Gia's message was an unexpected number 8 on his list. He had almost forgotten about her text, their meeting. Getting hospitalized and trying and failing to get out, and then trying to convince others to bring his laptop and his schoolwork here for him had been his top priorities. Next, of course, was contemplating the clusterfuck that had been the weekend that led to this, to six out of eight of the items on his dreaded list. In between spells of sleep, hazed consciousness, boredom and restlessness, and the occasional visitor, the thought had suddenly popped into his mind, barely an hour before the time of their meeting.
James: Darling, I'm sorry, I forgot to text - I've found myself hospitalized.
James: I can make visitors scarce at the time we were supposed to meet. Whitebridge Hospital, Room 341.
James sent the text. Going through his mind another time what it was Gia could possibly wish to speak of, and still finding nothing, he shut his eyes and waited. It was a precarious balance between resting to get better sooner and actually doing something productive with his time. Now, though, there was nothing but silence, the sterile hospital room, and the smiling balloon Charlotte had left on the foot of his bed.