff, moved him from his room in the Intensive Care unit to a room in the children’s ward. This allowed for more visitors.

Most of the people who stopped by were from my home church, and each one brought with them words of encouragement and the desire to pray with my family. I spent so many hours praying. As sad as it sounds, I actually prayed more in that time then I had since I had left for college the year before. I had known for a while that my spiritual life had been declining, but I hadn’t really bothered to do anything about it. Until Quinn’s illness, I had been saying little popcorn prayers –you know, the quick little ones you shoot off every once in a while –and that was about it.

On that Sunday afternoon, the pastor of my home church had just left from stopping by to pray over Quinn. My parents had left me and my child alone while they walked the elderly man out of the hospital. It was the first time that day that I had been gifted with quiet.

I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the chair I sat in, and listened to the room. I allowed the steady beeping of the cardiac monitor to draw me into a state of semi-peace. Unconsciously, I matched my breathing with its beeping. Besides the machine and the soft ticking of the clock, the room was silent. Too silent.

I recall shifting restlessly. I was so uncomfortable in the stillness of the room. Unable to keep my eyes closed any longer, I opened them and stared at the relaxed face of my four-year-old, who was sleeping through the dose of pain killers a nurse had given him.  

Quinn looked so peaceful; so angelic. His wild curls were falling in front of his face, covering his closed eyes. I reached out, gently brushing aside the locks. Their strands left thin shadows across his porcelain skin. A smile pulled at my lips as I thought about the happy boy he used to be. He winced in his sleep, a small groan fleeing his lips, and my smile was gone.

“He’s cute,” a voice startled me, causing me to gasp as I quickly turned to look towards the door.

Silhouetted in the doorway, leaning against its frame in a casual manner, was Talon. As per usual, he had dozens of bracelets covering his arms, and his hair hung partially in front of the dark chocolate pools that were his eyes. His arms had been crossed, and his ankles as well. I wondered briefly how long he had been standing there for, but didn’t open my mouth to ask. I just watched as he pushed himself away from the door frame, closing the door in the process, and moved to the vacant chair that sat near the door.

As easily as picking up a doll, Talon lifted the wooden framed chair and placed it beside me. He dropped into the seat, his face scrunching up when he did. “_______ this thing’s uncomfortable.”

I nodded. “Try sleeping in it.”

“Think I’ll pass on that offer,” he laughed.

Quinn groaned, and I reached out to comfort him. My hand rested on his face and he instantly tilted his head into my palm. Both Talon and I were quiet for a bit. Neither of us spoke until suddenly his phone went off, playing a loud melody of guitars and drums. He pulled out his phone and checked the message that was written out on its screen.

A rough, nervous laugh escaped him. “I uh, forgot, but Chris asked me to see if you wanted any coffee. He and Roxy were going to get us all some before coming here.”

My face scrunched up in confusion. “They aren’t here with you? How did you get here if they have your car?”

“They dropped me off,” he stated.

I was hesitant to ask, but I really wanted to know so I let my question slip from me, “Why didn’t you just go with them?”

One black brow was raised as pale hands were pushed into denim pockets. “Eger to get rid of me? I thought after all that time you spent staring at me when we first met that you wouldn’t mind my presence.”

Color flooded my face. One of my hands came up to my mouth, where my teeth began bothering my nails. “Y-you knew about that?”

A smirk I can only describe as devious grew upon his face. “Hard not to. You weren’t very subtle.”

“Ah!” My jaw dropped. Surly I hadn’t been that obvious. I thought I had done pretty well keeping a low profile of my staring around him.

“If you ever plan on making stalking a career, you may want to reevaluate you skills.”

“That’s kind of…mean,” I looked down, not really sure what to say.

“Is it?” the smirk left his face.

I rolled my eyes, flashing him a small smile so he would know that I was merely joking. “Sorry about being such a creeper.”

He rocked back in his chair, balancing it on two legs while kicking his feet up to rest on the foot of Quinn’s bed. His arms went up to fold behind his head and the movement caused them to slide up, revealing a piece of white gauze that had been wrapped around his left wrist. “It’s no biggy.”

“Are you alright?” I asked. His brow furrowed and I pointed to his wrist in clarification.

“Oh,” he removed the arm from behind his head, turning it over so he was staring at the bottom of his wrist, “that. It’s nothing. Chris made me put it on. He’s like a mother hen. Always worrying.”

“I’m sure he had a good reason too. A mother hen doesn’t put a bandage on her chick if he isn’t hurt.”

“ ‘Tis but a scratch,” he spoke dramatically, and with a horrible British accent.

I busted out laughing, “Don’t do that again.”

“Doesn’t it please the Lady to hear me speak like this? I thought you girls like accents.” He continued on with his fake accent.

“Yeah, real ones. If acting is your choice of a career, you may want to reevaluate your skills.”

