Evander
TWO WEEKS LATER
BEEP!
The shrill beep of the heart monitor jolts me out of a half-sleep.
My neck snaps upright, heart hammering, already braced for the worst.
A nurse is leaning over Reyna.
My fists unclench slowly, but I can’t shake the sweat slicking my palms.
“She’s stable,” the nurse whispers, like I might break if she says it any louder.
Then she leaves, heels squeaking down the hall.
I'm left alone with the steady beep of machines, white walls that seem to be getting closer, and an unconscious Reyna in the hospital bed.
The sting of bleach and disinfectant fills the room.
I drag my hands over my face.
Two weeks.
Two weeks of this stiff chair digging into my back, skipping practice, barely eating and ignoring my phone.
Two weeks of waiting for her to open h
