She Died Too Young

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “But Amanda’s gone now,” Chelsea said quietly.

  The cold reality of that sad fact couldn’t be forgotten. All at once, Katie jumped up. “I’ve got to go. Josh is dropping me by the UM library so that I can work on my lit paper.”

  “Is he getting used to your studying so much with Garrison?”

  “Hardly,” Katie said, pulling Chelsea’s brush through her thick black hair. “But the whole thing is harmless, so Josh is just being paranoid for no reason.”

  “No reason?” Chelsea asked.

  Katie felt self-conscious and turned away from Chelsea. “Now, don’t go trying to psychoanalyze me the way you do everybody else. There’s nothing to analyze.”

  Chelsea arched her eyebrow. “Really? So, then why is your face turning red?”

  “I could wait out here in the parking lot for you to finish,” Josh said, pulling his car to a halt in the lot nearest the University of Michigan’s gigantic library.

  “It’s cold out here. You’ll freeze.” Katie gathered her books and prepared to get out of the car.

  “How much longer before you finish this paper anyway?”

  “Another few weeks. The basic research is almost over, then we’ll just have to write the thing.” She kept her voice light, as if the process were an annoyance. In truth, the paper was driving her nuts. Not the paper. Spending so much time with Garrison.

  She reached for the door handle. “Look, I’ll call you the minute I get home tonight.”

  “Garrison taking you home?”

  “What do you expect me to do. Josh? Call a cab?” She could tell that her retort stung him, so she tried a different tack. “Josh, you know how much I want to qualify for a track scholarship, but running isn’t enough to get me one like it once might have done. Coaches want competitive runners, but they also want good students. I lost a whole year of my life with my operation and all. I’m not the best anymore out on the track.”

  “You’re still good, Katie. I know how hard you train. By this spring when track season starts, you’ll be unbeatable.”

  “You have more faith in me than I do,” she said with a laugh. She sobered and with intensity added, “I want good grades. I want to earn that scholarship. Acing honors English would mean a lot to me. It’s a top priority in my life right now.”

  “There was a time when I was a top priority in your life,” Josh said softly.

  Guilt tore at her. Still, she clenched her teeth and tried not to overreact. “You still are.”

  “But not quite as high as studying with Garrison.”

  “It bothers me when you don’t trust me.”

  “Garrison bothers me. He’s cocky and a show-off, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  “This conversation is silly, and it’s going no place.” Katie jerked open the door. “I’ll call you later.” She slammed the door and hurried up the sidewalk. She heard Josh gun the engine and squeal out of the parking lot. The smell of burned rubber hung in the night air. She sagged on the steps of the brightly lit library, torn between going in and facing Garrison and going to a pay phone and calling Josh to come back for her.

  Then, remembering what she’d told Josh about the importance of her grades, Katie gathered her ragged emotions and went inside. She found Garrison on the fourth floor, back in a corner near a window. He waved as she approached. “You look unhappy,” Garrison said.

  The last thing she wanted was for him to suspect that there was tension between her and Josh. “It’s been a long day,” she replied, dumping her books and taking the chair across from his.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  He shrugged and turned an open magazine toward her. “I think this article is good. It discusses Iago’s lack of motivation for hating Othello, and this scholar thinks it weakens Shakespeare’s whole play. Without motivation, Iago’s hatred seems pointless.”

  She tried to focus on what Garrison was telling her. He was a brilliant thinker and as intent on scoring big on this paper as she was. He’d told her he was aiming for entering Harvard and after earning an undergraduate degree there would apply to the law school. “I guess motives count,” Katie said.

  She hated it when he looked at her as if he could see inside her thoughts. “Did you have words with the boyfriend?” he asked.

  She bristled. “Why would you assume Josh and I are having problems? There’s nothing wrong between us.”

  A sly smile flicked the corners of Garrison’s mouth. “You’re a lousy liar, Katie.”

  Flustered, she stood and, without meaning to, tipped her chair over. “You have no right—”

  He was beside her in an instant, took her hands in his, and tugged her toward him. “Calm down before they throw us out. Come on. I’ll take you to the student union and buy you a soda.” He began to lead her to the interior lobby and elevators.

  “But our books and stuff—”

  “Will be fine till we get back.”

