“You’ll need to do these exercises three times a day, for at least five minutes each time,” the doctor is telling me.

I nod dutifully, even though I’m sweating already from the minor exertion. I wasn’t necessarily in the best shape before, but apparently being in a coma for six months really does a number on your muscles. My calves start to feel numb, even though I’ve only been doing leg raises for about a minute.

“And here is a form for your meals. Just select your meal of choice from the three options and give it to your nurse.”

“Thanks,” I say, grimacing at the thought of hospital cuisine.

“Wow, Frank, is it leg day?” a voice says from the doorway, and I glance over to see Jamia leaning on the doorframe, smirking at my sweaty face.

“Every day is leg day,” I reply, trying not to look too winded. The doctor is watching my progress so I don’t dare to take a break, even though my thighs burn like the fires of Mordor.

“All that exercise must make you hungry,” she hedges, and I notice she has one of her hands behind her back.

“Please tell me you brought food,” I pant.

Jamia grins and reveals a paper bag with the Taco Bell logo on the front. “Surprise!”

“I love you,” I inform her, and maybe that’s a weird thing to say to someone you’ve just met, but it feels like we’ve known each other forever, and she just sticks her tongue out in response.

“Excellent work, Frank,” Dr. Carlton tells me. “You can relax now. Remember to do that again this evening.”

I gratefully put my legs down. They feel like rubber. “Sure thing,” I reply wearily, and the doctor leaves with her clipboard. Jamia sets the bag on my lap, and I eagerly open it and start devouring the burrito with abandon. “Thanks for this,” I tell her earnestly with my mouth full.

Jamia’s grin turns into a small smirk as she watches me eat. Just as I’m taking the last bite, she says, “Gerard got it for you.”

I choke just a little bit, coughing before I finish swallowing the food down. My wide eyes turn on her. “Were you trying to trick me?” I ask incredulously.

“I just wanted to make sure you ate it. Wasn’t sure how you’d react.” She sits on the bed next to me. “So, should I tell him you said thanks?”

“No!” I exclaim, before reining myself in. “No need for that.” I try to sound casual, but Jamia sees right through me.

“Are you ever gonna give him a chance?” she challenges, and I gape at her.

“He terrorized me for two years, Jamia!” I protest.

“I know,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He wasn’t very nice to me either.”

My brow furrows. “Really? But, aren’t you guys friends now?”

“Yes, we are,” she responds, not explaining further. “You weren’t all that nice to me either, I’ll have you know. Yet here I am.”

I panic for a moment, trying to remember ever meeting her before. “What? I was never mean to you! I never met you!”

Jamia glares at me, but she doesn’t seem particularly angry. “We were in the same art class, Frank. I always tried to talk to you, but you ignored me.”

Cowering under her glare, and unable to recall her in the slightest, I squeak out, “Sorry?”

Jamia grins again, back to her usual cheerful self. “I forgive you,” she says easily, grabbing the empty bag and starting to leave. “You should try it sometime.”

* * *

“No, Jamia,” I hiss, trying to intimidate her into obeying.

“He won’t even enter the room,” she goes on mercilessly. It’s nearly sunset now, and the light peers in through the blinds to hit my eyes no matter where I shift. “He’ll just stand in the doorway. And I can stay in the room with you if you’re gonna be such a baby about it.”

“Jamia, I said no,” I grunt.

She ignores the desperation in my voice. “It’s happening whether you like it or not, Frank. Need I remind you that he saved your life?”

I groan and close my eyes for a second, before facing her and relenting, “I don’t have anything to say to him.”

Jamia grins brilliantly. “Not even anything bad to say? I call that progress.”

“What are you, my shrink?” I grumble, but she isn’t amused.

“Do you want me to stay in the room with you or not?”

I do my best impression of a puppy. “Please stay.”

She sits on the bed primly, and looks out the window to the hallway. “Here he comes,” she warns me, and I take a deep breath.

Notes

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