Track 43: Landfill

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Misery Loves Company

By: theinkslingerr

Track 43: Landfill


I wasn't one of those people who hated hospitals.

I mean, my mom was a nurse, so I was used to the antiseptic smell and the stark white spaces.

Beechmill's hospital was on the small side, but made up for it with cleanliness, edible cafeteria food, and medical professionals that actually cared. Well, except my mom of course. She somehow slipped through the cracks, and I was desperate to avoid her tonight.

After dropping a disguised Rocco in front of the emergency room, I went to park the car. For most of the ride, I hadn't been thinking about the fact that I was driving to my mom's place of employment. I'd been too busy replaying everything that had happened earlier. Golf clubs and broken windows, Alzheimer's, Hazmat, and holy crap Rocco's dad was Niccolo Segretti!!!

I was also freaking out over his arm. If it was broken or horribly fractured, I'd never forgive myself.

Inside the emergency room, I slipped the hood of my jacket over my head and scanned the waiting area for Rocco. He was slouching in a chair at the far corner of the room holding his arm and staring off into space. A black beanie hugged his skull and encouraged the other people waiting to look past him instead of lingering. No one here felt good, so even if they thought the guy in the corner looked a bit like Rocco Alden from Blue Vendetta, they didn't voice it.

When I plopped into the empty seat next to him, he did a double take. "What's with the hood, Assassin's Creed?"

"Uh...my mom actually works here so..." I couldn't find the right words.

"So...you don't want her to see you. With me. Because she hates me," he finished wryly.

"She doesn't hate you!"

He quirked a dark brow.

"She's just...overprotective...after sixteen years of pretending I don't exist. Look, I don't wanna talk about her. How's your arm?"

"It's fine," he replied. "This probably could've waited until tomorrow."

"But Lillian said to get it x-rayed ASAP. You're a guitarist. You can't mess around when it comes to this stuff," I argued.

Rocco slid further down in his seat. "Yeah, yeah. Guess there's no arguing with a nurse's daughter." He looked exhausted and on-edge at the same time. I didn't know if he'd ever planned on introducing me to his grandparents, but it was obvious that he wasn't happy about the way it had gone down. He was open about certain things, but fiercely private when it came to his family.

He was like an open book...if that book had a section you could only access with a key. And after tonight, I finally understood why.

"Mitchum?" A nurse that fortunately wasn't my mom called.

A girl clutching wadded up tissue to her bloody nose got up to meet her. "It won't stop," she whined. The nurse made a sympathetic expression she probably used hundreds of times a day, and led the girl through a pair of white double doors.

Rocco bit his full bottom lip and spaced out again.

I left him to his thoughts for a few minutes, but at the end of the day I couldn't help myself.

Curling an index finger, I dragged the knuckle under his nose. There was nothing there, but I figured it'd still get his attention. I was right. He jumped and looked at me like I'd lost my mind. I bit back a smile, raising both eyebrows as if to say: You started it. Can't I return the favor?

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