I have no idea what he’s talking about. “How the hell would I even know where my thumb was? It’s not like I’ve ever decked my boyfriend before.”
And then I remember. Tyler is so no longer my boyfriend.
Penn whistles loudly. “That must’ve been one helluva punch. I wish I could’ve been there to see it! And I hate to break it to you—no pun intended—but this is totally broken.” He flips my hand over, and the purple hue of a deep bruise is evident well across the pad of my palm, making him whistle again.
“Oh, no it’s not.” I pull away from him, grimace in pain, and pick up a pair of shorts. And then I start to pack. Because if I keep myself busy, I won’t have time to register everything that’s so evidently broken about my life, pun intended. And I won’t have time to cry.
“Sloane, you gotta go to the ER. If you don’t get that in a cast, it’s gonna stay like that, you know. And it’d be awfully hard to swim and surf this summer with a club for a hand.” He waits, but I have nothing to say, so I continue to pack—turning away when a jolt of pain shoots up my arm. He pokes my foot with the tip of his shoe, and I know it’s coming. “Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened.”
I don’t look up at him, because I know if I do, the floodgates will open. “I don’t really feel like talking about it, okay?”
I’m not even paying attention to what I’m throwing in my suitcase. For all I know, it could be my winter down jacket, which won’t be of much use in the hot summer sun of Hawaii. I bump my hand again and cringe. Penn snags the flip-flops I’m holding and chucks them into my bag.
“Stubborn isn’t going to win you any points.” He places his hands on my shoulders and steers me from the room.
“Penn, what the hell?”
“Did you not understand me when I said your hand would turn into a club? A club, Sloane, a club. And we can’t be having any of that.” Before I can respond, he sweeps down and tucks an arm under my knees, while the other circles around my back. Five seconds later, he’s carrying me downstairs.
“Dammit, Penn—if you don’t let me down this second, I’ll…I’ll break your nose, too!”
“Yeah you will.” He rolls his eyes, snagging the car keys off the peg by the garage door. Which is the exact moment the door opens and my dad steps into the kitchen.
He looks from my brother to me, with one eyebrow raised.
“She busted her hand on that d bag’s nose. We’re going to the ER,” Penn explains.
“Oh, Sloane, didn’t I ever teach you not to tuck your thumb in when you throw a punch?” my dad says, shaking his head. I know he’s only trying to lighten the mood, but it’s not really working right now.
“Ohmygod, whatever. You’re both being ridiculous; my hand is fine.” I thrust it forward so he can see for himself, but even that movement makes the blood rush from my face.
We sit in the ER waiting room, Penn on my right and my father on my left. This is the hospital my mom used to work at, and we’ve known most of the staff for years. We’re practically family here, which, lucky for me, means I won’t have to wait long.
“It’ll just be a few more minutes, Sloane—Dr. Craig will be with you shortly,” Colleen, one of the evening ER shift nurses, says as she squats down in front of me. The rubber soles of her practical shoes squeak on the slick linoleum surface of the floor. “Wow, you really did a number on your hand, didn’t you?” Her face shifts as if she’s realized something. Like I said, we’re practically family. “I don’t suppose this is in any way connected to Tyler Hudson’s broken nose?”
“Wait, what? He’s here?”
“Oh, he’s here all right—been in X-rays for the last twenty minutes. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure to put you in one of the exam rooms on the other side.” She clucks her tongue in mild disapproval, then gently pats my knee. “So how has your mom been?”
“Good, I guess. We’re headed out in the morning to spend the summer with her.” I try not to think about the fact that Tyler is somewhere within a fifty-foot radius of me right now. And then my name is called, and we’re following another nurse through the huge set of double doors that automatically ease open.
And that’s when I see him.
“Sloooo! You came!” Tyler is being pushed in a wheelchair by his dad, his mom walking next to his side.
“I hope you’re happy with yourself, young lady—Tyler will need at least two surgeries to repair what you’ve done.” His mother glares back and forth between me and my father, and I wonder if I’m going to be in some serious trouble.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Hudson, I guess I just reacted and I—”
“Reacted? Is that what you’re calling it? You practically took my son’s head off!”
Before I can say anything else, my father steps forward and says something to Tyler’s parents that I can’t hear.
“Moooommmm, stop,” Tyler croons, waving a hand in her general direction.
His once gorgeous face is now almost unrecognizable. He wears a large transparent splint that covers almost everything from his forehead to just below his nose, giving him the appearance of Hannibal Lecter. Both eyes are black-and-blue, and glassy, as if he’s heavily medicated. I can’t believe that I’m the one who did this to him.
“Man, you’re the best girlfriend ef-fer,” he slurs, wiping at his mouth with fumbling fingers.
My body stiffens at the mention of the word “girlfriend,” and I feel Penn grip my left arm as my father takes my right.
“Oh, no you don’t,” my dad says in a low voice. “I think you’ve already done enough.” They force me to walk forward, making a wide berth around Tyler, just in case.
“Sloane, whereya goin’? Man, I love youuuu.”
Everything inside me deflates. How can I suddenly feel so sad when I’m still so angry? Everything is such a mess, and I can’t stop the constant static noise of all these feelings—betrayal, frustration, and one hundred percent complete confusion. I wish I knew how to turn them off.
My dad releases my arm and motions for Penn to keep following the nurse. I turn to see him trailing the Hudsons out into the waiting room as Tyler becomes fascinated with his own fingers mere inches from his face. He’s still repeating “I love youuuu, I love youuuu…” as he turns the corner and disappears out of sight.
“Jackass,” my brother whispers as he guides me into one of the rooms. I know he’s only saying that because of what happened. After all, Tyler and Penn have always been pretty tight.
Penn is unsure of where to put his hands to help me onto the bed in the middle of the room, so he gives up and takes a seat in one of the hard, straight-back chairs. I somehow manage to climb up myself just as Dr. Craig comes in. He and my mom were good friends, and even though she is no longer a doctor here, they still keep in touch.
“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in?” His smile stretches wide across his face as he comes to stand in front of me. “And what, may I ask, have you gone and done to your hand? You didn’t tuck your thumb in when you threw the punch, did you?”