think it is.” He walked over to the cupboard and opened it. “Some towels here, the bathroom is just down the hall. I’m afraid it’s a shared bathroom.”
“That’s okay. More than okay. It’s great. Thanks.” I smiled at him, feeling so grateful to be out of the hospital. A bed had never looked so inviting in my entire life. Granted, the life I knew had been a pretty short one, and I’d only ever been on one other bed before. If I was a baby, I would only be seventy-two hours old. That is how long my brain had been absorbing and remembering information. It was weird to think that my body was actually older than my mind. I didn’t know how old exactly, but it was a lot older than the stuff between my ears. And as for a shared bathroom, well, I might have shared a bathroom with a yeti at this stage, just to be out of the hospital.
Did you know, the yeti originated in Himalayan folklore before the nineteenth century?
Did you know that a British explorer called Eric Shipton searched for it for sixty years?
Did you know—
“Don’t worry, though,” Noah said, pulling me from my strange, factual thoughts, whose origins remained a mystery. “I definitely put the seat down. My sister trained me well.”
“You have a sister!” I was shocked by the concept that someone could have a sibling.
“Yes, she’s younger than me, but you would swear she was older.” He rolled his eyes and gave his head the tiniest shake, more to himself, though, as if he was remembering something funny. It seemed like he really loved his sister. Did I have a brother or sister that I loved? And if I did, were they worried about me?
“Please, it’s your house. Do whatever you like with the seat, use it as a hula-hoop . . . whatever,” I said.
Noah’s face broke into a smile, now. It was the first time I’d seen him smile since I’d arrived at his house so rudely.
“Uh, I think I’ll refrain from that, if that’s okay with you?” He was still smiling. He had a nice smile. I’d gotten a glimpse of it in the ambulance, albeit a blurry, somewhat oxygen-deprived glimpse, but now, seeing it in the full, bright, overhead lights of his spare room, I had to admit, it was a really nice smile. He had a tiny gap between his two front teeth, ever so small, but it gave his smile a softer quality. It made it seem warmer and friendlier than a normal smile. It wasn’t a perfect smile, you wouldn’t see it on the side of a toothpaste tube, like the one I’d gotten in the hospital, but it was a smile that you would very much like to see.
Noah looked at his watch. “It’s four in the morning already, so we’d better get some sleep.”
“Four!” I looked down at my watch too. I’d lost track of time once again. Time seemed to have taken on a strange elastic form since this whole incident. Sometimes it felt like it was stretching out, long and endless in front of me, and other times it felt like it was being flicked back at me. Rushing towards me, bending back on itself in a way that made me feel like it didn’t exist at all.
“I’m so sorry again that I woke you. I didn’t know where else to go and I just . . . I’m sorry.”
He smiled again, but this time it was forced. “It’s alright. I offered to help so . . .” He didn’t finish that sentence and I wasn’t sure I knew what he was trying to say. Maybe if he finished it, he would express regret for the decision he’d made. Because now he had a stranger in his house, about to slip under his Spider-Man covers.
“Well, thanks. Again. It’s so kind of you.”
“No worries.” He made a move for the door and stopped before leaving. “Is there anything else you need to know?”
I sat down on the bed. It was incredibly soft and comfortable. So much better than the hospital bed.
“No. I have everything I need right here,” I said, and actually meant it.
He pulled the door closed and I flopped down on the mattress and looked up. For the first time in days, I relaxed. A massive breath of air left my stiff, tense body, and took with it some of the worries and anxiety that had taken up residence in