The Logan Brothers

Chapter 11 Those Who Worry

Chapter 11 - Those Who Worry

I'm not sure how long I was out, but it must have only been a few seconds. Wesley was just bending over my limp body, concern, and fear written all over his face. There was a dull, annoying ache in the back of my skull that throbbed along with my heartbeat, and my vision was a bit hazy. Even in my condition, I knew exactly what had happened; I had fainted when Wes tried to ask me out.

How f*****g perfect.

I had done stupid things before. Hell, I had done the stupidest things in the world. But this was definitely the cherry on top of my idiotic escapades. How was I ever supposed to look at Wes' face ever again?

"Are you okay?" He quickly asked, grabbing the sides of my head. I was still flat on my back, a bit dazed. It was clear Wesley was starting to panic, though. "You just fell over! What's wrong?"

Something told me that, your date proposal made me so light headed that I passed out, was not the right answer.

"I...I just got really dizzy, that's all." I managed to squeak, propping myself up on my elbows. The whole room spun, and a wave of nausea washed over me. "I don't feel too great."

"You look awful," Wes grimaced, wrinkling his nose. Quickly realizing his mistake, he carried on. "In the best way possible, I mean."

I chuckled, "Gee, you sure know how to charm the ladies." He smiled weakly, grabbing me under the armpits and scooping me up. I was expecting him to set me on the couch, but instead, he positioned me in his arms bridal style. I blinked a few times, confused. If he didn't put me down soon there was a good chance I would barf all over his face. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you to the hospital." He stared blankly, walking determinedly towards the front door. My heart leaped; hospitals and I didn't exactly get along.

"I'm fine, Wes. Put me down." Suddenly, I was angry. I didn't know why, but I felt this flash of rage towards Wesley. He hadn't done anything wrong, but he was trying to take me to the hospital. That wasn't necessary! "Wesley!" I screeched, and my head immediately protested. Agonizing pain shot through my skull, making me groan.

He sighed in sympathy, "You're acting like you have a concussion, Immy. I have to take you to the ER." Damn it, I hated when he was right. I had been around Grayson's football accidents enough in my life to know that when you felt like this, there was something wrong with your brain. I was dizzy, nauseous, lethargic, and emotional. I needed to be seen by a doctor.

"Fine," I groaned as he set me in the car, resting my head on the back of the chair, "But on the way, you're getting me ice cream." Even as he shut the door, I could hear him laughing. It was a nice sound, one that I had come to love over the years. It was soothing, calming, and made me feel safe. I was slowly becoming tired, my eyelids were growing heavy.

Needless to say, I drifted off to sleep soon after the car started. I didn't get my ice cream, and the next thing I knew I was laying in a hospital bed, Wesley by my side. I groaned and licked my dry lips, attempting to look around the room to get a better feel for my surroundings. "Careful there," Wes warned, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, "You have a pretty bad concussion."

"I'm fine," I dismissed, pushing myself up on my elbows. We were sitting in a small space enclosed by a thin curtain.

Suddenly, there was a laugh beside me, "That's my daughter all right, always saying she's fine when she's not."

"Mom!" I exclaimed, taking her in. She was still wearing her scrubs, her hair was in a careless, messy bun on top of her head, and the bags under her eyes seemed to be getting darker by the second. Bottom line, she was exhausted, and I was glad to see her sitting down, even under the circumstances.

She shook her head, "How did you do this, Imogen? Wesley wouldn't tell me." Uh oh, trouble. I didn't know if I was allowed to tell her everything, but something told me to leave out a few minor - okay, maybe major - details.

"I passed out," I explained, biting my lip. "I haven't eaten anything since breakfast." That wasn't a lie, I was just now realizing it myself. I had spent all day at the lake, in the water. Come to think of it, none of us had eaten lunch or dinner. Oops. "I haven't really drunk much either."

Mom sighed, "Honestly, I expect better from you. You spend all day with your nose in some sort of book, and yet you can't remember to eat food? Weren't you hungry?" Her eyes were kind, but I could tell she was a little bit frustrated. Who could blame her?

"Sorry," I squeaked, feeling awkward. There's nothing worse than being scolded by a parent when a friend is in your presence. Wesley's comfortableness was radiating off of him in waves. I could hear him squirming around, probably scratching the back of his neck for lack of something better to do.

"I'm not mad at you," She finally said after a pause, "I was just worried, that's all. I'll go get your release forms, they said you could go after you woke up." And with that, she stood and left, tossing the curtain aside with a flick of her wrist.

