Chapter 30: The More Things Change...

Have you ever woken from a deep sleep without feeling totally rested and ready to go? You know you've been asleep for a long time, but the only thing you want to do is drop your head in the pillow and drift away again.

That was how I felt when I woke up – groggy, a little disoriented and tired. I pride myself on being almost hyper-aware of my surroundings. I don't mean I could tell you how many slats the blinds had or the number of ceiling tiles above me like Rainman could, but I'm usually quite aware of where I am and why. At this point, my awareness was struggling a bit, so it took me a few moments to piece things together.

The beeping told me I was in a hospital. I'd been there before as a visitor, when Mike had his appendix removed two years ago, and when Mom had a benign polyp removed a few years before that. The people were efficient, but more than a few struggled with social graces. I didn't blame them at all, when you consider what their job entailed, and the number of unhappy people they had to deal with on a daily basis. I admired them, and knew I could never do their job as well as they did.

After determining where I was, the next question was, why? I remembered most of what had happened the night before; the incident with Tony and Sammie in the parking lot; a rival gang showing up and confronting Tony. Both of those items spawned questions of their own. Was Sammie okay? What happened to Tony?

Before I could finish level-setting, a nurse entered the room. As she entered, I saw her pass my mother, who was asleep in what looked to be a rather uncomfortable recliner. Seeing my mother asleep, she approached the bed and whispered to me, "How are we feeling, Mr. Marlow?"

"My shoulder aches and I'm feeling more than just a little groggy."

As soon as I started to speak, Mom awoke and sat up in her chair.

"Understandable, considering. You're feeling groggy because of the pain medication, and the bump on your head."

"What bump on my head?"

"Apparently, when you were shot and fell, you bumped your head pretty good on the pavement. You have a mild concussion as a result, which is most of the reason why you're my guest, right now." She pointed to a blackboard on the wall and said, "My name is Danielle, and I'll be taking care of you, today. On a scale from one to ten, what's your pain level at the moment?"

"Maybe a two or a three. I don't understand, though. I remember falling, but not much of anything after that. What happened?"

"All I know is, you were shot in the shoulder, fell, and bumped your head. You're a lucky man, Mr. Marlow. Another inch here," she touched my shoulder just below the collarbone, next to my arm, "or here," she indicated the area closer to my heart, "and we would be having a much different conversation."

"When will he be released?" Mom inquired.

"The doctor hasn't said, but barring any complications I would imagine he will be home in the next day or two. I'll be back in a little while and see if you want a little breakfast."

The nurse left and Mom approached the left side of my bed. She was a mess. Still beautiful, but I could see where she had been upset and her eyes were a little bloodshot.

"What happened?" I asked.

She placed her hand on my arm, "You were shot in the shoulder and hit your head on the pavement."

"That, I gathered from the nurse. But what happened after I fell? Did anyone else get hurt?"

Mom dropped her head as she nodded and said, "Tony was shot and killed. The two guys with him were arrested, but otherwise unharmed."

I wasn't worried about Tony or his idiot friends, though. I was looking around for my friends, hoping and expecting they would be here.

"What about Sammie, Mike, and everyone else who was there? Why isn't anyone else here?"

She stroked my cheek and said, "You're in ICU, Phil. They only let family in here. When you're moved to another room, they might be able to visit." She held my hand with both of hers. "Sammie's a mess, Phil. Imagine how you would be if a person you loved was killed. Then imagine it happening right before your eyes." With that, a tear escaped Mom's eye and trickled down her cheek. "I know I can imagine what Sammie is going through, right now."

I took Mom's hand in mine, and we let the silence overtake us. I know what had to have flashed through her mind when she was called and told her son - her only remaining, immediate family member – had been shot.

By lunch time Sunday, I was transferred out of ICU and into a standard private room. Although the family restriction had been lifted, I could still only have three visitors at a time. The first group to visit surprised me to some degree, as I fully expected Mike and Sparks to make their appearances. I won't tell you I was disappointed when Jess, Christine and Christy entered the room, though.

