Olivia Christakos and Her Second First Time Read Online Free PDF Page A

trying to swallow the grit in my throat.
    “Who hit you?” The woman asks, trying to finish the sentence for me. “A drunk driver. He’s in jail now.”
    I shake my head. The lady doesn’t make sense. Someone hit me? He’s in jail? The doctor returns with a pink plastic cup with a little straw sticking out of it. “Take a few sips and after we make sure you’re feeling okay, we’ll see if we can get you something else. Do you like orange juice?”
    After taking a sip of water, I think about that. I don’t know. I remember orange juice but I can’t remember if I like it. I shrug and the movement hurts.
    “She was trying to say something when you left, but she couldn’t get much out,” the man says. He’s dark and big and wears glasses. “Is that normal?”
    The doctor nods. “Yes. After a head injury, every imaginable situation can be normal even when it doesn’t seem that way. The brain works by its own rules. Now, Olivia. After you have a bit more of that water, I want you to ask that question again.” He’s rushing me. I feel rushed.
    But I do as I’m told and have a few more sips. When I woke up, the first thing I’d felt was pain, but it was dull and hazy, like the pain itself was underwater and I could touch it, but not feel the heaviness of it. Unless I moved. Now, my brain hurts, but not in a painful way. More like my gas tank has been overfilled.
    After some more water, my eyes land on the woman. “Who...are...?” My throat stings. I grimace and take another sip. Then a deep breath. Every time I speak, my side aches like someone is giving me a bear hug. “...you?”
    The woman’s face pales and the little girl gasps. The man steps forward, a serious expression solidifying on his face. “Your mother is concerned,” he says. “The last thing she needs is you playing games with her.”
    I blink at him, unable to gather any emotion—confusion, fear, sadness. I’m currently emotionally bankrupt. The doctor responds. “No, don’t push her. She may be disoriented. Olivia. Can you tell me, do you recognize any of the people in this room?”
    I stare at the doctor. Besides the fact that I recognize him as a doctor in his white coat and stethoscope and vaguely remember him give his name, I don’t know anything. I analyze the man, woman and little girl. Definitely no recognition there. I take another drink while looking at the guy with the weird uniform. It’s a Cub Scout uniform, I’m pretty sure. And I’ve seen it somewhere before. But where?
    The overgrown Cub Scout—a troop leader, maybe?—sits so close to the bed that he could smell my hair if he felt like it. He does look vaguely familiar, I guess, but I can’t say why. The strong emotion returns and my mind labels it as something near hate. Resentment, maybe. “I recognize...” I begin, and feel an instant tension in the room. After another drink, I open my mouth again. The guy’s eyes widen and he’s frozen. Doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. “I recognize...his uniform.”
    The boy lets out a rush of air and fingers his blue neckerchief absentmindedly, all without taking his eyes off my face. He licks his lips. A ping of some sort fires off in my brain at his movement, but then it disappears like running water through a hand. I think about offering him some of my drink, but I don’t.
    The woman sways. “I need to sit down,” she says, trembling hands grasping onto the armrest as she lowers herself. She’s wearing a tracksuit and her short hair is pulled back. The little girl runs to her, whispers something. Her pale eyes fix on mine. After making an annoyed sigh, the man crosses his arms in front of him. I avoid his gaze, avoid everyone’s gaze. Instead, I let my eyes roam the room—no one’s brought me flowers or cards—and out the window. The only thing I see through it is a pale patch of sky with some light clouds sprinkled across it.
    I should be freaking out. Why am I not freaking out? Maybe the doctor