answered. “Hey, Mom…why? What happened?” The sudden edge to his tone made Lucas sit up. “Is he okay?” Nate listened for another moment. “Okay, I’m going. Don’t worry, Mom. ’Bye.”
Lucas was at his side. “What?”
“Sam was in an accident. I don’t know, but he’s at the hospital in Manhattan. My parents are on their way, but I have to go too.” Worry creased his face as he quickly shoved his limbs into the nearest clothing, which happened to be the shirt Lucas had worn the day before and left on the floor by the laundry hamper.
“I’ll come with you.” Lucas got dressed too, before running his hand quickly through his hair.
“It’s okay. I’m sure he’s fine.” Nate didn’t sound sure at all.
“Nate.” Lucas put his hands on Nate’s shoulders, forcing him to look at him. “I’m coming.”
Nate nodded. “He’ll be fine, right? I mean, it’s Sam. He’s the golden child. Nothing can happen to him.”
Steering Nate toward the door, Lucas grabbed his wallet and keys. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”
Lucas really hoped he wasn’t lying.
In the back of the cab on the way to the hospital, Lucas held Nate’s hand tightly. They said nothing, and the Saturday morning traffic was mercifully and surprisingly light. The emergency room, however, bustled with activity. A baby wailed, unseen, and Nate had to raise his voice to be heard by the triage nurse.
She told them to take a seat, and they found two seats between a miserable-looking woman with a small child sleeping in her lap, and a disheveled man who was telling the young woman beside him how beautiful she was. The woman appeared singularly unimpressed.
A TV high on the wall aired CNN, and Lucas stared at the news crawl. The same news repeated itself every few minutes, yet he remained transfixed.
Finally, an aging nurse with a clipboard, squeaky shoes, and peach-colored scrubs called for Nate. Lucas accompanied him wordlessly through the swinging doors and beyond into the patient area of the ER.
There were barely inside when Sam’s voice rang out. “That tickles!” he squealed, followed by giggles. Relief and irritation mingled, and Nate’s face transformed. His lips compressed and he marched toward a curtained-off exam area.
When Nate whipped back the curtain, Sam glanced up from the bed where his leg lay propped on pillows. His face lit up. “Heeey! It’s my brother!” Alcohol wafted off him in waves.
“What the hell happened?” Nate was terse.
The nurse smirked. “He had a fall getting out of a cab this morning. Twisted his ankle pretty badly, but he’ll live. He’ll need to be on crutches for a few days.”
Sam’s ankle was about the size of a grapefruit, which looked painful, although he didn’t appear to be feeling it. “Glad you’re okay,” Lucas said.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I told them they didn’t need to call anyone.” Sam spoke with the slow cadence of someone who had drunk far too much.
“Well, they called Mom and Dad, who are on their way with half the family in tow, probably.” Nate was not amused.
“Whoops.” Sam giggled.
“It’s eight o’clock in the morning! How are you still drunk?”
“Twenty-four-hour strip bar, apparently,” the nurse told them.
“What about Amanda?” Nate’s anger was clearly building and his voice rose.
“Dude, I was having some fun with the guys. Chillax.”
Nate ignored him and dialed his cell phone. The nurse shook her head. “Uh-uh, you’ve got to go outside for that.” Nate left without another word, and the nurse moved on to another patient
“Aw, man, he’s always mad at me for something. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Horrifyingly, Sam appeared as if he might start crying, so Lucas quickly reassured him.
“No, no, he’s not mad.” Obvious lie. “He was just really worried about you.” Which was true.
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“You know, dude, you’re a good guy. I really didn’t want a roommate in my senior year,
Lucas was at his side. “What?”
“Sam was in an accident. I don’t know, but he’s at the hospital in Manhattan. My parents are on their way, but I have to go too.” Worry creased his face as he quickly shoved his limbs into the nearest clothing, which happened to be the shirt Lucas had worn the day before and left on the floor by the laundry hamper.
“I’ll come with you.” Lucas got dressed too, before running his hand quickly through his hair.
“It’s okay. I’m sure he’s fine.” Nate didn’t sound sure at all.
“Nate.” Lucas put his hands on Nate’s shoulders, forcing him to look at him. “I’m coming.”
Nate nodded. “He’ll be fine, right? I mean, it’s Sam. He’s the golden child. Nothing can happen to him.”
Steering Nate toward the door, Lucas grabbed his wallet and keys. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”
Lucas really hoped he wasn’t lying.
In the back of the cab on the way to the hospital, Lucas held Nate’s hand tightly. They said nothing, and the Saturday morning traffic was mercifully and surprisingly light. The emergency room, however, bustled with activity. A baby wailed, unseen, and Nate had to raise his voice to be heard by the triage nurse.
She told them to take a seat, and they found two seats between a miserable-looking woman with a small child sleeping in her lap, and a disheveled man who was telling the young woman beside him how beautiful she was. The woman appeared singularly unimpressed.
A TV high on the wall aired CNN, and Lucas stared at the news crawl. The same news repeated itself every few minutes, yet he remained transfixed.
Finally, an aging nurse with a clipboard, squeaky shoes, and peach-colored scrubs called for Nate. Lucas accompanied him wordlessly through the swinging doors and beyond into the patient area of the ER.
There were barely inside when Sam’s voice rang out. “That tickles!” he squealed, followed by giggles. Relief and irritation mingled, and Nate’s face transformed. His lips compressed and he marched toward a curtained-off exam area.
When Nate whipped back the curtain, Sam glanced up from the bed where his leg lay propped on pillows. His face lit up. “Heeey! It’s my brother!” Alcohol wafted off him in waves.
“What the hell happened?” Nate was terse.
The nurse smirked. “He had a fall getting out of a cab this morning. Twisted his ankle pretty badly, but he’ll live. He’ll need to be on crutches for a few days.”
Sam’s ankle was about the size of a grapefruit, which looked painful, although he didn’t appear to be feeling it. “Glad you’re okay,” Lucas said.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I told them they didn’t need to call anyone.” Sam spoke with the slow cadence of someone who had drunk far too much.
“Well, they called Mom and Dad, who are on their way with half the family in tow, probably.” Nate was not amused.
“Whoops.” Sam giggled.
“It’s eight o’clock in the morning! How are you still drunk?”
“Twenty-four-hour strip bar, apparently,” the nurse told them.
“What about Amanda?” Nate’s anger was clearly building and his voice rose.
“Dude, I was having some fun with the guys. Chillax.”
Nate ignored him and dialed his cell phone. The nurse shook her head. “Uh-uh, you’ve got to go outside for that.” Nate left without another word, and the nurse moved on to another patient
“Aw, man, he’s always mad at me for something. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Horrifyingly, Sam appeared as if he might start crying, so Lucas quickly reassured him.
“No, no, he’s not mad.” Obvious lie. “He was just really worried about you.” Which was true.
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“You know, dude, you’re a good guy. I really didn’t want a roommate in my senior year,
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