What a contrast between the three of them. Jess had to look of a fashion model. She was gorgeous now, but I knew she would continue to blossom as she got older. She was way out of my league. Understanding that to be the case, it had helped us relax around each other. I had no expectations from her, other than the type of connection we had established over the last several weeks.

How could I describe that relationship? I wasn't yet sixteen, but I felt like I was a taking a crash course in growing up. What happened when she graduated? Maybe I would see her when she came home for the holidays. Maybe we could stay in touch via text or Facebook, or maybe our relationship would gradually fade away into nothing at all.

Then there was Christy. She was my beautiful little spark plug. She couldn't stand it when I told her she was cute; she wanted to be sexy and alluring. But cute was in her DNA. When she walked in the room, I immediately felt better. Things had certainly become interesting between the two of us, lately; but no matter what happened from this point forward, my future relationships would be influenced by our time together. At least she would be around for the next year-and-a-half. After that, we would have to see where are paths took us. Somehow, I knew we would always stay connected.

Christine puzzled me. She was like Jess' negative. Where Jess had the blue eyes and shoulder-length, blonde hair, Christine had brown eyes and short-cropped, brown hair. Jess had a classic model's body, but Christine had that girl next door look down pat. And there was something lurking behind those light, brown eyes. Something intriguing that kept me guessing. Christine seemed like a very simple person to understand, but she had layers that begged for the right person to come along and start peeling them away.

All three of them were cheerleaders, but that was one of the few common traits they shared. However, it was this trait clearly on display as they entered the room.

Christy started with, "Feeling better, sunshine?"

All three of them had 'cheerleader smiles' plastered on their faces. I knew it the minute they walked in the door. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. People in the entertainment business seem to have the innate ability to whip out a nice smile anytime they need it. Most of the time, I was sure it was fake, but I'm also just as sure it had its appropriate moments.

This was one of them.

Christy approached my left side as Christine walked around to my right. Both of them took the opportunity to give me a kiss on the cheek and flash a nice big smile. Jess was stationed at the end of the bed, watching me with a little smirk on her face. We engaged in small talk until the conversation inevitably broached the events of the night before.

"So, what happened? I remember seeing Tony punch Sammie in the stomach and getting pissed. And I can remember Tony's goons trying to come after me, but what happened after Tony was shot?"

Christy is easily the most talkative of the three and proved it yet again.

"Well, Sammie kicked the guy who shot you, in the leg, which is why you only got shot in the shoulder. Mike took him out after he shot you. The other guy had just pulled his gun out of his pants when Jessica snuck up behind him and tasered him."

Jessica hadn't said anything, yet, but I could read something there in her eyes. Interpreting that something was beyond my abilities, at that point. I couldn't tell if it was sadness, relief or anger; but I could tell there was something, and I wanted to know what it was.

"Christy? Christine? Can you give me and Jessica a couple of minutes?"

Jessica's eyes widened at my request. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. If I didn't know better, I would swear she was having a small panic attack.

Christy and Christine looked a little offended, but complied with my request and headed to the door.

"It'll just be a couple of minutes, okay?" I offered.

Both of them nodded and headed out into the hallway. Christy stuck her head back in and said, "We're heading down to get something to drink. Do you think that will be enough time?"

"Sure."

Christy smiled and winked at me before she and Christine disappeared, leaving Jess and me by ourselves.

For the first time I could remember, since Jess revealed her abortion, she wouldn't look me in the eye. Again, I was clueless, but I knew something was going on. It was up to me to try to pull it out of her.

I let thirty seconds go by in silence, before I couldn't stand it anymore.

"What is it, Jess?"

She shook her head, not looking at me and refusing to answer.

I continued to press, "I know I saw something in your eyes, Jess. After all we've talked about, why are holding back now?"

