10

Nathaniel A coma. The doctor is telling us that Kingsley is in a vegetative state. He’s saying things about swelling in the brain due to the impact and that he might wake up in the next few days, weeks, or never. This hotshot surgeon spent hours working on my friend with his people, and yet he still couldn’t bring him back. He was in the operating room for hours, just to tell us that King might or might not wake up. I don’t miss the fake sympathy or his attempts not to give hope. But even if I grab and shake him, then punch him in the face, it won’t bring King back, and it sure as fuck won’t serve any purpose. Except for maybe getting rid of some of my pent-up frustration. Gwyneth listens to the doctor’s words with her lips slightly parted. They’re lifeless and pale, like the rest of her face. She clinks the nails of her thumbs and forefingers together in a frantic, almost manic type of way. It’s a nervous habit she’s had since she was a kid—since she learned the truth about her mother