The first thing I felt when I woke up was something jabbing me painfully in the arm. I cracked an eye and was met by soft, dark lights. Slowly I looked down to see the offending object, it turned out to be an IV. What was there an IV in my arm? I followed the cord up to a bag that had clear fluid dripping into my arm, the red nurse's button caught my attention. I pushed it.

A blonde woman walked in a few minutes later, her brown eyes looking tired. "Hello dear, you're awake." She smiled, the smile lighting her eyes.

"Yes, thank you. Where am I?" I asked her frowning. I felt a pull on my forehead, I started to reach with the IV arm but then stopped and reached with the other one. There was a bandage on my head that covered about half of my forehead.

"You're at St. Mary's Medical Center. You had a nasty car accident, do you remember?" She asked me, frowning slightly.

I looked at the thin blanket over my legs. I remembered headlights and a horn blaring, "Yes, I remember." Where had I been coming from?

"Good, I'll just check you out then call your parents in. They've been in and out the waiting room all day." The nurse smiled as she reached for my head.

"All day?" I asked her, vaguely confused. I was in the accident at night, was I out that long?

"Yes, they've been very worried about you." She smiled again. "Well you look fine, I'll go get them."

I nodded, but didn't reply as she walked out. How long have I been sleeping? I wondered quietly until my parents walked in. I smiled, feeling my lip pull against a scab. "Hey guys." I grinned with only my left side since the right side didn't want to work.

"Hi sweetie." My mother smiled, coming and hugging me gently. I started to reach for my father to hug but then pulled back when a sharp pain went through my ribs.

"Careful there, kiddo." My father told me, coming to me instead of me going to him.

I smiled then frowned. "What happened? I mean I know I got in a car accident but like fill me in on the details about what happened afterwards."

"Well the other car hit you, the other driver is alright just a little shaken and a bit of a bump on his head. Then the ambulance took you here, the hospital called us, we came down and we've been waiting for you to wake up for about a week and a half." My mother said breezily, I gaped at her.

"A week and a half!?" I shrieked, eyes hugely wide. "I've been sleeping for a ten days?"

"Eleven," My mother smiled slyly.

"Geez!" I cried.

My mother laughed, "But you're alright now. Your injuries actually aren't that bad, you managed to hit your head just right to put you into a coma."

I gaped at her, "I guess so." Then I smirked cheekily, "No one can say I'm not cool now. I put myself in a coma." I giggled, my parents laughed as well.

A gentle knocked came at the door, we all looked expectantly. The blonde haired nurse walked in, a bemused expression on her tired face. "There is a young man here for you, he says his name is Tom."

I frowned, forgetting for a moment who Tom even was. I felt a spark of panic then relaxed when I remembered, it wasn't the accident that made my memory screwy, I just had screwy memory. Suddenly I stiffened, scowling darkly. Yup, I'm a quick one with that memory nonsense, especially when I remember what a douche bag Tom was.

"Tell him to go punch himself in the face again." I snarled, the nurse jumped a tiny bit before starting to leave.

"No, no, come back dear." My mother said in her motherly voice. She frowned at me and I suddenly felt like I was ten years old again being scolded for beating up the neighborhood boys for the second time. "Now Jennifer, is that really what you want Tom to hear? You should know that he's been calling us non-stop after he found out about your accident. We finally had to unplug the phone just to get a moment of peace." My mother said with a chuckle.

I scowled, "He yelled at me and called me a pathetic!" I cried with indignity.

"And now he's trying to see if you're alright, I think you should at least hear him out." My father told me gently, placing his hand on my mother's shoulder.

I huffed, crossing my arms. "Send the loser in." I muttered darkly.

There were a few seconds of silence before a gently knock came on the door again, "Come in." My mother said cheerfully. I was still glaring at the corner.

Tom walked in, his hands were wringing together nervously. My mother smiled sweetly to him, "Hello Tom." She turned and looked at me, "We'll just wait outside, be nice children." She gave me a pointed look then laughed as she danced out of the room, my father walking close behind.

Several seconds pasted, neither of us saying anything. In fact I wouldn't even look at him, remember my week and a half ago anger. Finally he said in a pleading voice, "At least look at me."

I snapped my head to the side, pinning him to the wall with an icy glare. "Better?" I growled, he hung his head.

"I'm sorry, I should have said that to you." He told the ground, my anger started to slip away but I tried to hold onto it tight. Tom rolled sad blue eyes up to look at me through a curtain of shaggy brown hair. My anger was nothing but a distance memory now.

