Mia the Magnificent (13 page)

“Fine.” Turning down a side street, I decreased my speed to a crawl and stared into Tim’s eyes. I’d forgotten how mesmerizing they were. They were like two pools of dark brown chocolate begging me to give in to my sweet tooth. I stammered, “Tim, I, I, I...” I swallowed hard. “What was I supposed to say?”

Tim’s head moved in closer to mine. “That you don’t have feelings for me anymore.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” I said, pulled in by his gaze. “Tim, I...”

But I couldn’t continue. My only thought at that moment was the thrill of having Tim’s lips on mine once again. I leaned in closer. Our lips were millimeters from touching when Tim lurched away and yelled, “Mia, watch out for that dog!”

My eyes jerked back to the road. I slammed on the brakes just as a black lab shot in front of us. Swerving the car to the right to miss the dog, I skidded through a stop sign. A car horn blared. Lights blinded my sight. I turned to look out my window, but there was no time.

My body was laid onto a flat board and lifted into the air. Bright lights flashed overhead. Struggling to understand what was going on, I tried to turn my head to the side, but something wrapped around my neck kept it still.

A man overhead yelled, “She’s regaining consciousness!”

Regaining consciousness?
Did that mean I’d lost it at some point? I tried getting up, but the restraints on my arm held me back. I whispered, my body numb, “What’s going on? Where am I?”

Tim’s face appeared over me like an angel from above. Oh God, I was dead. And if Tim was here, he was dead, too. Were we in heaven or hell? With Tim, it was so hard to tell.

“We were in a car accident,” Tim said. “The other driver and I are fine, but the fireman had to pry you out of the car. They said you’re going to be OK, though.”

I blinked a few times, trying to take all this in. “So I’m not dead?”

“Of course not,” Tim said. “But your leg is kind of bent at a weird angle, so they’re going to take you to the hospital. I’ve already called your parents and they’re going to meet you there.”

My
parents?
Shifting my eyes to the left, I saw my dad’s car—or what was left of it—and groaned. Once my parents got over their joy that I was still alive, they were going to kill me.

When I woke up a few hours later, I felt like someone had put me in a blender and hit the crush button. Even my earlobes hurt. As I opened my eyes, the pain ripped through me like a herd of stampeding rhinos.

“Where am I?” I groaned.

My dad leaned over and pushed the hair away from my forehead. “You’re in the hospital. The paramedics gave you something for the pain, and you’ve been in and out ever since.”

Images flashed in my head: black dog, bright lights, Tim...

I closed my eyes to block the spasms shooting through me. “Why does it hurt so much?”

No one answered.

“What’s wrong?” My eyes shot open. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Did something bad happen to me in the accident? Is my face hideously deformed?”

“No more than usual.”

I turned my head toward the voice and saw Chris, hunched in a chair, flipping through a magazine. I felt strangely relieved. If Chris was being a jerk, then nothing too bad could have happened. If he was ever nice to me, then I’d worry.

“Your face is fine,” my mom said, wringing a Kleenex in her hand. “It’s a little puffy with the bruising from the air bag, but it’ll go back to normal soon.”

“How unfortunate,” Chris muttered.

“I should’ve known better than to let you drive the first day you had your license,” my mom continued, obviously too overwrought to address Chris. “You just aren’t responsible enough to be driving on your own. What were you thinking, running that stop sign? Don’t you know you could have been killed?”

“I was trying to avoid a dog,” I said, hoping to play on her sympathy.

“We’ll talk about the accident later,” my dad said as my mom grabbed another handful of Kleenex. “Right now, our main concern
is your left leg. The doctors said you broke your femur and the only way they can repair it is to put a pin in it during surgery.”

“Surgery?” I squeaked.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” my dad said. “They’ll do the surgery first thing in the morning, and then you’ll be in a wheelchair for only—”

“Wheelchair?” My voice went up another octave.

“The wheelchair is only until the sprain on your right ankle heals. Then you’ll be on crutches. In a few months, you’ll be back to shooting lay-ups in the backyard.”

“A few months? Did you happen to get a second opinion?”

Not bothering to look up from his magazine, Chris said, “If you want a second opinion, check out your leg. It looks like a pit bull’s chew toy.”

“It can’t be that bad,” I said, flipping the covers off my leg. “It’s just a litt—oh my God!” I screamed, taking in the mass of twisted, purple, swollen, and bloody flesh. “What’s wrong with my leg?”

I began hyperventilating as searing pain attacked my leg like a million little warriors jabbing me with burning hot pokers. I screamed again.

