A few minutes later, a young woman led a blonde little girl into
the room. The child looked about seven
or eight, and her arm was wrapped in a hot pink cast. The young man sitting across the room stood
up to meet them. AJ saw that the little
girl he had been holding in his lap before was sound asleep. The man was holding her, her head resting on
his shoulder. AJ could tell the young
couple were husband and wife. They spoke
quietly to one another, and the little girl showed her father her cast, which
had obviously just been put on.
Then, the little girl glanced around the room, while her parents
talked, her eyes resting first on the older man in the corner, and then on
AJ. Her blue eyes grew wide as she
recognized AJ. Inwardly, AJ groaned, but
he politely offered the child a smile.
She grinned back, glanced up at her parents, who were busy talking to
one another, and walked over to AJ.
“Hi,” she said, smiling shyly at him.
“Hi there,” AJ replied, forcing himself to smile back.
“Are you a Backstreet Boy?” she asked.
“Yes, I am,” AJ admitted.
Her eyes lit up.
“I knew it!” she exclaimed.
“I knew you were AJ!”
“Yup,” he said. He couldn’t
help but smile.
“I broke my arm,” the girl said, rather proudly, extending her
cast for AJ to see.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” AJ said sympathetically. “How did you do that?”
“I fell,” she replied simply.
“Hey, will you write on my cast?”
“Sure,” AJ said. “Do you
have a-”
“Ashlee!” the girl’s mother suddenly interrupted from across the
room. She hurried over. “What are you doing? You know not to-”
“Mommy, it’s AJ from BSB!” Ashlee said, motioning to AJ and
grinning widely. Her mother’s eyes
widened as she realized it really was AJ.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I hope
Ashlee wasn’t bothering you,” her mother said apologetically to AJ.
“No, not at all,” AJ replied.
“Actually, I was just going to sign her cast, if I could find a marker.”
“Oh, I think I have one,” the mother said, digging through her
purse. She pulled out a thin, black
permanent marker and handed it to AJ.
“Thanks,” AJ replied. He
took the marker and wrote a short message on Ashlee’s cast, signing his name at
the end. Ashlee grinned.
“What do you say?” her mother prompted her.
“Thank you!” Ashlee said brightly.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” AJ said.
“Well, honey, we’ve got to get home. It’s very later, and your sister’s sound
asleep,” Ashlee’s mother said.
“Okay,” Ashlee replied.
“Bye, AJ!”
“Bye, Ashlee!” AJ said back.
“I hope your arm gets better soon.”
He smiled and watched as Ashlee ran over to her father to show off his
autograph on her cast.
“Excuse me, sir?” a voice suddenly asked. AJ glanced over to see a middle aged female
doctor standing beside him. He took a
deep breath and tried to prepare himself for the worst.
“Are you with Nick Carter,” the doctor asked.
“Yeah, I am,” AJ replied.
“Ok, my name’s Dr. Maggie Fergeson, and I’ve been caring for Nick
since he was brought here,” the doctor introduced herself.
“I’m AJ McLean, his friend,” AJ replied, shaking Dr. Fergeson’s
hand. Then he looked up at her, his
brown eyes, for once not hidden by a pair of sunglasses, wide with fear and
anxiety. “Dr. Fergeson, please, is
Nick…” He let his sentence trail off,
not trusting his voice to finish the question.
“He’s alive,” Dr. Fergeson said quickly, and immediately, AJ
sagged with relief. “However,” she
continued, “he’s not nearly out of the woods yet. His condition is very serious. You see, when he was brought in, his blood
alcohol level was at .36%.”
“How bad is that?” AJ said.
“Well, .5% is enough to cause certain death,” she replied
slowly. “In Nick’s case, not only was
his BAL sky high, but he had some other drugs in his bloodstream, which most
likely interacted with the alcohol and caused a bad reaction.”
“Drugs?” AJ asked, shocked.
“Medications,” she rephrased, and the horrible pictures of Nick
shooting up with heroin or something quickly disappeared from AJ’s mind. “Is Nick on any prescriptions?”
“Uh… yeah, he’s taking some kind of anti-depressant, but I can’t
remember the name of it,” AJ replied.
“Then that’s what probably caused Nick to go into cardiac arrest,”
she said. “His BAL alone most likely
wouldn’t have done it, although, if this was one of his first times drinking
like that, it could have.”
“Yeah, Nick just turned 21 a few weeks ago. He’s drank before a little, but he’s never
been really drunk,” AJ explained softly.
She nodded. “His tolerance
is low,” she said. “That’s part of the
problem.”
“So, is Nick going to be okay?” AJ asked suddenly. Dr. Fergeson took a deep breath, and AJ had a
sudden gut feeling that what she was about to tell him wouldn’t be good.
***