Phoebe stroked my hair soothingly, my head in her lap and my body curled up on the couch. I yawned and smiled in content; I loved when people played with my hair.

“How are you?” she asked softly.

“Happy. Excited. Nervous. Sad.”

“That's a wide range of emotions,” she laughed. “Why?”

“I’m happy because… well, I’m happy, you know,” I said, my cheeks warming up. “And I’m excited because I feel positive about things right now, even the operation I’m excited for. And I’m nervous for the operation, nervous for other things, too… and I’m sad thinking about… well, you know. They go on tour soon…” my voice trailed off as I finished explaining my conflicting emotions. “I bet you feel the same way I do,” I added.

“You’re right,” she gently patted my cheek. “What are we going to do?” she groaned dramatically. I smiled and turned so I was laying on my back, facing up.

“Just you and me, sista! Like old times!” I cheered excitedly.

“You’re right! It won’t be too bad. What the fuck, though? When did we become so dependent on men! We don’t need them!” I grinned at her, nodding in agreement through a fit of giggles.

“What’s this business about not needing men?” a voice chimed. I widened my eyes and Phoebe laughed.

“I’m just kidding, babe,” she said, and the couch shifted as Vic sat next to her.

“Hi Faye,” he said.

“Hey,” I replied. Phoebe continued to play with my hair so I stayed in my laying position. “I didn’t know you were here,” I observed.

“I let myself in,” he said nonchalantly. I furrowed my eyebrows but Vic just laughed. “Phoebe texted me, telling me to come in,” he clarified. I nodded and smiled.

“Well, where’s your brother?” I asked, sitting up and resting my head on Phoebe’s shoulder.

“Oo, your boyfriend?” Phoebe poked my cheeks.

I blushed and frowned simultaneously. “How are you still teasing me over this? It’s been two weeks!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms over my chest in a pout; although, I was secretly amused by their mutual excitement for Mike and I. I guess Mike having a girl friend was just as an oddity as me having a boyfriend. I smiled, thinking about him. Despite everything, despite how I couldn’t be as good as a girl friend as, say, Phoebe was to Vic, despite how I couldn’t give him everything he might desire, he still wanted to be with me, as if just being next to me holding my hand was more than enough to satisfy his needs.

“It’s fucking cute, okay?” Phoebe reasoned, Vic humming in agreement.

“Well you guys are annoying, stop,” I rolled my eyes, unable to fight the smile off of my face, though. “But seriously, where is he?”

“He’s asleep.”

“He loves his sleep,” I noted lowly with a small smile.

“I’ll be right back!” Phoebe suddenly announced, standing up abruptly.

“You okay?” I heard Vic murmur quietly to her. Phoebe replied in an affirmative breath before I heard her light footsteps dart away. I furrowed my eyebrows but didn’t think much of it. “Hey, Faye,” Vic started. I smiled and raised an eyebrow at him. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?” I laughed.

“Well, I don’t know exactly. It’s just ever since you started dating my brother, he’s been in great moods and he’s such a happier guy, he doesn’t smoke as much and he really doesn’t drink anymore, except maybe a beer or two with me, but nothing hard and always responsibly. He’s grown up,” he explained.

“Oh,” I said slowly, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Yeah, I just, uh, I just think you’re good for him. I can really tell how genuine he is about you, I promise you he is and none of this is bullshit. I just felt the need to tell you this, especially since we’re going away soon.”

“Aw, Vic,” I smiled softly. “Thanks for telling me. It means a lot to hear.” Vic wordlessly patted my arm; I imagined that he smiled happily. It was cute how he looked out for his little brother like this. “And Phoebe’s really happy, too, you know,” I said. “I mean, she’s always happy, but I think she’s really stressed too and I think you kind of relieve that stress. Let her have a life outside of, I guess, always lookin’ out for me… and… yeah,” I rambled, rubbing the back of my neck.

Vic chuckled. “As she lets me have a life outside of music,” he said. There was a pause, and I imagined him smiling. “I really like her, Faye. Thank you for sharing,” he teased lightly. I giggled and he nudged me.

“So… are you excited for tour?” I asked.

“Yeah! We have a really busy year ahead of us, tours on tours, but I think things will be fine,” he said. “I wish we could drag you ladies along with us, that would make it a lot better,” he added. I smiled sadly.

“Well, you guys can do what you do best and we’ll see you when we see you,” I shrugged my shoulders.

“You will see us, soon,” he said slyly, poking my cheek like how Phoebe does. I laughed and swatted his hand away.

“I sure hope so,” I mumbled.

“When’s the operation, again? March something?”

“Yeah, March sixth,” I said.

