Page 51 of Scars of Anatomy

Finches

My crutches click loudly against the tiled hospital floors as I struggle to hop along the corridor. Everything still hurts, and all my bruises are starting to turn a nasty yellowish color, while the road rash is scabbing over nicely.

After my accident Olivia and I stayed in Florida a few more days to rest, cooped up in the hotel room, before attempting the uncomfortable five-hour drive back home. I profusely apologized for ruining our vacation, but she insisted I hadn’t.

Since the incident at the nursing home, my mother’s calls have been persistent, but I’ve blocked her number and dodged any unknown caller IDs to avoid her at all costs.

I have nothing to say to her anyway. For a minute I was scared she was going to find out about my accident or find out which hotel I was staying at and hunt me down, but I haven’t seen her since the nursing home, thankfully.

And I plan to keep it that way, as harsh as it may be.

Back at home now, Olivia helps me through the hallways of the hospital after completing the follow-up appointment with my doctor.

He said everything is going to take time, but it should heal properly.

As far as my football career goes, as I suspected, he doesn’t expect me to bounce back and be the athlete I once was, basically crushing any dreams I have of making it to the NFL.

A heavy rock of disappointment and uncertainty sits in the pit of my stomach as I scramble to figure out what the hell I’m going to do now.

I know I’m going to graduate in a few months with my degree in exercise science, but I’ve honestly never given much thought about actually using it.

I always pictured myself going straight to the NFL, not even needing my degree, but now I have to digest that’s not a possibility anymore.

Olivia walks beside me like someone who would walk with a toddler, tense and observant, ready to catch me in case I fall over. I don’t know how she expects to catch me though, given I’m twice her size.

Halfway down the hall, a voice calls Olivia’s name, and we both look over our shoulders, finding Cora coming up behind us.

Cora smiles. “I thought that was you,” she says, walking up to us and hugging Olivia.

“Hi, Cora,” Olivia greets her, hugging her back.

Cora glances down at her watch, her brow furrowing. “You’re early.”

Olivia lets out a small laugh. “Oh, no. I was going to run home first before I came back up for dinner,” she says, and I suddenly realize it’s Tuesday. “I’m here now for his appointment,” she clarifies, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

Cora frowns with worry, observing my injuries. “Oh my. What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” I admit.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Olivia assures her. “Let me just run him back home and I’ll be back up in about a half an hour or so.”

“That’s okay, baby. I can just wait around here somewhere while you guys catch up,” I insist, not wanting her to drive me all the way to the dorm just to come back here.

She frowns. “No, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

I smile, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll be fine,” I promise. “You guys go enjoy your dinner.”

She still doesn’t seem sold on the idea. “Why don’t you come have dinner with us?” she offers. “Is that all right, Cora?”

Cora looks hesitant for a moment, and before I can insist on not wanting to intrude, Olivia speaks up, noticing the look on Cora’s face as well.

“It’s okay. He knows,” she tells Cora with a reassuring look.

Cora’s eyes widen a fraction in surprise before she turns almost sheepish.

She clears her throat, looking at me as if I hold all of her secrets.

But deep down I also see the gratitude behind her eyes, like a weight has finally been lifted off of her shoulders by having someone else know about her tragedy and accept her decision.

I feel as though she has trust in me now, knowing her truth.

“Yeah,” Cora says definitively. “Let’s all have dinner together.”

The three of us head to the cafeteria, grabbing some food and sitting down. Olivia and Cora mainly engage in conversation. I accept being the third wheel and only cut into their conversation when prompted, letting them have their time together.

Conversation starts to slow once we’re all finished eating and an uncomfortable charge hangs in the air. Cora eyes me warily, almost unsure about something.

Olivia leans over and places a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s okay,” she reassures Cora before turning to me. “She’s just going to listen to my heart,” she explains solemnly.

I swallow thickly, nodding. I remember the first time I saw Olivia at the hospital with Cora and she was listening to her heart then, telling me this is a weekly ritual.

With a shaky breath Cora grabs the stethoscope draped around her neck and Olivia scoots closer to her. Cora puts the earpieces in her ears and positions the chest piece over Olivia’s heart, listening.

Cora closes her eyes, a pained expression crossing her face as she listens to her daughter’s—now Olivia’s—heartbeat. I can tell this is hard for her, that she’s reliving that day all over again in her head, the wound of her daughter’s death still not fully closed.

Cora listens to Olivia’s heartbeat for several minutes before pulling away with misty eyes. She places her stethoscope back around her neck, folding her hands in her lap and staring down at them.

“We were finally getting our lives together,” she confesses sadly, her voice a raspy whisper. “I got a great job in a different state, and we were able to move away from the awful apartment we were in.”

She sniffs, wiping at a lone tear that rolls down her cheek.

“We moved all the way from Florida to Louisiana, thinking we were going to have a fresh start,” she continues, clearly vulnerable talking about her daughter.

“It was just me and her. I started a great job, and she was in a good school, and not even a month in, she was walking home when a driver swerved off the road and struck her.”

Tears streak down her face, and I glance over at Olivia to see silent tears running down her own cheeks too.

“Lexi was such a good kid,” Cora declares through her tears.

Lexi .

That name makes my stomach lurch, my mind drifting to Lexi from my childhood and then to what Cora said, my heart dropping.

Lexi. Shitty apartment. Florida. Nurse. My mind homes in on those facts. There’s no way , I think. There’s no way there could be any connection. This has to be one of those freak coincidences, right?

My hands begin to shake, and I can’t bite back the question haunting my mind. “Cora, what was Lexi’s last name?”

She looks at me skeptically, wondering why I would ask such a question. “Sampson,” she says slowly. “Why?”

My chest tightens and I suddenly feel like I’m going to throw up.

