Foolish Games (44 page)

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Authors: Leah Spiegel

BOOK: Foolish Games
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“Screech!” The eerie sound became louder when the drums started to suddenly tip overhead of us and then crashed on the ground below.
“It won’t hold our weight,” Hawkins groaned.
“What should we do?”
The fabric ripped a little more, causing us to bob up and down for a second. It felt like my heart was now lodged in my throat. Just then a snare drum barely missed knocking us down the rest of the way. I couldn’t help but scream out. Hawkins pulled me into him and grunted, “Here, hold on.” He helped slip the strap around my shoulder and arm. Confused by how this would be better, I was shocked when Hawkins searched my eyes lovingly and confessed, “I love you, Joie.”
In the next second, he slipped out of the strap and plummeted to the ground. “NOOOOOO!” I screamed.
As he fell, Hawkins reached out for the circular contraption below, but only grasped onto it for a few seconds before his fingers slipped right off. He fell down to the ground and whacked his head off the base of the drum set, knocking him out instantly. Crying hysterically, I dangled back and forth by his guitar strap while feeling completely helpless as he continued to just lay there. The lighting panels over top of me threatened to collapse as I closed my eyes, waiting for my death. There was a loud whapping boom up above and then only silence. The screen had fallen over, but due to the mesh of cables stopped just above my head. Flashes of the nightmarish ride with Cyrus still flickered above me and I sobbed while yelling for someone to help Hawkins.
A few crew members raced to Hawkins, who still wasn’t moving down below. Another group came and raised the circular contraption up in my direction. Harlow was standing inside it. “Let go, Joie.” He nodded encouragingly. “I have you.”
Defeated, I dropped my arms, not caring if I made it onto the damn thing or not. A short fall later, I was in Harlow’s strong grasp. “Are you okay?”
My knees caved and I sobbed uncontrollably in his chest.
“Easy there,” Harlow murmured as we were lowered to the ground.
“Is Hawkins,” I heaved, “is Hawkins okay?”
“Yes,” he spoke softly and I felt a swell of relief as I looked up at him.
“He’s breathing. We called an ambulance.”
By the time we reached the bottom, the paramedics had already rolled in a stretcher. Running over to kneel by Hawkins, who had still not come around yet, I was pushed away by a member of the emergency crew.
“Is he going to be okay?!”
“Honey, you’re going to need to back up,” the paramedic ordered. Harlow gently pulled me back by my shoulders. They quickly checked his vitals before they put an oxygen mask around his mouth. He started to come around again and I rushed over to the stretcher once again. He looked so pale and weak when I took his hand.
“Joie,” he heaved making the oxygen mask fog up. It was all the strength he had to say before he squeezed my hand. Again, I was gently pushed back by the paramedic and our fingers released from each other. “No, don’t,” he gulped, “no.” He went to move his oxygen mask, but the lady fussed at him. “Joie.” He reached his hand out for me and I reached out for him until our fingers intertwined again. The emergency crew gave up on trying to separate us as they raced him down the hallway with me beside him.
The exit doors were pushed open and they lifted his stretcher up into the ambulance with me right behind him. Sitting on the side, I tried to stay out of the way as we continued to hold hands. Hawkins was slowly looking better with each passing minute. “I didn’t,” he gasped then swallowed. “I didn’t want to leave you back there unprotected,” he croaked. “I still don’t know,” he sounded fearful, “who to trust.”
He gulped again and I caressed his cheek with the back of my hand while he closed his eyes. “It’s over,” I said soothingly. “No one’s going to hurt me now.” I gently ran my thumb back and forth across his cheek. He started to close his eyes again when the paramedic ordered, “Stay with us.” He was fighting to keep his eyes open when they rolled back into his head and then shut.
“Hawkins!” I squeezed his hand before being pushed back against the cool metal side of the ambulance so that the paramedic could tend to him.
Before I knew it, the ambulance shook as it went over the speed bump in front of the hospital. The doors were flung open and a wash of fluorescent lights lit up the ground below. They lowered the stretcher with Hawkins on it and transported him into the emergency room. Running to keep up, a nurse stopped me, showed me the waiting room, and said someone would be out as soon as they knew anything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

