Katie was in the waiting room, about to talk to her boyfriend. Or, rather, to hear him talk.
Bill, her boyfriend, was a varsity football player and salutatorian for her high school before his “accident.” He was humble and friendly, with an SAT score of 2250 that only she knew about. Even telling her that was a little like taking a Band-Aid off a wound, though.
Katie felt lucky to have him. She was the quiet, bookish girl with Coke bottle glasses and a textbook under her arm that every high school drama has. She and Bill were lab partners one time, and apparently, something stuck between the two. They went on a few dates, and then awkwardly confessed their love for one another about a month in outside of a strip mall. They had a good, if not sudden, romance. He was there for her when her dog was killed by an untriggered bear trap, when her mom was injured in a car accident, and when her older brother was arrested for possession of cocaine. Bill didn’t have many problems to speak of, so he just stayed quiet and listened.
After Bill got into Stanford and made it into tryouts for their football team, it was Katie’s turn to listen. He couldn’t stay quiet, which was uncharacteristic of him when he had accomplished something big. Then, the next night, he got into a funny position in bed, fell out head first, snapped his neck, and that was that.
He always referred to the time he fell out of bed as the “accident,” even around Katie. He could never quite come to terms with the fact that something so stupid and trivial had paralyzed him. Those were the two words he used when he complained about it now. Stupid and trivial. He didn’t do much other than complain after he slowly stopped getting gifts and visits from his former team. He’d developed this philosophy that the universe was slanted against him, that all he could to was pity himself and demand pity from Katie. That’s why she sometimes described herself as “Bill’s emotional punching bag” with a nervous half-smile.
Katie was still in the waiting room, waiting as the doctors did whatever magic they had to to get Bill ready to see her. It was difficult to keep on loving him. At this point, she mainly just visited him because it was humane. Humane! And all she was doing right now was helping him wallow in his own misery!
This time, she wouldn’t let him complain. She would force him to grow. Between this and letting him languish in bed, this was certainly more humane.