Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card (Jessie and Luke)

JUNGLE HOSPITAL LUKE

The room was hot, the kind of humid heat that clung to your skin like a second layer. This wasn't any hospital I was used to-

there was no sterile smell of antiseptic, sharp beeping monitors, or clean, white walls. Instead, I was convinced a chicken was about to stroll in through the front door, and this place kept remedies in jars probably made in a garden they have outback. I didn't care-l was alive, and I hadn't felt this good in months. But at least there were people.

Other people.

Not just Josh and Sarah.

Now, I needed to somehow tell Jess I was alive, but looking around, I wasn't convinced this place had an international mobile network.

The realization hit me like a slap, and panic gripped my chest. "Josh. Sarah." Their names tore out of me as I pushed against the stiff sheets, my body lurching forward.

Two nurses immediately sprang into action, their hands firm but not harsh as they pressed me back onto the cot. Their voices were a rapid-fire of words I couldn't understand.

"Wait-no!" I struggled against their hold, but my limbs felt weak, every movement a reminder of how broken I was. That's when I felt the tight, pulling ache in my shoulder, the dull throb at my

0.00%

temple. My fingers reached up on instinct, brushing against. thick bandages wrapped around my head.

My shoulder was wrapped, too. Moving my arm sent pain down. my side, but at least I could move it. Fighting them wasn't going to help. It would just make things

worse.

The nurses murmured to each other as they checked my bandages, their touch brisk and efficient. When one of them leaned closer to dab at my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the torn edges of my shirt, still stained with blood. My blood.

The thought made my stomach churn, and I clenched my jaw to avoid wincing.

Once the nurses finished, another man stepped into view. He was older, his brown shirt rumpled and damp with sweat, his face weathered but kind. He carried a small flashlight, which he immediately shone into my eyes. I winced, squinting against the sudden brightness. "Shit," I muttered but tried t keep still.

The man-doctor, I guessed-muttered something I didn't catch, then stepped back with a slight nod.

"Are my friends here?" I asked, pushing myself upright again, ignoring the nurses' protests. "Josh and Sarah. Are they here? Are they okay?"

My mind spiraled with possibilities. What if I'd been the only one

pulled out of the water? What if Josh and Sarah were still out there, stranded on that boat or worse-

The doctor smiled, and the sight stopped my thoughts in their tracks. Was that a yes? Did that mean they were here?

I pressed him harder, my voice rising. "Are they okay?"

Before he could answer, a voice cut through the tension, sharp and familiar.

"Well, the suicidal idiot lives!"

Relief hit me like a wave, washing away every ounce of panic. I turned my head so fast my vision blurred, and there she was Sarah, standing in the doorway with a half-smirk and her hands on her hips. "Last time I go sailing with you boys," she added as she strode into the room.

The knot in my chest loosened, and I let out a shaky breath. Without thinking, I reached for her, pulling her into a hug. She didn't hesitate, wrapping her arms around me just as tightly.

"What about..." My voice faltered, and I hesitated, the last image of Josh flashing in my head. He'd looked so bad-the blood, the wound. Part of me didn't want to ask, didn't want to hear the

answer.

Sarah must have seen the fear in my eyes because her

expression softened. "He's okay," she said, her voice steady. "They were able to clean the wound in what they call a 'theatre' here-though it looks more like a closet."

"Yeah - I noticed we weren't exactly at Mout Sinai. But I am just happy I get to see faces that don't look like you and Josh." I was able to joke.

Sarah continued, her tone reassuring. "It's clean, though.

They've got him on antibiotics. From what I could read on the paperwork, he's stable."

"Stable." That word meant nothing to me, but I am clinging to the word alive because as much as I want to get off this new island and see Jess, if I come back without Josh, Laura might just kill me anyway. "Nobody here speaks English, though," Sarah shrugged, glancing toward the nurses. "I've been piecing it together as best I can."

"Hopefully, someone here has a phone, though. We need to tell someone back home we are alive."

POOL DAY