14. PREFERENCES

 

 

The waiting room had a dozen or so other, less serious, patients and family members who looked bored as they watched Judge Judy on the T.V. overhead. I could have taken one of the many choices of seats around the room, but I just paced back and forth to the side by the vending machine. It didn’t take long until I recognized Rob Harlow rushing through the emergency doors. Stopping for a second, I looked for Riley as he came in behind him. I ran along the glass doorway and right into Riley’s arms.
“Is he okay?” Riley murmured in my hair.
“I don’t know.” I sniffled from crying. “They just took him back.”
Turning towards Harlow, who was pretending to watch television up above while giving us as much privacy as possible, I said, “Thanks for rescuing me earlier.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “It is
my
equipment…” he drifted off when I sensed that a part of him blamed himself for what happened tonight.
“I’m just glad that you were there,” Harlow added, looking over at Riley. I was so used to Harlow acting like we were this nuisance he had to put up with, so I was thrown to hear him talk to us like we were equals, even friends.
“I couldn’t have done it if you didn’t listen to me,” Riley reminded him. “You could have just as easily believed what Miller was trying to tell you at first.”
“After the other night when you stepped in to help, listening to what you had to say was the least that I thought I owed you. Especially when I’ve been,” Harlow hesitated then confessed, “such a jerk.” He quickly cleared his throat and thumbed over his shoulder towards the admitting station. “Anyway, I’m going to go see if they have a more private place for the band because this waiting room will be filled with fans soon. The last thing anyone needs to be thinking about right now is signing autographs.”
“Cool.” Riley nodded as Harlow turned to head over to the check-in desk.
“Rileyyyy,” I whispered only loud enough for only him to hear. “What did you do to Harlow?”
“I just handed him the tape, I swear.” He cracked a grin. “You should have seen us on the drive over. Neither one of us said a word. I could tell that he wanted to say something, but he was just as nervous as I was. He was fidgeting with the air conditioner, asking
me
if I was okay. Best ten minutes of my life.” He smiled goofily.
“Speaking of crazy turn of events,” Riley continued. “Did you know that Lizzie is back with Ryan?”
“I may have heard something about that.” I smiled to myself. Glancing around the emergency room made my stomach churn. There was something cold and distant about hospitals. It made my chest tighten with fear. What if Hawkins wasn’t okay?
Ten minutes later, we were ushered into a small waiting room off limits to the public to avoid the fans that had already begun to swarm the emergency room. It felt like eternity by the time we finally heard some constructive news on Hawkins’ wellbeing. A doctor who was dressed in light blue scrubs and a white lab coat entered the room. He held up his hands when a few of us rushed him with questions. “He’s stable for now, but we’re still waiting for his test results to come back from the lab. We wanted him to rest, but he was adamant that he needed to see,” he looked down at his clipboard and continued, “Warren Bingley and Joie Hall.” He turned and headed back through the emergency doors with us behind him.
We walked down a hallway where drawn curtain dividers to our left provided privacy for the patients occupying them. A nurse station to the right had a tall, white counter extending the length of the room before curving around another hallway. Doctors and nurses were working busily behind it. It was the typical kind chaos of any urban emergency room. The doctor we were following finally stopped, pulled back a curtain, and motioned for us to enter. Hawkins was resting on a hospital bed that faced us. There was scary medical equipment surrounding the back of the bed.
Hawkins smiled up at Warren who led the way into the room. His smile grew even bigger when he looked around Warren and saw me. Although he looked tired and pale, I was relieved to see that he was in such good condition. I felt a world of concern lift off my shoulders. Sinking down in one of the nearby seats, I reached out to take his hand.
