451 Stitches (1/2)

Mr. Atkins hurried me to his car, where Mrs. Atkins was waiting. Seeing that both of their attention and concern were focused on me, I started to feel guilty. They had four other boys to care about. Boys that were their blood-related sons.

"I don't think you both should leave..." I told them, worried that I might get in trouble for speaking up. "The boys would really want you guys to be there to celebrate. We just won league after all."

"Oh, honey," Mrs. Atkins laid a hand on my left shoulder. She bent her knees so we could be eye to eye, making me feel uncomfortable. "We know it's a big win for you boys, but you're hurt. Your health comes first."

"I'm okay, it doesn't hurt." I told her.

Mrs. Atkins looked slightly stressed. "Jake. We need to make sure you're okay. Not that we don't believe you, but if we mess up now, that could lead to more trouble down the road."

"I just feel like you guys are worried over nothing and I don't want to pull you away from the boys." I really don't want the boys to get mad at me for taking their parents away too.

"Son." Mr. Atkins put an arm around his wife, helping her stand tall once more. "We're not treating you any differently than we would treat the boys. If any of them were in need of going to the hospital, that would be the priority." It was like he could read my mind. "Now get in. At this rate, the boys might beat us there."

His words comforted me and my anxiety on the matter. Mr. Atkins could relate to a certain extent about my insecurities. Although our circumstances were different, the impact that it had on us were nearly the same. I want to be like him though, more open and forgiving. Mr. Atkins is my role model for what I want to be like when I grow up. Looking at him, you wouldn't be able to tell that he had a rough patch in his teens. Heck, Noah didn't even know what his grandfather had done to his father.

***

The ER visit was surprisingly slow-going. The only ever time I've been to the ER was for my near death experience and I wasn't awake for the most of it. It was bam, boom, and I woke up in a private room. Now that I'm not dying, it was just a long wait.

Mrs. Atkins was responsible for checking me in, while Mr. Atkins called the boys. They were still on their way back to the school, so Mr. Atkins instructed that they go home and take a shower first before checking in on us.

It took time before I was called back, and then it took longer before a doctor walked in. Mr. and Mrs. Atkins didn't push me for conversation and instead settled on talking about their work and what needed to be done this week before the weekend, when they do open houses.

"Jake Hollander." An older woman in a white lab coat walked in. She looked at the Atkins. "Are you two the parents?"

An awkward pause settled before Mr. Atkins stood up and shook her hand. "I'm Wayne and this is my wife, Mary. We're the legal guardians of Jake."

The doctor understood his introduction. They weren't my parents. She came over to the bed I was sitting on. "An open wound on the upper forearm...can I take look?"

I held out my bandage arm.

She slowly unwrapped to reveal a nice size gash that went short way on my arm. She started her examination, having me move my fingers, hand, wrist, bend the elbow; does this hurt and does that make you feel any pain. We went through it all.

"Let's do an X-ray to be on the safe side." She glanced at the Atkins. They both nodded in agreement. She looked at me. "After we get the 'okay' from radiology, I'll send in a physician assistant to close up the wound."

I reluctantly nodded. My stay was becoming longer and longer. By the time I went for the x-ray, got the results, and the PA came in, I was dead tired.

I yawned as the PA explained that the X-ray came back clear and that I would be free to go after the stitches. She then brought in the supplies and started to work.