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Chapter Twenty-One

You know how, in movies and stuff, people pace around hospital waiting rooms and eventually somebody makes that joke about them wearing a hole in the floor? I never quite understood what the pacing did. Like why did walking back and forth help the poor bastard that was waiting, you know? I get it now. I think I paced that waiting room like a thousand times waiting for someone to tell me something - anything - about Charley. Because I wasn't family, they couldn't tell me hardly anything, they said, except that she was in surgery and in critical condition. That's it. They wouldn't tell me anything else. And so I paced and wrung my hands and worried without any real promise of finding out much more than that.

Eddie had fallen asleep in a waiting room chair and after an hour or so of us being there, Brian had showed up along with a security guard. Brian had tried keeping up with me at first, but even he ended up sitting down after a bit, and watched me pace. I could tell by the look on his face that he felt bad, but there really wasn't much he could do to help. I tried to tell him so, but I couldn't really muster many words.

Somewhere around the five hour mark, Brian and Eddie apologized and headed back to the tour buses. Eddie pointed out that we had another tour date the next day and I told him for them to go on without me. I wasn't leaving this spot. Brian had looked concerned, but Eddie only said that he'd postpone the show, and they'd taken off, leaving behind the security guy, whose name I wasn't sure of as he was one of the new guys that had come the same time Charley had. I wasn't in a social mood, so I didn't bother asking. I just returned to my pacing.

Around midnight, when I'd been there for eight hours or so, a couple of middle-aged people came running through the door out of breath. The stern, angular looks of the man and the chocolate brown eyes of the woman caught my attention and I followed after them, leaving behind the guard who had long since fallen asleep laying across the couch in the waiting room. When I caught up to them, they were at the information desk and the nurse had turned to page Charley's doctor. At a closer range, there was no mistaking them for who they were, so I walked up to them. "Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Avery?"

Mrs. Avery turned around, while Mr. Avery glanced back, saw his wife was going to address me, then turned back to the nurse's station, an impatient look about him, a muscle in his jaw vibrating with nerves. Mrs. Avery looked me over head-to-toe a couple of times, then managed, "You're the Backstreet Boy," she said simply.

"Yes," I answered. "I'm Nick. Nick Carter."

She looked like she was somewhere between admiration and anger, like she wasn't sure if she was pleased I was there for her daughter or pissed off that I was the one that Charley had been protecting.

"How long have you been here, son, you look exhausted," Mr. Avery commented without really turning around.

"I've been here as long as she has, sir," I answered.

"What happened?" Mrs. Avery pleaded.

"I'm a bit fuzzy on the details myself," I answered. "She saved my life, though. I know that."

"She's so brave," muttered Mrs. Avery, teary-eyed.

"I want to help. Anyway I can. Please."

"Thank you," Mr. Avery answered, "But you should go home and get some rest."

"I can't rest," I said, shaking my head. "I think I'm sort of your daughter's boyfriend." He eyed me. Mrs. Avery patted my arm.

The nurse returned and told Mr. Avery where Charley's room was and said that a doctor would meet them to explain what was happening. He turned to me. "Go home anyway, son. We'll give you a call if anything happens."

And with that, they walked away, leaving me standing by the nurses station.

I didn't go home. I couldn't. Home was a place that you felt safe and I only felt safe with Charley by my side. If a hospital waiting room was as close as I could get to her, then it was as close to home as I was ever gonna be. So I resumed my pacing in the waiting room and waited for someone to make that joke about the hole in the floor.