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"Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital."

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Car accident."

"Can you tell me your name?"

Nate opens his mouth, pausing as his eyebrows crease together. "I... can't remember." He watches Dawn freeze in front of him, letting her stew before a grin breaks. "I don't have amnesia, Mom."

"That's not funny," she breathes, checking his blood pressure as he snickers.

I stand at the end of his bed while she finishes examining him. After Nate woke up, I called her back in to check on him. Just as a precaution.

"All right, a doctor will come by to do a full examination later, but you're stable, your vitals are improving. No mental impairments," Dawn says, jotting something down on his chart. "Aside from being a nuisance to your mother, but I'm afraid that's a lifelong disorder you've had since birth. No cure for that one."

I let out a giggle as Nate rolls his eyes. "Hilarious," he drawls.

"Such a sourpuss." Dawn glances at me before she leans down to him, whispering loudly, "She's a real sweetie pie, isn't she? Some say sweet and sour make the best combinations."

Nate flushes and hastily grumbles for her to leave, and I can't but smile at his rare glowing embarrassment. Dawn stops by me on the way out, slipping her hand in her pocket and pulling out a sharpie.

"Have at it," she says, nodding to his arm cast.

"Doesn't plaster take days to dry?"

"It's fiberglass, it's been set for hours. And if you don't get in there now, Blake's going to hog it all as soon as he gets a chance."

〰️〰️〰️

As the world gradually awakens outside, I work in the soft light, dragging the black marker along his cast. Nate is lying on his side, his left arm stretched out as my fiberglass canvas.

I shift in my chair, holding his arm steady. "I don't care if you think this is girly, you're gonna have to live with it."

He watches me finish the line of a butterfly wing before I start the next one. A row of them winding around the length of his cast. "Draw whatever you want, but just so you know, the guys are totally going to draw a dick on this thing. It's inevitable."

A laugh bursts out. "Of course they will. Rob also has plenty of space for you guys to go nuts."

He grins, catching my unintended wordplay. I shake my head and continue in silence before he speaks, "I can't believe how bad he got hurt."

My tongue thickens in my mouth, but I carry on drawing, willing my eyes to stay dry. Nate asked about Rob and Blake as soon as he remembered the accident. The news of Rob's possible paralysis had struck him hard.

"I'm so sorry," he says with strain. "If I had just seen that car or swerved on time..."

I look up at him. "It was an accident, Nate. The guy ran a red light. You didn't have time to react."

His nostrils flair, jaw tensing. "I just keep thinking we wouldn't be here if we hadn't been in my car. If we called it a night at the diner, none of this would've happened. And if Rob hadn't made it, if I took him from you, I'd never forgive myself. And if he can't walk..."

I stop drawing when he trails off. "But he did make it. And I'd never blame you for this, okay? None of this is your fault, Nate." I say it sharp enough to pierce through his guilt, and I return to my drawing, hearing his mind churning next to me. 

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