Star Gods, стр. 4

“Here’s the thing, Zeke. Concussions are complicated. Aside from my earlier question, with the symptoms you are currently displaying, and the fact that you were unconscious when you arrived, I’m going to request you spend the night.”

I shake my head, and pain shoots through. “No, I’m not staying here.” The stupid blood pressure cuff tightens again. “Can you turn that off please, it hurts.”

Dr. Xiong pats my arm again. “Let’s get this last reading, and then we’ll take it off automatic.” He looks at the reading then back to me, making me more uncomfortable. “Your blood pressure is still higher than I would like.”

“What does my blood pressure have to do with my head?” My voice rises, and my head beats its own staccato.

“That’s why I asked about your brothers. Sometimes hidden stressors can cause a rise in blood pressure.”

“I told you,” I nearly shout, and I wince in pain. “Neither of my brothers did this. I don’t like hospitals, and I want to go home.”

I hear a commotion in the hall, and suddenly my brothers are in the room, and I sigh in relief. “I don’t want to spend the night, Ashe. Please, tell him I don’t have to spend the night.”

“Calm down, Zeke.” Ashe pushes in beside the nurse and clamps a hand down on my arm. I feel warmth spread with his power of healing—another ability he and Tyce both have. Ashe looks to the doc. “Are you requesting he spends the night because he got sick, or because you think Tyce and I are threats to him?”

“Ashe and I were both at work. Martin and Sons Garage on the corner of Third and Johnson Parkway,” Tyce says before Dr. Xiong can answer. “You can speak to Mr. Juan Gonzales as Ashe was under his car and me under the hood when the call came from my girlfriend about Zeke.”

“We’ll make sure he has low lighting and quiet at home,” Ashe says. “I had a concussion once and know the drill. We’ll bring him back in if he gets worse, or we think he needs to be here.”

Dr. Xiong nods and glances between us, before grabbing my chart and writing on it. “He’ll need to remain home until next Tuesday and come in here, or your doctor’s office, to have his stitches removed and be reassessed.”

“All we need is a doctor’s note for school,” Ashe answers.

“I’ll get that for you once I complete my exam and feel he’s safe to go home. If you two will please step aside, that will be helpful.”

“Sit down, Zeke. We need to go over a few things.”

I slowly drop onto the couch, slouching into the cushions and wishing I could just close my eyes. It feels much better than the hard hospital bed, and I almost sigh. Dr. Xiong wouldn’t release me until after a second assessment. Since I didn’t get sick again, he let me go home with the promise someone would be with me for the next forty-eight hours. It feels good to be home, except for Ashe’s bad mood.

“Head still hurt?” Tyce asks, falling into the recliner and pulling the release for the footrest.

“No.” It feels like constant pressure is being pushed onto my forehead, and Ashe being irritated doesn’t help any.

“You shouldn’t lie, you’re bad at it,” Tyce says, grabbing for the TV remote. Ashe snatches it from his hand as he sits on the coffee table. He places his foot on Tyce’s footrest and shoves it back into the chair.

“Dude, chill, he’s fine. Nothing a little healing power won’t fix.” Tyce leans toward me extending his hand.

Ashe smacks it away. “Knock it off, Tyce, neither one of us can heal him. Cesar will be stopping by to check on him. What are we supposed to say when he asks how he healed so fast?”

“How about the truth,” I answer, slouching more into the cushions as Ashe’s head snaps my way, and Tyce laughs.

“Really?” Ashe places one hand on one of his thighs looking a lot like Dad. “Who’s going to take you two knuckleheads in when I get put into a psych ward?”

“You never know,” I respond because, for some reason, I like to put my unwanted opinion in. “He may believe us.”

Ashe closes his eyes and shakes his head while Tyce laughs harder. “You’re lucky the cops believed your story,” Ashe reminds me. “Now they’re going to be looking for two guys that don’t exist to arrest for your assault.”

“What was I supposed to say?” I ask, my anger rising, and my head pulsates. “The Star Gods interrupted my walk home, and because I defied them, they beat me up a little?”

“How about you tripped and fell on your head?” Tyce snorts and Ashe punches him. “Oh, come on, that would be believable!”

“Shut up, Tyce,” Ashe warns. He brings his attention back to me. “Have the Luminaries ever hurt you before?”

“No.”

“Then why now?”

“I told you, I defied them.”

“It goes against our code of hurting no one. It’s the very first thing we’re taught.”

I shrug.

“What did they show you?” Tyce asks, changing the subject.

“Not much.” I drag my fingers through my hair. “After seeing a red haze and getting slammed, all I saw was a girl with long brown hair running toward me—I never saw her face.”

“This red haze”—Tyce releases the footrest and leans back—“ever experience it before?”

I rub my sore forehead. “No, never.”

“Maybe it’s not the Luminaries,” Tyce says more to Ashe than to me. “Maybe it’s a Star God who has something out for Dad.”

“Is that possible?” I ask.

“Anything’s possible,” Ashe responds.

I rub above my eyebrows where my head is throbbing. “Who would be able to attack me through a message?”

“I don’t know.” Ashe leans forward, placing his hand on my forehead, and I pull away. “Zeke, your head is pounding.”

I release myself from the comfort of the cushions. “Can’t heal me, remember?” I go into the kitchen, yank open the fridge, and grab a citrus soda, popping