“I’m no doctor,” Chris said, “but I think the pain medication is wearing off.”

As my dad pushed the button attached to my IV like a
Jeopardy
contestant trying to buzz in, the pain gradually lessened, and darkness fell over me once again.

The next morning, I woke up groggy and confused. Blinking away the cobwebs covering my eyes, I glanced over and saw my mom and dad whispering to each other by the window. I wet my lips and croaked, “What’s going on?”

“Mia!” Mom came rushing to my bedside. “I’m glad to see you awake. I was so worried. I thought your dad gave you a morphine overdose!”

“She was in pain,” my dad said. “How was I supposed to know I shouldn’t hit the morphine button that many times?”

“That’s OK, Dad,” I said, remembering the nice woozy feeling the medicine had given me. “I kind of liked it.”

“Great,” my mom said, slapping my dad on the arm. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve turned our daughter into a morphine addict!”

The door swung open and a nurse wearing bright pink Hello Kitty scrubs walked into the room. “I thought I heard voices in here,” she said. “It looks like my little patient is finally awake!”

“Is the doctor here for the surgery yet?” my mom asked.

With all the drugs my dad had slipped me, I’d forgotten all about the surgery.

“The doctor will be with you soon. He’s just finishing up with another patient with the strangest case,” the nurse said, sticking a thermometer in my ear. “This poor kid in the other room has a cucumber up his nose, a carrot in one ear, and a banana stuck in the other.”

Holding out my arm so she could take my blood pressure, I said, “What’s wrong with him?”

“The doctor said he wasn’t eating properly.” The nurse began giggling. “Get it? He wasn’t eating properly because he was sticking food in his nose and ears?”

I smiled weakly, hoping with all my might that this lady wasn’t going to be anywhere close to the operating room.

“Well, enough hospital humor,” the nurse said cheerfully. “I need to get you prepped for surgery. Now, according to your boyfriend, who was with you at the time of the accident, the last time you ate was around five o’clock. He said you ate a large box of buttered popcorn, a super-sized soda, a box of thin mints, and some red licorice.
Is that correct?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Well, I should hope not,” my mom replied. “Nobody could eat that much food in one sitting.”

“Um, the food part was right,” I said sheepishly. “But he’s not my boyfriend.”

“I see,” the nurse said, writing something onto the piece of paper attached to her clipboard.

“It wasn’t like we were on a date or anything,” I hastily added. “Nothing happened between Tim and me. I was only out with Tim because I lost a bet and—”

“Honey,” the nurse interrupted, clicking her pen, “I just needed to know when you ate last. I don’t need the details of your love life.”

“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you!” I said more urgently, suddenly feeling an overwhelming desire to convince her. “It’s not my love life. Tim and I are just friends.”

“Well, when this surgery is over, you’ll have a nice big cast for all your friends and boyfriends to sign,” said the nurse with a wink.

“Tim is not my boyfriend,” I said. “I told you, nothing happened.”

“I believe you, sweetie,” the nurse said. “I was trying to make a joke to loosen you up before the surgery, but I’ve obviously had the opposite effect, so let’s talk about something else. Are you allergic to any medicine?”

“OK,” I said, sighing, not wanting to lie right before going under the knife. After all, if something went wrong, I’d hate to be turned away from the pearly gates just for telling a little fib. “Something
almost
happened between Tim and me. But I swear I would’ve stopped myself before we actually kissed. It’s just that the dog stopped me first.”

“Hold on a minute,” my dad interrupted. “Let me get this straight. You were going to kiss Tim while you were driving my car, and it’s because you weren’t paying attention to the road that you had to
dodge a dog and then ran a stop sign?”

I cringed.

“You totaled
my car
for a kiss?!” my dad exclaimed.

“Don’t believe anything this girl is saying right now,” the nurse said, flipping my chart closed. “All that morphine has her brain addled. And before she says any more nonsense, I’m going to give her something stronger to relax her before surgery.”

The nurse pulled out a needle the size of Texas and connected it to the tube running into my arm. As the drugs hit my vein, I reached out to my parents to tell them how sorry I was for demolishing their car, but they spun away from me. As the room twirled faster and faster, I grew dizzier and dizzier. I closed my eyes for just a second...

I was in a deep well, trying to swim to the top. I could see Tim’s face looking down at me, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t break free to the surface. Black water rolled over me and Tim’s face disappeared as I went under again. Desperate not to lose sight of him, I struggled with all my might. With one final push, I broke free of the blackness, took a gulp of air, and called out, “Tim?”