“Oh, sweet! We’ll be home by then!” he said excitedly. “Not for long, but that’s good. Mike will be happy about that.” I smiled and nodded. “Speak of the devil,” he mumbled. “He just texted me. He says ‘hi’.”

“Hi, Mike,” I giggled.

“Oh, I have to get going. Band practice.”

“Don’t go forgetting your responsibilities because of us!” I exclaimed worriedly.

Vic chuckled and patted my arm. “Don’t worry, I’m not.” The seat lifted as he stood up.

“Where did Phoebe go?” I asked, standing up, as well.

“Uh,” he started, dragging it out as he presumably looked around. “There she is. Hey,” he greeted her.

“Hi. You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, we have band practice. I was just stopping by for a few minutes before,” he said. “You okay?” he added, his voice lower.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m great. Have a good practice,” she smiled. I heard their lips peck together and Vic said bye to me. I smiled and waved politely and turned to Phoebe when he was gone.

“What’s going on?” I asked, reaching out for her. My hand found her face and I stroked her cheek with my thumb.

“I just felt a little sick, that’s all,” she said. I furrowed my eyebrows.

“What kind of sick?”

“Just under the weather a little, nothing too serious. I'm fine,” she reassured. “I’m going to lay down for a little bit, though,” she added.

“Aw, okay. Want me to lay down with you?”

“No, I don’t want to get you sick right before your operation stuff. I’m fine, I promise,” she insisted. I frowned slightly but nodded anyway.

“Okay, Phoebes. Just yell for me if you need me, alright? I’ll just be in my room reading,” I said. I had a new book Phoebe bought me for Christmas, in Braille of course. It was an easy read and I enjoyed the story. In the beginning, Braille was hard for me to learn, especially because I refused to believe that I was blind, so I thought learning it was unnecessary—even as an eleven year old I was stubborn. But, now, reading Braille came just as naturally as how any person would normally read.

“Okay,” she said quietly. Without another word, Phoebe’s presence disappeared. I sighed and walked to my room, taking out my book.

The story basically traced the lives of an Indian family living in America. It sounded boring on the cover, but the writing style was fantastic and it was easy to follow. I normally didn’t prefer third person, but the author of the book pulled it off well, giving the reader a perfect taste of every little detail. It was centered around the husband and wife, at first, but then transitioned into their first born child’s life, growing up in American culture but with unmistakable Indian roots. Time went by fast in the book, every chapter a year or even a few years later than the last. By chapter six, the boy—his given name Gogol but his newly adopted name Nikhil—was in his late twenties, out of college and everything. It was an interesting story about his life, growing up, going through many obstacles, like identity crises and cultural confusions, hence the title of the book—the namesake.

I felt like I sort of could relate to the main character. Who was I, really? Just a blind girl, with a blind identity because she couldn’t see the world around her, thus she couldn’t connect to anything? I always tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter—it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter! It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see the landscape or setting around me. It was about the people, not the place. Hopefully the main character of this book would figure that out soon, just so I could, too.

I turned the page quickly—probably too quickly because the paper caught my finger and skimmed over my skin. It burned, and I hissed, bringing the paper cut to my mouth. I sucked on it a little as I continued to read with my other hand. My thoughts were interrupted, though, when I heard a shriek and then a loud crash.

“Phoebe? What was that?” I called frantically, jumping off of my bed and racing to the hallway. I looked around as if that would actually do something, awaiting her reply. But my voice was just an echo in the house, the only sound that could be heard. “Phoebes?” I called again, but there was no answer. I suddenly became very nervous when the house remained silent, the only sounds audible being my heavy breathing and occasionally creaks in the walls.

I couldn’t panic, though. The worst thing I could do was panic. I took a deep breath and walked forward to where the kitchen was. My nerves were shot from the noise, and I didn’t want to get lost. I suddenly became paranoid that I wasn’t in the kitchen, that I had walked into some nameless hallway or imaginary room, that I would be trapped forever. Hastily, I turned and slapped my hands on the nearest wall. I felt the wall nearest to me, my hands running over wooden edges—cabinets. I was in the kitchen. I breathed a small sigh of relief.

The thump and scream that I had heard sounded like it was coming from a room over to the left. If I wasn’t mistaken, it was the living room. I traced my hands across the wall as I walked, still afraid that I would get lost if I didn’t do so even though it was a short distance away.

“Phoebe?” I continued to call her name as I slowly walked, careful to not trip over anything. Phoebe and I were normally very clean—we didn’t typically keep things out of place for two reasons: one, Phoebe was a neat freak, and, two, it would cause great loads of stress on me if something wasn’t where it normally was.