Warren filled him in on all the details about Harrison’s arrest so that Hawkins didn’t have to worry for me any longer. Though he would never admit it, I knew that he was scared, too, since he had trusted Harrison with his life. After Warren eased his fears, he gave us a little time to be alone.
Getting up from the chair, I came over to the side of his bed. “Move over.” I nudged him. He slid over a little so I could snuggle up to him in the hospital bed. “I have a job to do,” I reminded him while I rested my head against his chest.
“And that would be?” he asked.
“I’m your personal body warmer, remember?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He played along while brushing back my hair. “I just thought you wanted to be near me.”
“Umm, hello, the economy is crazy right now.” I wrapped my arm around his broad chest. “I’ve got to do any job I can find.”
“Is that what we’re telling the press now? That I pay you to warm my body up?” He laughed then grimaced. “Ah, man it hurts to laugh.”
Lifting my head off his chest, I looked up at him. “You can tell them whatever you like,” I said honestly. “But you should probably leave out the part where we did more than just blog about each other,” I added. “Technically there was some kissing and ass grabbing. They might frown upon that,” I noted dutifully as my chin rested on his chest.
“It’s probably good that we get our stories straight.” A smile lit up his face. “I mean we have been known to disagree.”
“What!” I asked innocently. “Who, us?!”
A nurse walked in, but she instantly seemed to sense that she had interrupted something. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“No, it’s fine.” Pulling away from Hawkins was one of the hardest things for me to do, but I forced myself when the doctor came in right behind her.
The doctor looked over Hawkins’ chart. “Besides the concussion,” he sifted through the test results, “everything else looks fine, no fractures, no internal bleeding.” The doctor looked up from the chart. “I’m going to prescribe something for the pain and then we’ll let you go. Just make sure you come back if you start to feel disoriented or sick.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” the doctor added while presenting Hawkins with a piece of paper and a pen. “But my younger daughter is such a fan.”
“No problem.” Hawkins flashed his brilliant smile when my phone rang. Pulling out my cell, I looked down at “Mom” flashing on the screen. Holding up a finger to Hawkins, I slipped behind the curtain and into the busy hallway. After taking a deep breath, I sighed and thought, well, here goes nothing. Flipping open the phone, I answered, “Hello?”
“Josephine Hall!” I grimaced while holding the phone away from my ear. “You lied to me! It’s all over the nightly news.”
“About that Mom.” I bit my lip nervously. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you’ll be when you come home!”
“I’m not coming home, Mom.” I looked down the hallway then turned my back to it while trying to keep my voice down.
“What do you mean?” she snapped.
“I’m staying for the rest of the tour.” I heard my voice quiver, but I was certain that I wasn’t leaving Hawkins any time soon.
“Is this because of that rock star?”
“Hawkins, Mom,” I corrected her, “His name is J.T. Hawkins.”
“Did he get you knocked up?”

What
, no, Mom.” Groaning, I rolled my eyes.
“How am I supposed to just sit back and let you throw your life away for a guy?” she huffed.
Just trying to breathe, I let her continue her rant, knowing that it wouldn’t change my mind.
“It will only end badly,” she warned.
“I hope that you are wrong.” I felt my stomach churn.
“He’ll just move on to another girl.”
God, Mom! I stared dejectedly down at the ground.
“How do you know that he doesn’t have something going on with Lizzie, too?”
“I’m not you, Mom, and he isn’t dad.”
“What are you going to do? Chase a band around for the rest of your life?”
“Actually.” I whirled around and suddenly stopped to look up at Hawkins who was now fully clothed. I could tell by his expression that not only had he overheard the entire conversation, but that he was waiting to hear my answer, too. “Yes,” I confessed. “Yes, I am, Mom.” I looked up into those loving blue eyes that seemed satisfied with my answer. I was giving him what he wanted. I was choosing him.

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