Jess looked really uncomfortable, which, I knew, was not a condition common to her. She could address the student body with ease, cheer in front of thousands of fans, and had just about every jock and nerd in the school ready to cater to her every wish. Her looks, alone, intimidated people. She knew it and used it to her full advantage. With a simple look or nod of her head, people would fall in line with her, and yet, she was also smart enough to know not to abuse that power.

After spending several weeks talking with her, inevitably, we got to know each other better. I've mentioned before that I tend to be acutely aware. That trait was enhanced the more time I spent with someone. I didn't mean I always knew what was going on around me, but I was more likely to pick up on little clues than most, or so I imagined.

Finally, she sighed and stared at me. For any mere mortal, their soul would have instantly wilted. But I felt like I had nothing to lose with Jess. It would be pretty easy to fall back into old patterns and the arms-length distance we had before she started coming over every Tuesday. By addressing her directly, I was letting her know I didn't want that to happen. Now it was up to her.

She dropped her eyes, sighed again and approached the right side of the bed.

"We ... uh ... walked by the nursery, before I came to see you. Christy and Christine both wanted to see the newborns, and I couldn't give them a good reason why we shouldn't see them."

I could see tears forming in her beautiful deep blue eyes.

"I'm stronger than this," she whispered to herself.

"You're not alone, Jess. There are a lot of people who want to help you."

She nodded her head in agreement, and said, "I know. Through all of the crap that has happened in the last few months, it's hard to ignore people like you and Elle, who have really been there for me."

She paused and wiped a tear from her left eye.

"Which made it incredibly hard to witness what happened to you Friday night. I know it happened to you, Phil, but it affected everyone around you, myself included. My life has been pretty predictable over the last couple of years and there was comfort, in that, for me. But the last few months have been filled with turmoil, and it's changed who I thought I was. Walking by the nursery, and now visiting you after you've been shot, really drove that home today. I'm guessing you recognized some of that."

I smiled and wiped her eyes with my fingers. "I knew there was something going on, Jess."

"Anyhow, I'll be okay," she said.

I opened my arms and pulled her in for a hug. "I know you will, Jess. Of that, I have no doubt."

"So how long are you in this freakin' place?" Sparks asked.

"I really don't know. The doctor was here just before you guys arrived, and said he would let me know in a couple of hours. He said it depends on my head, and how my shoulder looks."

"Does it hurt?" Mike wanted to know.

"Not hurt, as much as ache. The nurse said I was lucky with the placement of the shot and the caliber of the bullet. The wound missed all the vital stuff and passed through. They didn't have to do any major surgery, just patch me up and stick me in here."

Heather looked around the room, taking in the numerous flowers and cards in the room.

"You're becoming a popular guy, Phil. Look at all of the get well cards and flowers."

"Yeah, popular for the wrong reasons. I'd be glad to give them all up not to have to stay here."

"Dude, you just survived getting shot at close range! That's freakin' cool!" Sparks beamed. "Your reputation as a bad-ass just got a major boost!"

"What kind of food is this?" Mike asked, as he pawed the tray next to my bed. "I'm going to have to tell Jeanette how awesome her cooking is. This stuff is pure crap."

Jeanette was the Baker's housekeeper and a good friend of Maria's. It was a toss-up to determine who the better cook was, but I always told Maria she was the one. It was damn close.

I watched Mike take the last spoonful of the pudding I had been saving for later, and said, "Be careful, there, Mike, remember you're lactose..."

No sooner did I get the words out of my mouth before Sparks and Heather looked like they had just sucked on a lemon. Mike was a big guy and his lactose intolerance was a big deal. The story running through the JV ranks was that Mike had taken all of the fun out of away games. Nobody wanted to ride the bus with him, anymore.

Sparks and Heather quickly made their exit, shooting daggers at Mike as they left. Mike was shameless, smiling the entire time.