“Lexi . . . you guys lived on the third floor of the Watson apartment complex,” I state, voice shaking.

“I lived below you. Lexi and I were friends. She used to see me sitting out on the steps all the time when my mom and her boyfriend were fighting. She helped save my life. You helped save my life,” I inform her, remembering her and Lexi rushing me to the hospital after Lexi found me the night Benny pushed me down the stairs.

Cora’s teary eyes widen in realization and disbelief. “You . . . you’re that little boy,” she realizes.

Tears prick my eyes, and I feel like I’m lost in an alternate universe.

My mind races a million miles a minute, trying to digest everything.

Lexi’s dead, I realize, my heart cracking. I haven’t seen her since I was placed in foster care, but I always hoped to find her again one day to thank her for saving my life.

My eyes drift over to Olivia, who’s got a hand covering her mouth, absorbing the new revelation.

Not only did Lexi save my life, but she saved Olivia’s too.

Just when I thought I knew Olivia’s story, I realize I didn’t know everything after all.

From the moment I set eyes on Olivia, I knew there was something special about her.

Something that beckoned me closer, to take a second look.

She hid her original secret from me so well that I completely missed it.

Then once she told me, I thought I had her all figured out, but it turns out there’s so much more to her story than we both thought.

My heart is racing with so many emotions it feels like it’s going to burst.

My eyes drift from Olivia’s face down to her chest, staring at her in awe.

Just when I thought I couldn’t love her and her sweet heart more, she surprises me yet again.

As a kid, Lexi was one of the few people to actually care about me, show me kindness, and knowing she’s connected to Olivia feels oddly fitting.

Emotionally raw, we all stare at each other in disbelief and silent understanding of our unbelievable connection.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my words directed to Cora.

Not only did she give up her daughter to save others’ lives, but she also took care of Olivia.

She stuck by her side all these years. She sat by her hospital bedside when no one else did, only after sitting with me at mine a couple of years prior.

Cora is an angel in disguise, and I can’t thank her enough.

A whole new flood of appreciation for this woman rushes through me, and I’m forever indebted to her for all she’s done. Without her—without Lexi—the love of my life wouldn’t be sitting here with me right now. I probably wouldn’t even be sitting here right now.

In the end, it’s amazing how small the world really is, how things can turn out.

The first day of the spring semester I’m woken up by Chase loudly stumbling into our room, dropping his bags on the floor before rifling through his desk, throwing things around and rushing back out the door to his first class.

Unable to fall back asleep, I decide to get up before my alarm goes off, allotting myself extra time to get ready, given my broken leg. Only five more weeks to go with this damn hunk of plaster and then I’m free.

I carefully sit up in bed and gingerly swing my legs over the edge. Grabbing my crutches propped up against the nightstand, I lift myself up from the bed and glance around the room. It looks like a fucking tornado ripped through.

Chase’s duffel bags are haphazardly thrown next to his bed and half of his desk drawers are open, their contents strewn all over the floor.

I sigh in aggravation, maneuvering around all his shit to put some clothes on and get ready.

After getting dressed, brushing my hair and teeth, and applying some deodorant and cologne, I hobble back over to my desk where I already have all of my stuff packed and ready for class, thanks to my lovely girlfriend.

On the short trip over, the bottom of my crutch lands on top of a folder and it nearly slips out from under me.

“Fucking Chase,” I growl, bending over to pick up the folder. To my luck, all the papers spill out all over the floor.

Pissed, I throw the folder on his bed and angrily grab my desk chair, dragging it over to at least sit down to pick up the papers so I don’t fall flat on my face trying to balance.

Gathering up the papers, I realize they’re notes from our biology class last semester, the class code scribbled in the top corner of every page.

I observe the handwriting, determining it’s not Chase’s. The handwriting is big, bubbly, legible . Yep, definitely not Chase’s. He hardly ever took notes in class anyway. He must have taken them off the girl in our class that he has a massive crush on to study for the final.

Reaching for another paper, I see a bunch of bird names highlighted as subtitles, several bullet points listed under each species. My eyes automatically find the finch and I can’t help but smile reading the notes written down.

Finch:

Darwin’s theory of evolution

Differ in beaks, body size, and behavior

Quiet

Social in their own groups

Need other finches for stability and to thrive

Live in large groups out in the wild and rarely migrate

I remember giving Olivia the nickname Finch at the beginning of last semester just because I thought she was sweet and quiet and never left her hometown. But there’s way more to her than that.

Sitting back, I now realize most of the people around us are just finches living among other finches.

Olivia and I found each other because we’re one and the same.

Stan and Monica found Olivia because they were all similar.

Lexi, Cora, we’re all the same. Connected.

While we all may differ physically and emotionally, we’re all parallel.

Just like finches, we thrive together. We lean on each other and understand one another.

When Olivia found me, I was a lonely, miserable individual.

And despite being polar opposites, we somehow naturally attracted each other.

My life completely flipped when she walked into it, and now I realize it’s because we were just two finches who found each other, finding our niche.

Our flock. Everything falling into place.

I gather up the rest of Chase’s papers and throw them on his desk, my heart surprisingly happy.

A soft knock comes from the other side of my door, and I instantly know it’s Olivia. After a beat she slowly opens the door and sticks her head in. “Ready?” she asks.

I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I’m ready, Finch.”

I shrug on my backpack and grab my crutches, hopping out the door.

She walks me to my first class, making sure I get there all right with my leg.

“I’ll see you later in the Anatomy II lab,” she says, kissing me goodbye at the door of my first class.

I grin. “I’ll see you then. Hopefully we both get good partners,” I tease.

Olivia and I already planned it out last semester that we’d pick the same lab section this year just so we could be partners again.

She smiles, playing along. “I hope so.”