Mr.Thrasher returns with four cups of coffee in a cardboard carrier.“Kid in the cafeteria says that the news crews are already showing up.Don’t know who tipped them off, but they’re here.You see ’em out there, Grant?”
Grant nods.“Yeah, a couple of guys.”
Mr.Thrasher hands out the coffee.“Anything else I miss?”
We all know he’s talking about the doctors and Boone, so my jaw drops when Grant answers him.“Ma and I are about to lay bets on how long it takes Ripley to become an official part of the family.”
Mr.Thrasher offers a giant cup of coffee to me.“Not long, if that boy’s as smart as I think he is.”
29
Boone
My head feelslike it’s been trampled by a herd of cows instead of just one pissed-off bull, but once the doctor staples the gash shut and they run me through a bunch of tests, they decide I’m not gonna kick the bucket anytime soon.
“We’d like you to stay overnight for observation as a precaution.”
I look at the doctor and ask him point blank, “If I wasn’t me, but instead was some poor schmuck with no insurance, would you have me staying overnight?”
“Well, Mr.Thrasher, this is a different situation—”
“I’m taking that as a no.”
“Boy, if they want to keep you overnight, you stay overnight.”Ma’s voice comes from the private room’s door as it creaks open.
“Ma, I’m fine.I just need someone to wake me every couple hours to make sure the concussion doesn’t kick my ass.”
“Sir, it would be best if you—”
“I took a hoof to the skull, not a bullet.I’ll be fine, Doc.Get my discharge rolling.I’ll sign out against medical advice if I have to.Doesn’t matter to me.”My gaze slides past Ma to clamp on Ripley.“I want to get out of here before the vultures descend.”
“Too late.They’re already here,” Ma says.
I shake my head but realize quickly that’s a mistake when it pounds harder.“Of course they are.All the more reason to get the hell out.”
“I’ll take care of those papers for you, Mr.Thrasher.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
Ripley doesn’t speak until the door closes behind the doctor, leaving her and Ma inside.
“Are you crazy?If they want you to stay, you should stay.”Ripley crosses her arms over her chest, and I give her a sidelong look.
“This coming from the woman who didn’t want to step foot in the hospital, even though I thought your ankle might be broken?You’re not the only stubborn one here.”
“No, but she might be the bravest.You should’ve seen her throw herself over that fence.I wonder if anyone recorded it,” Grant says as he walks in.
I look at Ripley, but her gaze darts away.It sounds like there’s a story there I need to hear.
Grant pulls out his phone and starts searching.“Sure enough, here it is.”
Ripley’s face turns bright red.“Are you serious?Who would film that?Why weren’t they calling 911?What is wrong with people?”
“Give it here.”I hold out my hand.
“Boone, it’s not important.You need to rest.”
I want to see that video even more than I want to close my eyes and give in to sleep.I grab the phone from Grant and ignore the pounding in my head.