Page 82 of Lies and Lullabies
What the…?
I leaned down to put a hand on the obstacle at my feet. The thing I’d tripped over was Nixon.
* * *
Ninety minutes later,Ethan’s voice boomed through the ER waiting room. “The last name is Winters, and I’m his emergency contact.”
Finally.
The big man was out there, but I couldn’t exactly flag him down, because I was hiding on a bench beside a dispensary closet, a seat I’d won through sheer stubbornness. “I willnotsit in that waiting room,” I’d said fifty times already. “If you send me out there, this will be all over the tabloids, and he’ll sue you.”
That last bit was probably an empty threat. But if I was spotted in an ER after a concert, there would be a lot of speculation over why, all of it bad for the band’s reputation. It wouldn’t take the vultures too long to hone in on the story.
I’m in the hallway behind the desk, I texted Ethan.
A minute later, he came trotting down the hall. He skidded to a stop in front of me. “How is he?”
“If only I knew. Good luck figuring out who’s in charge. I’m not supposed to be sitting here, so I’ve been blacklisted. They’re all, like, ‘Make sure you don’t give any information to the jerk on the bench.’”
Ethan sat down beside me with an irritated sigh. “Who gave the bad drugs to our man?”
“I’ve never seen this girl before. And I don’t even know what it was. Pills, I think. Because there was no evidence of smoking or—” I stopped short of the wordinjecting. I didn’t know what the hell Nixon was into these days. And I felt horrible for not anticipating this crisis.
“Shit.” Ethan shook his head. “I meant to check in with him earlier.”
“You’re not responsible for every stupid thing he does, right? I should have paid more attention. I mean… Isawthem hiding something from me, and I didn’t even stop.” Tonight I’d let so many people down. And most of them didn’t even know it yet. “I shouldn’t have told Vivi that I was coming to Boston tonight. Fuck.”
“Is your girl going to be pissed?”
“I have no idea.” It was too late to call Kira. I’d have to reach her in the morning and beg forgiveness. I should have known that I couldn’t even go ten days without fucking things up with her. My record already spoke for itself, didn’t it?
“I’m sorry, man. You want me to call a car and see if I can pay somebody to drive your ass up to Boston?”
“No,” I said, putting my head in my hands. “I have to wait around for Nixon to wake up. So I can fucking kill him myself.” It was tough talk. But I was terrified for Nixon.Come on, buddy, I privately begged.It doesn’t end like this.
We waited. As one does at hospitals. At some point a doctor finally deigned to tell us that Nixon was stable, and that they were admitting him to a room upstairs.
“Can we keep his face covered when you take him up?” Ethan asked.
“Sure. Whatever. You can do it yourself.” He gave Ethan a look of pure disgust.
I didn’t even blame the guy. We were playing the part of fucked-up musicians flawlessly tonight. If I’d met myself for the first time tonight, I’d write myself off as an asshole, too.
* * *
I spentthe night sitting in a chair beside Nixon’s bed, feeling sorry for both of us. And it wasn’t until gray light had begun to seep into the hospital room’s window that Nixon finally woke up.
“Shit,” he said, his voice like sandpaper. “Shit.”
I rose from the chair slowly because my ass had fallen asleep. “I don’t know whether to kiss you or kill you.”
“You’re not my type,” Nixon tried to joke. But he sounded so sick that it wasn’t funny at all. “So thirsty,” he complained.
I couldn’t give him a drink if he was flat on his back. I found the button to raise the bed and pressed it.
“Stop!” he said as the bed began to rise, his body clenching under the sheets
I grabbed a plastic pan off of a table and handed it to Nixon, who began dry-heaving.