I cursed, though, when I did trip over something. Of course that had to happen now when I needed to find Phoebe. I shrieked as I fell forward, and I felt a sharp pain in my wrists as I used them to support my hard landing. “Shit,” I muttered. Ignoring the throbbing in my hands—adrenaline coursing through my veins as the urgency to find Phoebe increased—I felt around the floor to find (and pick up) what I had tripped over.

My hands first made contact with soft cloth that felt like cotton. As I explored more, the feeling of something silky tangled in my shaking fingertips. I furrowed my eyebrows, but then I suddenly became aware of what I was touching when my hands met a surface that reminded me of skin. I touched the flesh, feeling for the features that I knew were there—Phoebe’s face!

“Ah! Phoebe!” I screeched, knowing exactly where her shoulders were and shaking them. “Phoebe? Wake up!” I touched her face again, feeling for injuries. As my hand moved up to the top of her forehead, something sticky melted on my fingertips. My stomach dropped as I brought my fingers to my nose to smell—a metallic, warm substance. Blood.

“Oh, my God! Phoebe!” I yelled. All sense aside, I began to panic, my hands shaking as I tried to decide what to do.

“The phone,” I murmured to myself, scurrying to my feet to find any phone that I was able to use—touch screen was impossible for me, so I either needed to find my flip phone or the home phone. I couldn’t remember where I put my cell phone, though—I almost never used it and my mind felt like mush as panic threatened to overwhelm me. I couldn’t even walk properly. Tears poured from my eyes—these tears would be blinding if I could see.

“Where’s the damn phone?” I yelled to nobody in particular as I raced through the house, holding on to walls for support, but still stumbling around. I felt the countertops, but of course the phone wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

“Damn it!” I growled. I stumbled my way over back to Phoebe’s still body, and, with a towel I had found in the kitchen, I applied pressure to her forehead. I felt her pockets for her phone—luckily, it was there. The only problem was that it was touch screen, so it was really difficult to operate, being fucking blind.

Phoebe had tried to help me once, just in case I needed it for an emergency—like now.

I took a breath to calm my shaking fingers. I felt for the circle indent called the home button so I knew I was holding the phone the right way. I slid my thumb up a centimeter to unlock the phone. Phoebe told me that she had a password set, but all I had to do was hit “emergency call”, which was in the lower left corner. I tapped the button, hoping that I had hit the right one. Nine-one-one. The only three numbers I had to hit, but it was difficult because I couldn’t tell exactly where the numbers were—I only knew the general locations. I slowly typed in what I thought was the police.

“Calling, nine-four-four…”

“Damn it!” I growled, clicking the very bottom of the screen to end the call. I had to start over completely before I could dial a new number, and I kept messing it up, much to my frustration.

I was seconds away from chucking the phone at a nearby wall, until, finally I got it.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

I sighed a breath of relief. “Um, my f-friend, she f-fell, and she’s bleeding,” was all I managed to choke out.

“Okay, can you tell me what happened? How serious is her injury?” the operator said.

“I-I can’t see how s-serious it is, b-but sh-she’s unconscious,” I said with a shaky breath. “I-I’m b-b-blind, and I-I n-need h-help,” I said in between sobs.

“Okay, don’t worry. We will send you help. What is your address?”

I told her my address as calmly as possible. “The f-front door is o-open,” I added.

“Okay, help is on the way, dear,” she said sweetly. I nodded even though the operator couldn’t tell, and I placed the phone on the ground without bothering to hang up. I moved closer to Phoebe, sitting by her head. I lifted it up and put it into my lap, holding the towel on her head. I could feel the towel absorbing the blood—it was already soaked. I felt like I was going to be sick.

“It’s going to be okay, Phoebe, they’re coming,” I cried quietly.

I sat there with Phoebe for what felt like forever until I heard the front door swing open.

“Ma’am?”

“In here,” I called. I heard footsteps shuffle into the room I was in, and I took a sigh of relief when I felt them pick Phoebe up. Someone tapped my shoulder carefully.

“What is your name?” a calm voice asked.

“Faye. Faye Wilson. And that is Phoebe Montgomery,” I said in between short breaths.

“Will you come with me?” he asked, and I nodded. I remembered to grab her phone so I could call Vic. The paramedic helped me stand up and carefully held my arm, walking us out of the house. I was too frazzled to maneuver my way around by myself, and, thankfully, he sensed that.

“Will she be okay?” I asked.