I grunted in an unlady like fashion then scooted closer to the IV machine and patted the space next to me. Tom hesitated for a second, I gave him a sharp glare, and he walked over then sat next to me. I wasn't looking at him again, in fact I was staring straight ahead.

"You're a dirt bag, you know that?" I asked though my voice lacked the certain malice that it needed to offensive.

"I know," He answered, crawling closer to me and laying his head down on the pillow with mine. "I'm sorry." He murmured after a few seconds.

I rolled my head on the pillow and looked at him, "I know." I answered, curling onto my side carefully avoiding the IV. "You are forgiven." I told him as an enchanting smile spread across his face, I felt the corner of my mouth twitch up. Then I winced, forgetting that the right side was wounded.

Tom frowned, gently reaching out to touch the scabbed lip. "I'm sorry." He said, gently caressing my bottom lip.

"I forgive you," I whispered, as Tom inched closer. I tilted my face upwards as he tilted his down.

Tom's lips hovered over mine, "I'm sorry." He whispered before he closed the distance between our mouths. His lips were soft and gentle against mine, I could tell that he didn't want to hurt me. But something in me wanted him to be rough, to tell me that this wasn't some illusion from a girl who was just in a car accident and knocked her brains around. Or even a dream from a coma patient.

I pressed my mouth harder against his, as he gently reached around and cupped the base of my skull. I felt his lips part slowly as his tongue hesitantly snuck out. I replied to his advance with my own forceful reply.

We stayed like that for several minutes, alternating between kissing and cuddling. Until I sighed, "Is it weird that I've been sleeping for eleven days and I'm already tired?" I asked in a voice laced with irritation.

Tom chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "You were just in a car accident, I think you have the right to be tired."

"Mmm," I replied, cuddling closer to him. Tom wrapped his long arms around me as I rested my head against his bicep, the scent of him wrapping around me like a warm blanket that lulled me to sleep.

I woke up some time later, the bed was empty around me. "Tom?" I asked the room, there was no reply. I released a breath that sounded more like a snake's hiss then anything. Damn it, I had dreamt the whole thing.

"What was that sound?" Tom's voice came from the door, he was holding a tray of food with two drinks on it.

I quirked an eyebrow up, pursing my lips. "Oxygen tank?" I asked, I didn't really want to admit that I had instantly jumped to the conclusion that I had.

Tom gave me a look that said he didn't believe me, I shrugged with my left side. "If that's true then we have a problem."

I frowned, "Why? The more oxygen in the air the better it is for you, right?"

Tom looked at me questioningly. "Oxygen blows up, didn't you learn that in chemistry?" He walked to the other side of the bed and snuggled onto it with me. The tray rested on my left thigh and his right thigh.

I munched on the piece of bread thoughtfully, "I never took chemistry." I confessed, the hospital food really wasn't half bad.

He looked at me in surprise, "Really? I thought it was required or something."

"Nope, only Freshmen science." I answered, swallowing. "I took Freshmen science, biology, physics, and anatomy."

"Odd, why not take chemistry instead of physics?"

"I hate chemistry." I answered shortly, popping the top of the juice and sipping it daintily. I'm not sure why I drank it like a lady for the first time in perhaps my entire life, but I did.

Tom shrugged, "Seems reasonable." He ate some of my food, I batted his hand away.

Then suddenly I stopped moving, he gave me a worried look. "I have to take a leak." I told him unceremoniously.

Tom gave me a droll look, "Nothing's stopping you."

I pointed to the IV, he frowned then his lips turned into a little 'o'. "Just take it in with you?" He half asked me.

I shrugged then frowned, "It's bolted to the wall." He shrugged, he didn't know what to do either. "Never mind," I decided, "I don't have to pee that bad."

I was released for the hospital two days after I woke up, Tom stayed with the whole time. The first night the nurses got mad at him because he wasn't family, I threw a water bottle at them. Then they were alright with it. Summer was coming to an end and a few weeks after that my parents helped me move to Pullman. I never realized how many hills were in Pullman before and the old beater car that my parents had bought for me died two weeks after I got it because of overheating. I walk most places now, when it cools down I might drive more or I might not.

Tom and I dated for my freshmen year and half of the summer until we decided we needed a break. We still talk sometimes but not really anymore. I miss him now and again but then I look at my life and I get over it. I have an apartment of my own and two Rottweiler puppies. Leonardo is the jokester and Michael is the serious one. Some how our strange family works in its own dysfunctional way. I still cross-dress too, though I learned to never make friends as a guy.