Anything but Ordinary(3)

Then the pain that had risen up so quickly vanished, and Bryce was blinking into the glare of the fluorescent lights. Her family stared back at her, still shadows of the people she knew. She wished this older, sadder version of her mom and her dad and her sister would go away and come back as their usual selves. With a pang she thought of their faces as she had last seen them, flushed and beaming above GO BRYCE! T-shirts. She had huddled with them in a big group hug. Her dad reminded her to watch the timing on her back tuck. Her mother told her to loosen her goggles, that they looked too tight.

Then Greg and Gabby jumped in behind her, and they were all smiling nervously at each other, their heads close together. Gabby reached to give Bryce’s face a couple of playful slaps. “Focus!” she cried. Greg stretched across the huddle and his lips met hers in a soft, sweet kiss.

It felt like yesterday, not five years ago.

She’d awoken from nightmares before, but…the Jell-O rose up in her stomach as she realized she would never wake up from this.

This was her life now.

“I can’t believe you guys,” Sydney said, grabbing the arms of her chair. “Why doesn’t she know that already? Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Sydney, your input is unnecessary right now.” Their father fumbled for his wallet. “I’m getting one of those crappy coffees,” he muttered and walked out of the room, their mother following, talking in a low whisper. It was the first time they’d so much as moved since she woke up.

Sydney scooted closer to the bed. She continued to stare at Bryce in disbelief, as if at any moment Bryce would disappear.

“Have they told you anything that happened?” she slurred.

Bryce stared. “Sydney, are you drunk?”

“Did they tell you about everything?” Sydney pressed on. “About Greg and Gabby?”

“That’s enough,” Bryce’s mother’s voice came sharply from the doorway. She handed her coffee to Sydney. Bryce kept her eyes on her sister, begging her to go on.

“Bryce just woke up,” her mom said in a gentler tone. She sat on the bed, crossing the long legs Bryce had inherited. She brushed hair from Bryce’s eyes. “You must be tired.”

“The opposite.” Her body was heavy, but everything else felt flurried now, like snowflakes that were scattering away, and her mind was scrambling to catch it all. She wanted to move, but instead only her eyes darted, looking at Sydney. “Do Greg and Gabby know I’m awake?”

Her mother reached out to touch Bryce’s cheek. “Let’s just slow down.”

“I agree.” Dr. Warren had reentered, flipping a page on her clipboard. “Though her vital signs are excellent, with the extraordinary amount of cerebral activity that has occurred in such a small amount of time, Bryce is at risk for any number of brain malfunctions.”

Bryce tried to meet her family’s eyes, to show them somehow she was ready to wake up. For good. She wasn’t a piece of faulty equipment breaking down, malfunctioning. She was here. She was back.

Dr. Warren put her hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “Bryce, you’ve been amazing through all of this. You’re really strong. But we don’t know what’s going to happen in the next few days, or even in the next few hours.”

Bryce barely heard. She wondered when Greg and Gabby were going to come. Were they really twenty-two years old? Was she really twenty-two years old? This was the last place she’d wanted to be in five years. She should have won at least one gold medal by now. Instead she was caught in a strait jacket of her own body.

“My one commandment is rest,” Dr. Warren went on, her voice more relaxed. “I know it seems silly, but the best thing is sleep. Okay?”

“Got it,” Bryce said, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Every second, more was coming back. Her nerves had faded, and all that was left were hard truths. She couldn’t move her legs. That needed to change. I’ve got to get going, Bryce thought. I’ve got to get back to normal.

“Say good night, everyone,” Dr. Warren continued. “You can sleep in the waiting room if you like. We’ll be watching her closely.”

Bryce’s father leaned down to kiss Bryce on the cheek. “Good night, sweetheart. We’ll be right outside.”

“See you in the morning,” her mother said, reaching down to do the same. Then she whispered in Bryce’s ear. “You don’t know how wonderful it is that I get to say that.”

“Night, Bry.” Sydney backed out of the room awkwardly.

Dr. Warren was the last to leave, smearing her makeup as she rubbed her eyes. “Get some rest.”

Bryce wished she could lift her arm to wave. They were sandbags, heavy at her sides.

The door swung open, letting in a sliver of fluorescent light from the hospital hallway. The beam of light widened into an arc across the floor as Dr. Warren paused at the entrance. Then she closed the door, muffling the noise of the hallway and leaving Bryce alone in the dark.





raham, Bryce. 3B. Neurology Wing. Vanderbilt Medical Center. Nashville, Tennessee. Third window from the right, if you’re looking up at the glassy blue side of the building. Third from the left if you’re looking out from that particular room, counting each window. Which Bryce was doing. Thirty-two, so far. Graham, Bryce. 3B. Heart rate normal. Blood pressure normal. Eyesight—blocked by a hopping cicada, trying to pass through the pane. Bryce followed the fluttering insect with her nose against the glass, making little pools of mist with her breath.