Page 133 of Dirty Roulette
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” she buries her head into his chest as he cradles her head with the palm of his hand.
“You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m just grateful we’ve found you,” Noah says to her.
We don’t chat about the concert. Not a word is said about what happened to her. We listen to the rant about the gross food they’ve been trying to feed her. The doctor ended up pulling Mom outside of the room, and I only caught some bits of Charlie’s condition and understood something about a coma and that there is memory loss from the head trauma. She’ll need physical therapy, but the rest is muffled withmmhmmsandokays.
Payton and Noah agree to take the Jeep and grab something to eat other than trashy hospital food. I sit on the edge of a plastic chair, hunched over as Charlie studies the remote in her hands struggling to change the channel on the fat-boxed television planted on the wall.
She smacks the back of the remote, grumbles, and throws her head into the pillow. “It might need new batteries, let me see.” I push myself up and take the remote attempting to change the channel myself. I have to press hard on each button to activate the TV guide.
“Please tell me Payt’s your girlfriend now.” Charlie clears her throat and I stare at the channel numbers and all the movie titles in smallprint. I turn to her, and she dips her head to the right, smiling, her pale skin causing me to swallow hard.
I drop my eyes to the floor, staring at my sneakers and listening to the soft beeping of her heart monitor. “I might love her more than you do.” I give her a brief half-smile and see her toothy grin in return. I scroll through the different shows and click on a channel having a marathon of Friends.
“You can’t beat me.” She jabs a finger into her chest. “I grew up being her big sister, don’t you forget it. I’ll always love her more.”
I chuckle and place the remote down on the mattress next to her. “I didn’t realize loving her was a competition.”
“Promise not to fuck it up.” She holds up her pinky wiggling it at me.
“I think you’ve known the entire time she’s been the one for me,” I say, wrapping my pinky around hers.
“So you’ll make her my sister for real?” she asks.
“Yeah, if she lets me.” I shrug my shoulders, sitting against the edge of the mattress, and stare at the plain wall with the shadows of the blinds swaying side to side.
Charlie’s eyes glue to the television and the subtitles popping up on the screen. “I’m sorry for being a complete bitch... I...”
“You had every right to be upset, and you don’t need to fill me in on the gaps of Roulette, and what the game put you through, but just know, Payton did a number on Brody. He’ll never haze anyone again,” I say.
“About that...” She curls her lips under her front teeth like she’s debating on what to say. Her eyes wander all over the plain white hospital room.
“What?” I ask.
“I had pretty bad amnesia. I couldn’t really even figure out my name...” Charlie scratches the edge of her hairline and sucks in a deep breath. “Some cranky old man in the other room really likes football and it happened to be your game. I heard Noah singing and it all came back. My whole life fell back into my chest. The nurses couldn’t get me to calm down, I was screaming about what happened to me and what Brody did...”
“And seeing the game brought it all back?” I scrunch my brows together.
“Yeah, it’s kinda weird how our brains are wired. My missing person flyer popped up, and I guess I should be dead.” The different pictures from the television screen reflect in her irises and there is a hint of sadness in them.
“You are alive, that’s all I could ask for.”
Chapter fifty-two
Ryder
It’s New Year's, and people buzzed past Payton and I at this party like our life was put into fast-forward. Everything zipped by at such a high rate – people played beer pong, danced on the tables, and took shots. Time flew as I sat next to Payton talking about everything that popped into my mind, not a single second wasted on one word. I wiped happy tears from Payton’s cheeks as we kissed at the stroke of midnight.
We leave shortly after, but I don’t drive her to my place. If we walk into an orgy session, I won’t have the capacity to explain Jared’s life decisions. I take us home, to the house we grew up in. It’s where we’ve poured candy out of pillowcases after trick or treating, where she helped me decorate the Christmas tree, and where there would always be a place for her. There’s even a spot on the wall where we measured her height, too.
I pull into the driveway, and the patio light glows a dim orange.
“Is your mom here?” Payton asks.
“No, she’s still on a retreat with the church.”
“Really? She’s still there?”
“Yeah, she is getting a lot better. There is a new job lined up for her when she returns. It pays triple of what she was making.” I smile, placing the Jeep in park. Fireworks pop and crackle down the street. In the sky, some are exploding in different arrays of colors.