“She will be just fine,” he reassured, and I nodded. “You did very good. Especially given your impairment,” he said, and I nodded again—that was all I could do: nod. The adrenaline and panic was wearing off now that I knew she was okay, being replaced with exhaustion. “Are you hurt?” he asked, and just then I realized I was holding my hands clasped tightly together. A splitting pain went up my wrists—why did I have to be so damn clumsy?

“My wrists,” I breathed out. The right one hurt more than the left, but both spots had a heartbeat in them. I hoped that they weren’t hurt too badly, though.

“Okay, come with me and we’ll get them checked out,” he said reassuringly. I nodded and allowed the paramedic to lead me to wherever. I knew we were in an ambulance, the same one as Phoebe, because where else would we have gone? The paramedic held my wrists tenderly, wrapping them up carefully as he explained to me that they were already swelling up and were probably fractured. I frowned but let him wrap them until we got to the hospital.

“Can you help me call someone?” I asked, gesturing to the phone in my lap.

“Of course. What’s the name?” he asked, picking it up.

“Vic. Vic Fuentes, I’m not sure what his contact looks like in there, though,” I said.

“Yeah, here, it just says Vic. It’s the only one so,” he ended his thought there. I nodded and he held the phone to my ear. “It should be ringing.”

He didn’t answer. I politely asked the guy to try again, and he obliged. This time, Vic answered on the seventh ring. “Hey, sorry, we were playing a song I didn’t hear you calling. What’s up, Phoebes?” he answered, his breathing slightly erratic as he was just singing. He didn’t sound annoyed that Phoebe’s phone was calling him; I knew she wasn’t the clingy, annoying type and wouldn’t normally bother him during his practice. That was why he sounded slightly worried.

“Vic, it’s me, Faye,” I started.

“Faye? What’s wrong?” he sounded alarmed. Before I could answer I heard Mike interject in the background—“Is Faye alright? What’s going on?” I would have smiled if I wasn’t so panicked.

“She fell and hit her head. I don’t know what happened, but we’re on the way to the hospital. She’s unconscious,” I said, trying to keep my voice stable.

“Oh,” he breathed. “Shit. Okay we’re on our way.”

I nodded and sniffled in the phone. “Sorry for interrupting your—”

“Don't even, Faye. We’ll see you in a few minutes, yeah?”

I nodded again and remembered he couldn’t see that through the phone. “Okay, yes,” I said. I felt the ambulance halt, meaning we had arrived. “I have to go now,” I said.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice upset. The paramedic hung up and set the phone in my lap. I slowly slid it into the pocket of my sweatshirt, thankful that I was wearing that because trying to get an iPhone into the pockets of jeans was impossible.

“Thank you,” I said. We sat there for a few minutes, waiting as I heard them cart Phoebe off.

“You’re welcome. My name’s John, by the way. Here, let’s get you out of here,” he said, nudging my arm. I took it and he helped me out of the back of the ambulance. “Where would you like to wait?” he asked.

“I guess just inside,” I mumbled.

“We’ll get nurses to look at your hands,” he said, pulling me inside further. “Hello, ma’am,” he greeted someone—a nurse. “Miss Wilson here hurt her hands, she needs an x-ray,” he said. I widened my eyes and shook my head.

“No, I need to wait for Phoebe,” I said.

“She’ll be a little while, this will only take a few minutes,” she said warmly. I shook my head again, though.

“Is she going to be okay? Why was she unconscious? Is it really bad? It’s just a small cut, right?” I panicked.

“Shh, it’s okay. They’re just cleaning her cut and stitching her up, but they have to take their time in order to do as little damage as possible. She hit her head, which knocked her out, and lost some blood, but she will wake up soon. It’s not that bad at all, don’t worry,” they reassured. I nodded in relief.

“Okay. But can I just wait for my boyfriend to get here? I can’t…” I shook my head. I was being a baby, not wanting to get an x-ray by myself, but I couldn’t help that I was afraid and needed someone I trusted. I was alone, my best friend was hurt, and I didn’t know what to do.

“Faye!” I head someone call. I let out a breath of relief—finally, someone I felt comfortable with.

“Thank you,” I mumbled to John, before following the voice. Moments later, they both collided into me in a bone-crushing hug.

“What happened? Is she okay? Are you okay?” Vic stressed, squeezing me tightly.

I let out a few ragged breaths. “I, just, I—” I shook my head; I couldn't form sentences. My mind was spinning and my heart was still racing. “She fell, I guess… I think she’s fine, I don’t know. I don’t know anything,” I cried into my hands. “I’m sorry for panicking you. I didn’t know what to do! And she hit her head but they are just stitching her up now, I didn’t know what to do…” I rambled.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Vic hushed. Mike wordlessly rubbed my back. “You did great, Faye. You did everything right, and she’s fine. Just a few stitches. How are your hands?” he asked gently—a common trait shared by the Fuentes brothers, gentleness.