"Thanks a lot, asshole. Now the nurse is going to think I did this," I said. Mike continued to smile, clearly enjoying dishing out the torture. "I wouldn't be surprised to see the coroner walk in and start looking around for the dead body."

I chanced a quick sniff of the air to see if offending odor had dissipated, but wasn't so lucky. I gagged and pinched my nose again and thought I was going to throw up. I was tempted to call for the nurse and see if she had any air freshener, but I didn't want to expose her to the torture, especially after the way she had been taking care of me. The air freshener wouldn't have made a difference anyhow. It would just have smelled like someone took a crap in a flower bed.

"Did you want to invite Alice in here? I'm sure she has to be immune to this, by now."

Mike's smile receded, "Alice and I aren't going out, anymore, dude."

This was a shock. Mike and Alice seemed like an old married couple, to me. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen Mike and not seen Alice with him.

"We broke up after Homecoming," he continued. "I guess it was time, really."

"What do you mean, it was time?"

"I mean, I kinda knew we weren't going to be together, long-term. I think she likes some other guy, and I know another girl I would like to date, so the breakup was pretty much by mutual consent."

I didn't see it coming, but I had to go back to what Mom had said a few weeks ago. High school romances are not likely to last long-term. Usually, they are exciting in the early stages, but once the initial excitement has passed and you get to know someone, the reality of a relationship sets in. All of the sudden, little things, so easily overlooked in the beginning, became more prominent. I shouldn't be surprised, but they did look comfortable around each other.

"Still friends?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so. She was my first, so ... there is that."

"So who is the girl you are going after now?"

Mike dropped his head and look embarrassed as he said, "I'm not going after her, yet. She has someone she's seeing, but she says he's not her boyfriend, or anything. I've known her for a few years and we've been friends, but I never thought I would get the nerve to ask her out. After being out with Alice, I think my confidence is up, so I'm tempted to give it a shot."

Remember I mentioned that I considered myself to be acutely aware of my surroundings? Well, whether it was this awareness, intuition or something else, I suddenly realized who Mike was talking about.

"I did notice you guys seemed to be hitting it off while you were dancing," I offered.

Mike's head jerked up as he we locked eyes. I could tell he was worried, and I knew why. Our friendship was suddenly being called into question. I never liked the crudeness from the statement 'bros before hoes', but it did highlight an unwritten rule amongst friends – don't mess with your friend's girlfriend.

"I haven't done anything wrong, Phil, and I never will. I know you and Suzanne are dating, but she said it wasn't serious."

"I guess it wasn't."

Mike looked like I had just cold-cocked him. "I'm not trying to throw away our friendship, Phil, but I want to be straight up with you. If you tell me to back off, I will."

What a useless gesture that would be. If the attraction between the two of them was mutual, my asking Mike to back off would do nothing but drive a wedge between the three of us. Besides, I wasn't really all that invested in Suzanne. She had made the first play and I had simply been along for the ride, which wasn't bad and seemed to be necessary, in the wake of the incident with Christy. But this was not exactly restoring my faith in the fairer sex.

"Have you talked to Suzanne, yet?"

Mike nodded, "We talked a little at the dance. I told her I wouldn't do anything until I talked to you."

"I appreciate that, Mike. I guess that explains why I haven't heard from Suzanne, yet. Why don't you talk to her and let her know I'm okay with it. I have to tell you, I'm not happy about the way this is happening, but I guess it could have been worse."

By the time the nurse plopped the dinner tray of some foreign substances in front of me, the parade of people visiting had pretty much ended. Everyone I thought might come by, had, with a couple of notable exceptions in Suzanne and Sammie. I was hoping Sammie would at least come by for a visit, but that looked less likely as the evening progressed. As I finished eating something supposedly resembling stir fry, Mom and Christy returned from their dinner, smiles plastered on their faces.

"Okay, what's with the smiles? Something's up."

Christy approached the right side of the bed and gave me a quick peck on the lips. "Your mom just scored a date!"