Slowly, I turned to Wesley. He was smiling slightly, eyes twinkling, "And here I thought you fainted because of my overwhelming charm." Inwardly, I swooned. We were going straight back to the flirting words and witty remarks, were we? I didn't know if I could handle that.

"Shut up," I chuckled, rolling my eyes. "You have about as much charm as a donkey."

"Ouch. Come on, Immy. You know I'm good looking." Oh yes, I knew. I was all too aware of his sparkling blue eyes that were assessing my every move. He was clearly still worried, even though we were joking around. I could tell by his stiff posture and jittery fingers that were drumming on the arm of his chair.

"Your modesty is overwhelming," I remarked sarcastically, giving him a pointed look. He just smiled brightly at me, well aware of the fact he was being annoying. With a swish of the curtain, my mom came back in.

She looked at me, "You're set to go. Wesley, make her eat something on the way home. I don't need to get back tomorrow morning and find her passed out on the stairs."

I frowned, "You're not coming home tonight?" I knew she was working hard in the intern program, but another night shift? That was her third one that week, which was pushing it.

"I can't, I have an amazing surgery lined up!" The look of pure joy on her face was similar to a child's on Christmas. She genuinely loved what she was doing, who was I to stop her? She had sacrificed so much for me in her life, I needed to make this as easy as possible for her. But she wasn't exactly making it easy on herself. "Actually, I'm going to be late to scrub in. I'll see you in the morning." After a quick kiss on the forehead, she sprinted off, weaving her way around the doctors and patients cluttering the hall.

"She looks exhausted," Wes commented, slowly standing to his feet. "Is she okay?"

"I honestly don't know," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. The pain in my skull was slowly starting to subside, now just a dull ache any time I moved suddenly. "Can we just get out of here?"

Wes must've sensed my need to leave as soon as possible; he didn't hesitate to wrap his arm around my waist and help me to my feet. Silently, I let my weight slump against his body, because I was suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of dizziness. Great, I was practically disabled. This was wonderful. "Careful there, you'll be a little light headed for a few days."

"I figured that out," I snapped irritably, yanking myself away from him. The sudden outburst was unexpected even for me, but I didn't regret it. He was treating me like a baby, and I just had a little concussion. It wasn't like I was dying or anything.

His face said it all, he was offended. He coughed awkwardly, "Okay then. Come on, let's go." Grabbing my hand hesitantly, he flung the curtain aside and lead me out of our little make-shift room. Suddenly, I was bombarded by light and antsy figures rushing about. Everyone had somewhere to go in a hurry, no one cared if they bumped someone's shoulder on the way.

As hectic as it was, I couldn't help but notice there was a certain beauty to it. All the doctors and nurses were trying to help someone, to save their life, and they didn't care if they practically ran someone over while doing so. Their top priority was helping their patient, not common hallway courtesy. Maybe that's why I wanted to be a surgeon, like my mom, someday. Or maybe it was because I saw her dedication and passion, and I wanted the same thing in a job.

"You okay?" Wes asked, looking at me like I was about to shatter into a million pieces. I grunted in response, pushing the door of the ER open. Sure, he was being overly protective, but I shouldn't have been so irritated. I think I was just mad at myself for treating him so poorly, and yet I couldn't stop. "Someone's in a mood." He muttered darkly.

In the middle of the parking lot, I spun on my heels to face him. It was dark; the warm summers breeze ruffled my hair as I glared at him fiercely. "Come again?" I growled, grinding my teeth. Wes took a step back, startled.

"Calm down, Immy. Why are you so goddamn moody?!" He held his hands up in surrender, showing me he was backing down. "No offense, but you need to quit treating me like a piece of shit."

"Well I'm sorry I'm such a b***h," I sneered, turning my back on him and walking away. As I stomped off, I realized I didn't have my car. Wes had driven me. Damn it! Why was it so hard to prove a point?!

"I didn't say that!" Wesley quickly exclaimed, jumping forward and grabbing my shoulder. I shrugged it off and kept walking, not quite sure where I was walking to. "Look, I'm sorry. Will you please get in my car so we can get you something to eat?"

I reached the sidewalk and paused under a street lamp. Cars were rushing by on the busy access road, creating a soft roar in my ears. "You don't get it, do you?!" I cried, throwing my arms in the air. "Why are you boys so freaking hard headed?!"

Wes' face contorted in confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?!" I'll admit it, I wasn't really sure what I was talking about. The meds they had given me for my headache must've been screwing around with my brain because I had no control over the words that were flying out of my mouth. It was like word vomit, and was just as unpleasant as the real thing.