“I have to get them x-rayed, but…” my voice trailed off.

“You have to get them looked at, Faye,” Mike said. I nodded and sniffled.

“I’m sorry, I should have—”

“Stop that,” Mike said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. C’mon,” he wrapped an arm around me and led me back in the direction of the waiting nurse, leaving Vic behind in the waiting room. The nurse was right; the x-ray didn’t take too long. The paramedic was right, too; I fracture my right wrist and jammed my left one. They put a brace on my right one and kept my left one, which didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the right one, in the wrap, telling me to ice both later.

Mike hooked his arm through mine and led me back to the main part of the hospital, where we were told Phoebe was awake and Vic was already in there with her.

“Faye!” Phoebe called as soon as I entered the room.

“Phoebe,” I sighed. “Are you okay? What happened?” Mike led me to her side, and I didn’t object when he pulled me into his lap, sitting next to her. I extended my hand to grab hers.

“You hurt your hand?” she asked, not answering my question.

“I’m fine. I just tripped, it’s nothing. But how do you feel, Phoebes? What happened?”

Phoebe sighed. “I fell,” she said, and I gave her a look. “I felt dizzy all of a sudden, and I just passed out. It was a weird dizzy spell, vertigo thing. I don’t know.”

“You said you weren’t feeling well before. Is that why? Are you sick?” I asked anxiously. Phoebe sighed tiredly again.

“I don’t know.”

I relaxed back against Mike, whose steady heart beat and regular breathing calmed me down. He kissed the back of my head and I blinked slowly.

“Miss Montgomery,” the door creaked open and a fifth body entered the room. “How are you feeling?” the doctor asked.

“I’m okay,” Phoebe said quietly.

“Alright. We’re going to run a few tests to see where this dizziness came from, okay?” Phoebe must have nodded because there was a pause before the doctor spoke again. “Just a few simple questions, and then a quick cat scan. Nothing serious,” he assured. “But,” the doctor spoke again, his voice soft and I wondered why. “Can we have a few moments?” he asked, I suppose implying that we all had to leave. “Er, one person can stay, if you’d like,” he added.

There was another extended pause. I felt Mike shift from under me and move me to the side as he stood up. “Vic,” Phoebe said softly. I honestly felt a little hurt when she asked him to stay over me, but I didn’t let it show. “Right here, darling,” I heard him murmur to her. He probably grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it, she probably gazed up at him lovingly. I squeezed Mike’s hand as I stood up, too, probably a little more angrier than necessary.

He sat me down with him in a chair, his arm swung around my shoulders and his hand playing with the ends of my hair. “Are you okay, Faye?” he asked. I nodded.

“She just doesn’t want you to worry more than you already are,” he murmured reassuringly, rubbing my arm as I leaned on his shoulder. I sighed and closed my eyes, although I wasn’t really tired.

I frowned. Maybe I was feeling a little jealous, but I was more worried than anything. Was she going to tell the doctor something that she didn’t want me to know, just because I was going through other things and she didn’t want to stress me out more? The thought made me more worried than if she had just told me up front, the fact that she might be hiding something from me made me anxious. Maybe it was just simply jealousy, her wanting her boyfriend over me, but I knew Phoebe wasn’t that type of girl. She wasn’t one to ditch her best friends over a guy, no matter what. I almost wish she was, though, so the worry I felt inside could go away.

Notes

Hey guys, sorry it's been like 13 days! It's kind of scary how fast time goes by, it feels like I updated yesterday but the number says it's been almost two weeks. Gah.

Forgive me.

We have some exciting chapters coming up, and I can say that the operation one is in less than… four! Maybe even three. Heehee.

SoooOooO what is going on?! Predictions? Questions? Thoughts? Concerns? Comment below, friends :)

Hopefully the next update will be sooner, but I have quarterlies this and next week (my school is dumb and we don't do midterms and finals anymore, we have these stupid ass quarterly assessments at the end of each half semester/marking period/quarter, and we learn other content in other classes while some periods are extended for the tests, instead of having two finals a day. IT'S SO DUMB AND BOTH STUDENTS AND TEACHERS HATE IT, BECAUSE IT'S MEANT TO GIVE US MORE CLASSTIME TO LEARN MORE, BUT NO LEARNING TAKES PLACE AS STUDENTS JUST STUDY IN THEIR OTHER CLASSES. IT'S RIDICULOUS! Okay, rant = over. Sorry for yelling)

Okay so, that's it, then. See y'all soon. xoxo