Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
She has a tight grip, but I can tell she’s weakened from either the pain meds or just everything tonight.
“Like I told you before, it’s Macy,” the nurse retorts, then spins to Farrow. “It’s not right for him to be here while she’s—”
“We can talk about this outside,” Farrow says hushed. “Not in front of the patient.”
“You’re seriously letting him stay alone with her for even longer?”
“He’s not leaving!” Luna shouts in distress. “I want him to stay, Farrow. Please! Get her out!”
Farrow is as jarred by the uncharacteristic yelling from Luna as I am. This is a girl who speaks so quiet at times, I strain my ear hairs to catch the noises. Worry stampedes inside me.
“Sweetie,” the nurse tries to console. “I’m here for you.”
“If you were here for me, you’d listen to me.” Luna gasps for breath.
I lower to her side. “Luna, it’s alright. Look at me.” I cup her hand with more force. “I’m here. You see me?”
She rubs at her eyes, almost hiccupping for breath. Is she having a panic attack? I glance back at Farrow, but he’s in a heated conversation with the nurse.
“Absolutely not,” Farrow says, louder.
Back to Luna, I set my ass on the edge of the bed again. “I know you don’t know anything about me,” I tell her, watching her gulp more air. Talking seems to help, so I continue, “But I’ve traveled to your planet and back again countless times.”
She inhales slowly, exhales slowly.
“Go ahead and try to bring in Dr. Tack. She’s my patient,” Farrow says to the nurse. “Again, you need to leave. Now.”
Luna is only fixated on me. I dunno why. She could hang on to the familiarity of Farrow, who she knew growing up, but she’s more absorbed with the mystery of who I am. I’m not complaining about it.
“I promise I’m not leaving you if I can help it,” I tell her more strongly this time. “And I know how promises are made on your planet.”
She catches her staggered breath. “How…how are they made on yours?”
“Promises on my planet?”
“Uh-huh.”
I think for a second. Our hands are still clasped, but I hook our pinkies. Leaning closer to her, I say, “Kiss your thumb the same time as me. Yeah?”
Her lips twitch into a tiny smile, and together, with locked pinkies, we kiss our own thumbs. When I let go, she whispers, “That’s a very earthly promise.”
I start to grin. “That’s ‘cause I’m from Earth, space babe.”
She takes a bigger breath, smiling back, but the slam of the door flinches her and swings my head. The nurse is gone, and Farrow is beyond aggravated, especially as the door flings back open and a bearded doctor in a white coat strolls stiffly into the room.
“He can’t leave,” Farrow tells Dr. Tack, his name embroidered on the coat, then my friend is motioning for me to join them near the draped window.
“I’ll be here,” I assure Luna.
Her heart rate spikes on the machine as I leave her bedside, and Dr. Tack studies her while I meet them across the room.
“She wants him to stay. She’s attached to him,” Farrow whispers to his colleague. “I don’t give a flying shit who thinks it’s a conflict of interest. I’m not pulling strings because of security or because he’s my friend. All I care about is that girl while I’m her doctor—”
“You don’t need to convince me. I’m not Dr. Lewis,” Dr. Tack interjects. “I heard her yelling from the hall. I think it’s necessary for him to stay too, at least until we have a better sense of her PTA.”
PTA?
“Thank you,” Farrow says, easing. They mention something about the staff taking sides and to have a new nurse assigned to Luna.
Once Dr. Tack has left, Farrow sees the needle marks along the crease of my elbow and forearm. The bandage only hides the main puncture. Pure rage flashes across his face, and he catches my elbow for a better look, but I jerk out of his grip.
“You’ve already got one patient. I’m fine.” I ask fast, “What’s PTA?”
He works his jaw but ends up answering, “Post-traumatic amnesia.” Shoulda known. Context clues and all. He shifts his focus to her. “Luna, the neuropsychologist is talking to your family right now. They’re coming to see you after.”
She nods. “Donnelly’s staying?”
“Yeah. He’ll be over in that chair when your family comes in.” He motions to a beige chair in the corner.
“My name’s on it already,” I say lightly.
She smiles, her cheeks a little flushed. Someone cleaned off the painted streaks beneath her eyes, but they left the ribbons in her light brown hair. She looks like Luna.
She is Luna. She just doesn’t know me. Plus, I didn’t even start getting to know her until the FanCon tour. We had such few interactions at the beginning, and so many other events eventually shaped her throughout the years—and those are gone in her head.