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because as soon as Trey strolled out, a nurse swiftly made an entrance.
    She didn’t take up the space in the small room quite like my last guest had, but her no-nonsense demeanor definitely wasn’t something to be missed, nonetheless. I sped-read her nametag: “Florence.”
    “Ms. Preston,” Florence addressed me, and her formal tone already had me trying to sit up straighter. She made a beeline to my heart monitor, pressing buttons here and there. “I see that you’re awake,” she conceded while jotting down important hospital stuff onto her chart. I totally tried to sneak a peek at said chart, but she might as well have been writing in Morse code for all I could see.
    I gingerly nodded my head, then realizing that she wasn’t even looking at me, answered, “Yep.”
    She glimpsed up from the chart, her glasses slipping further down her nose. “You had quite the concussion,” she informed me.
    Probably looking like a dashed-up bobble head, I nodded again.
    Slowly, I took a breath, “How long was I out?”
    “You were unconscious when you arrived, but your friend informed the night nurse on staff that you weren’t that way for very long. So I’d say roughly fourteen hours or so.”
    My friend? Trey?
    Oh, what I would have given to know what the hospital staff was thinking when they saw a man wearing a soaked tux strut in carrying an unconscious girl in a swimsuit!
    “Also,” Florence continued, having the decency to ignore the slight blush I could feel taking over my cheeks. “Your ribs and throat are going to be mildly sore for a while, okay? We’ve given you pain medication to help with your headache, but the best thing for your throat and abdomen is time and plenty of rest. If you have any more questions, the doctor shouldn’t be too long,” she finished with a quick smile.
    “Actually, can I have some water please?” I made sure to ask her before she made her exit. I was going to ask Trey before he left. Probably.
    “Oh sure, hun,” came Florence’s swift reply. I watched her walk back over to the bed, reaching for a dull pink pitcher. She gave me another smile as she poured some water into a paper cup before unwrapping one of those accordion-looking straws. “Be careful of your sore throat.”
    I delicately raised the cup to my lips, and took a hesitant gulp.
    Geez!! She wasn’t kidding! ‘Mildly sore’… Ha. I think Nurse Florence was putting it mildly!
    I forced myself to swallow it down and hoped like heck I could do so without spritzing it across the roo—
    “Hey there, girl! How ya doing?”
    I swear, the water I was trying to swallow hit the wall seven feet away as it all came back up in sputtering fits. I was still coughing when I turned to see Denise and Ray standing near my bed. Denise was wide-eyed, and Ray’s lips were twitching and threatening to let a laugh break through.
    Florence looked like she was nearly about to hit the “Code Blue” button.
    “Jesus, ‘Nise! The poor girl is just recovering from the last time she almost drowned,” Ray teased, throwing an arm over Denise’s shoulders with a smile that gave the late afternoon sun a run for its money.
    Denise’s eyes widened even more, her face paling, “Oh, Tylar! I-I’m so sorry, hun! Are you okay?” She quickly began fishing into her purse for God knew what. “Here, let me get you something to clean you up…”
    “It’s okay, Denise. I’m fine,” I tried to reassure her with a straight face.
    “Well here, let’s at least find you a comb for that rat’s nest hair of yours that you got workin’.” She produced a wide-toothed comb from one of the side pockets.
    Seriously, what wasn’t in that purse?
    I tried to not to grimace at the thought of what I must've looked like at that moment, while also trying not to have a vanity breakdown at what Trey must have been staring at while he was in here.
    “Oh, wow,” Denise murmured while trying to get through a tangle. “Will she be able to shower anytime