“Ouch,” he held a hand to his heart as if I left a physical blow there, dropping the British accent as he spoke. “It’s a low blow to throw my own words back at me.”

I just giggled, to which he smirked.

Talon’s phone went off again and he rolled his eyes. “It’s Chris. I’m almost sure of it. Want to save me the trouble of asking for your order a second time?”

“Technically, by asking me to save you the trouble from doing so you already have. But, yeah, I’ll take a white mocha, with an extra shot of espresso.”  

The ravenette typed my order into his phone before slipping the device back into his pocket and replacing his arms behind his head.

“Seriously, though,” I spoke up after a few moments. “Why didn’t you just go with them? It would have been quicker and you could have just texted me to see what I wanted.”

“Actually, I couldn’t have. I don’t have your number.”

“That’s right…” I trailed off, “but Roxy and Chris do. They could have texted me.”

“Maybe I wanted to be the one to ask.”

Now it was my turn for one of my brows to raise. “And why, pray tell, would you so deeply desire to do so that you would request to be dropped off here while they went on without you to purchase the glorious cups of caffeine?”

He looked at me. Like, really looked at me. Our eyes locked and seriousness fell across his gaze. When he spoke, his voice was firm, “Because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The way he said those words chased all thoughts of rebuttal from my mind. Yes, I could have pointed out that he would have known how I was once he arrived with our friends, but I was too shocked. Why would he care so much to come before them to check on my wellbeing? We weren’t close friends. We hardly knew each other. What was it that made him want to check on me? All these questions, all these thoughts, I wanted to voice, but they all ended up stuck in my throat, as he reached out –chair still perfectly balanced –to brush part of my hair behind my ear.

“Are you okay?” he spoke softly with worry lacing his words.

Slowly, I nodded.

He drew his hand back from me, replacing it behind his head. He seemed hesitant to do so, but he gave himself a nod and settled back into his balanced chair.

“Just making sure,” he stated.

We were silent. It felt like I spent most of my time around Talon being silent. In reality, I did. He wasn’t a very talkative guy and I wasn’t one to successfully start a random conversation. Thankfully, that time, Talon rescued us from the silence. He must had felt the weight in the air as I had.

“So, Quinn,” he began. “He’s not yours.”

“He’s mine,” I stated.

“But not biologically.”

I shook my head. “Not biologically.”

Again, silence, until, “If I ask what happened, would you tell me?”

“If I ask what happened to your wrist, would you tell me?” I inquired back, somewhat harshly.

He seemed to be considering my words. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On if they’re equal.”

“Doesn’t the mere fact that I haven’t told you about it show that it is of great importance to me? That I wish to keep it as confidential as you wish to keep the truth of what your bracelets hide?”

“You seem pretty sure that you know what my bracelets hide.”

“I have my suspicions.”

“Still, I don’t know if our answers are equal.”

“They aren’t,” I stated bluntly. “Mine weighs more than yours.”

“You know this how?”

“You ask me for the explanation of how I came to be Quinn’s guardian, I ask you for no explanation. I merely ask for you to tell me what you did to your wrist and what lays beneath your bracelets. I’m not asking why. I’m asking what. You’re asking what, why, how, when, and who. You ask to hear the cause. I ask to see the effect.”

His smirk returned and he said, “Touché. Alright then, you tell me your story and I’ll show you the result of mine.”

“You’re serious?” I asked.

“As much as death.”

“Okay,” I nodded, “but no backing out. Once I spill, I better get to see what’s under that gauze.”

“You will,” he assured me. “But you have to spill first.”

“You have to promise not to tell anyone,” I spoke grimly. “Only a few people know this tale.”

“I’m assuming Chris and Roxy are two of them.”

I nodded. “And Sammie. Well, she knows part of it. I was pretty selective when I told her.”

“She that much of a gossip.”

I shook my head. “No, but, like I said, I don’t want too many people knowing.”

“Why?”

“I’m not who I once was.”

“None of us are,” he stated. I stared at him and he stared at me. This went on for a good two minutes before said, “I swear, I won’t tell your story to a single soul.”

“For some reason,” I began, “I believe you.”
Okay, so the next part of this chapter is going to contain part of Andy's story...though, in reality, the whole story's her story, but you get what I mean. Right? Anyway, Andy's story and some touching on Talon's story will be int he next part :) Finally. 
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Katitch's avatar
This might seem silly but I didn't realise Andy had a back story! I thought it was already explained in previous chapters.
I hope "finally" doesn't mean it'll be the final chapter of the story? It better not be! We still don't know why Chris is part of the Weirdo's Club! 

The beginning of this chapter was especially well-written. You explained how Andy felt, and how time passed for her without going on about mundane details (i.e: I had breakfast. I had lunch. I had supper. Then I slept. I woke up again. Had brekkie once more). 

As per usual, I look forward to the next part!