the radio but then thought better of it. “What am I going to do about a car?”
“You can use my old truck. I don’t think you’ll get much from insurance, so you might want to save up if you want something better next year when you get your full license back.”
“Great.”
“Maybe living without a license will teach you a lesson.”
“Like being forced to coach football won’t? Did you know they were setting me up for that?”
“I had my suspicions.” He tried to hide a smile.
“Why?”
“With Coach Wilkinson getting sick, they needed someone. You’d be free labor.”
“Terrific.”
Dad stopped the car short. “That’s enough!”
“Enough of what?”
“Enough of that attitude. You should be grateful to be alive. To have a family that supports you. Did you even have to worry about hiring an attorney? What about paying for one? How about figuring out how to explain the situation to your boss?”
I looked down.
“Exactly. Now get out.”
“We’re not there yet.”
“I don’t care. You need some fresh air to clear that head of yours.”
“Gee, thanks.” I got out, this time slamming the door. He was right, and I knew it. That just made it worse.
I was ready to pass out by the time I got home. You’d think recovering from a collapsed lung would get you a break, but not in my dad’s book. I sunk down on the couch and turned on the TV. I went right to ESPN, but it was just some interview special featuring has-been players. I shut it off.
I needed a distraction. What I wanted was a drink—but I couldn’t. Even if I wasn’t on meds, my mom had cleared out my entire supply while I was in the hospital. There was also the whole conversation with Dad. Didn’t being an alcoholic mean never drinking at all? That just seemed dumb. I could control my drinking if I wanted to. There were plenty of times when I just had a beer or two. It didn’t matter though. Without a car, it wasn’t an option.
The only thing that sounded better than a drink was that nurse. If she looked that hot in scrubs and a cardigan—I was ready to see her in something else. I’d rummaged through my wallet and found her number as soon as I’d gotten home. I’d already programmed her into my phone. I couldn’t recall her ever giving me her last name, or if she did I forgot it, so she was just under Emily. I liked the name. I’d only known one Emily and she’d been an all right girl.
I was never nervous about calling girls, but this time was different. She’d seen me at my absolute worst. The only upside is that even at my worst, she gave me her number. I could only improve from there.
I decided to stop stalling. My excuse for waiting was making sure I wasn’t doing time. Now that it was off the table, I could finally call. I figured she probably knew about the DUI, but I wasn’t excited about telling her she’d have to pick me up if we went out. Whether a girl was traditional or not, she expected the guy to drive. I hit call and listened to a few rings.
“Hello?” She answered hesitantly, like she was nervous.
“Emily?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
I leaned back against the couch. “It’s your favorite patient.”
“That’s impossible. I don’t have favorites.” Her words were playful.
“Does that mean you give out your number a lot?”
“No—not too often.” She laughed. “How’re you doing, Jake?”
A thrill ran through me when she said my name. I assumed she remembered me, but it was nice to hear it. “I’m doing all right.”
“Feeling better?”
“Much. I get tired a lot though.”
“That’s pretty normal.” Her voice was soft, just like I imagined her skin feeling.
“How’re you doing?”
“All right. I’ve just been working.”
“Any chance you want to do something else? Maybe get dinner sometime?” I was ready to break my cardinal rule. You always do coffee on the first date in case it’s a disaster. But this wouldn’t be a disaster, and coffee wouldn’t be long enough.
“I’m working most of this week. This is my only night off.”
“Then how about tonight?” I knew it was a long shot, but she’d just admitted she didn’t have much going on.
“Won’t I seem desperate if I say yes?”
“I already sound desperate. Why not join the club?”
“Do you want me to come to you? If you can’t drive or anything…”
She was fishing for information.
“Unfortunately, you’re right. I can try to get a ride.” I cringed