I sighed, "You're so frustrating."

"Well, you're annoying." He retorted, crossing his arms.

"You're infuriating."

"You're stubborn."

"You're stupid!"

"You're dumb!"

Glaring at each other, our anger slowly simmered to a still. Snorting, I fought a smile. We were like little kids arguing over something petty and insignificant. I'm pretty sure everyone driving by thought we were stupid, teenage idiots. Wes' lips trembled, and suddenly he burst out laughing, offering me a hand. "Come on, Imogen, please. Let me take you to get some food."

Right on cue, my stomach grumbled loudly. I was reminded that I hadn't eaten all day, and all of a sudden I couldn't wait to get some sort of sustenance in my body. I took his outstretched hand, intertwined my fingers with his, and let him drag me back to the parking lot.

How was it that I could go to being infuriated with Wesley, to loving him in a matter of seconds? We hardly ever fought, but when we did it was about stupid things, like nothing at all. That was just our relationship; we fought like siblings, but then right back to being best friends in a heartbeat. I had a nagging feeling that I should still be upset, but my heart had been filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling, and there was no getting rid of it.

As we drove off, Wes kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. I could tell he was nervous because of the way his fingers were drumming on the steering wheel. "What?" I questioned, narrowing my eyebrows suspiciously.

"Nothing," He said, a little too quickly. I glared at him, hoping that my stare was piercing through his thick skull. I knew him too well, he couldn't hide things from me. "Quit staring at me, Ice Queen. You won't break me."

Huffing, I crossed my arms and leaned back in my seat. "I can tell something's bothering you. Why won't you tell me what it is?"

With a kind smile, he said gently, "I'm fine. You're the one we have to worry about, Immy." Damn the stupid concussion! Did he really have to keep reminding me that I had passed out the very second he had asked me out?

Holy crap.

That's what he was nervous about! He was trying to decide whether to ask me again or not. Honestly, I didn't want to bring it up again. Sure, it was my lack of sustenance and hydration that had caused me to pass out, but I wasn't sure my fragile heart could handle being asked out again. This was Wes, and although he got my heart drumming I wasn't sure I wanted to be more than friends.

We fell into a tense, uncomfortable silence. I had a feeling he knew what I was thinking, almost like he could read my mind. It wasn't a secret anymore, he had told me that he likes me, but I hadn't been clear on my feelings on the matter. I knew I should have cleared the air and gotten rid of the elephant in the room all in one blow, but, like the chicken I was, I strayed away from the opportunity.

"So, uh, how's your summer going?" It was a lame attempt at a conversation, but at least I was putting in some effort. If I had left it up to Wes we would've been sitting quietly the whole car ride. Wes snuck a glance at me, swallowing hard.

"Pretty uneventful, but good. You?" He asked. I had been hoping for a bit more detail, but clearly, that wasn't going to happen. It was up to me to fill the silence. Great.

"Great so far. I've been reading this new series, The Mortal Instruments, that I'm absolutely in love with."

"I've heard of that, what's it about?"

Smiling, I jumped into what I could already tell was going to be a lengthy explanation. "Well you see, there's this girl named Clary and..." When you got me on the topic of books, I could go on for hours, especially if it was a series I loved. And so I went on and on, describing in great detail every single thing that happened in the books I had read so far. Wes seemed genuinely interested, which I appreciated even if it was just to make me feel good.

We drove through Mc. Donald's on the way home, picking me up a cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake. The second the food hit my mouth was like heaven, and I devoured the burger, along with a large French fry, before we pulled into the Logan's driveway. As I crumpled up my trash, Wes turned off the car and turned to me.

"Do you need anything else? Should I walk you home to make sure you're okay?" He asked, placing a hand over my forearm. After eating so much food, I felt a lot better. That irritableness was gone, replaced with my usual, cheery attitude.

"I'll be fine, Wes, don't worry about me. I'm just going to take some Advil and go to sleep." I said, giving him a reassuring smile. He smiled back, nodding slowly.

"Alright," Slowly, he leaned forward, placing his soft lips lightly on my cheek. It was so soft, so tentative, that I wasn't even positive it was there. My heart leaped and my cheeks turned a shade redder. At that moment, I was thankful for the darkness we were sitting in. Maybe he didn't notice. "Good night, Immy."

"Good night, Wesley," I whispered, quickly grabbing his hand and squeezing it before I lost the courage. As fast as I could, I gathered up the garbage and rushed from the car. I didn't want to have to look at Wes' face after our affectionate exchange. I wasn't sure what to make of it; that was definitely a conversation for another day.