  She said nothing, allowing him to take her out of the main entrance and into the night. I shouldn’t go, she told herself. For weeks, he’d treated her with friendly indifference—ever since the time she’d insisted she had a boyfriend and he’d acted surprised that she’d think he’d move in on her. She’d seen him with other girls around school. Part of her had been glad. But another part of her had reacted.

  Garrison drove to the student union without a word, and once they were inside the room where students gathered for coffee and visiting, he found them a booth, brought back two colas and an order of fries, and sat down next to her.

  She moved into the corner because his thigh was touching hers. He jabbed his straw into his cup, turned to her, and said, “So, what’s going on, Katie? What’s got you so wound up?”

  Seven

  WITHOUT WARNING, TEARS filled Katie’s eyes. Garrison didn’t say a word, only handed her a napkin. She dabbed at the moisture, hating herself for allowing Garrison to see her in such a state of muddled confusion. “I have a lot of pressure on me,” she said lamely.

  “But your boyfriend is a part of it, isn’t he? He doesn’t like us spending so much time together.”

  She peered at Garrison, and something in his expression told her more was going on than he was telling her. “Has Josh said something to you?”

  “He cornered me in the gym the other day. He said some things. Made some suggestions about what might happen if I didn’t butt out of your life.”

  “What things?” Katie felt shocked and mortified. This wasn’t like Josh at all. Josh was kind and sweet. He wouldn’t threaten anyone.

  “Look, Katie, it was just between us guys. Don’t worry. I wasn’t intimidated.”

  “If things were said about me, then it’s between all of us. I can’t believe what you’re telling me.”

  Garrison’s hand reached out and closed over hers. “He’s in love, Katie. I understand why he said what he did. How long have the two of you been involved anyway?”

  Josh had no right to manipulate her life this way. No right to decide who she could see or not see. Suddenly, her pounding heart reminded her of Josh’s role in her life. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes.

  “Katie,” Garrison whispered. “Please tell me what’s going on. I think I have the right to know.”

  She told him the story, haltingly at first, then with more intensity. She told him about her illness and her need for a transplant, about Aaron’s death and how Josh had figured out who’d received his brother’s heart. She told him about Gramps, Josh’s alcoholic parents, her own parents’ affection for Josh. She told him about the Transplant Games and her footrace and Josh’s role in her training. She finished with her hopes of a track scholarship and even a mention of Chelsea and how Katie needed to be there for her friend as she faced a similar transplant procedure.

  When she was finished, she leaned back in the booth, drained, but also purged. It had felt good to unburden herself. Garrison’s intense gaze never left her face, and for a momen
t she thought she might drown in the depths of his incredible brown eyes. “Well, I’ll have to admit, Katie, I’ve never heard anything like this before in my life.”

  “It isn’t something you walk around talking about. There are kids at school who know the basic facts, but they have their own lives to live, so no one thinks about me and my problems. Besides, I’ve never wanted anyone gossiping about me.

  “It explains why Josh is so protective of you. There’s you, of course. But there’s also a piece of his brother living inside you.”

  “That’s true. So, now can you see how complicated things are between me and Josh? He means a lot to me. He’s given me so much.”

  Garrison sighed and stood. “Come on. Let’s go back to the library.”

  “I can’t think about the paper tonight,” she confessed.

  “Me either. We’ll get our stuff, and I’ll take you home.”

  The trip back to the library, the collection of their books, and the drive to Katie’s house was a long, silent journey. Katie could tell that Garrison was deep in thought, and for a while, she wondered if she’d done the right thing dumping her life story on him. She was feeling uneasy and a bit disloyal to Josh. But he shouldn’t have done what he did by confronting Garrison.

  When Garrison stopped his car at Katie’s house, she fumbled for the door handle. He caught her arm. “Wait.”

  Slowly, she turned toward him. He raised her chin with his forefinger. “I’m glad you told me what you did, Katie. I see now that your involvement with Josh is far more complex than most relationships. Of course, it’s up to you, but I’d rather you not tell Josh I said anything to you about his and my discussion in the gym. I know he won’t come after me, and there’s no reason for the two of you to have a fight over it.”

  She nodded, feeling her heart—Aaron’s heart—thudding in her chest. “W-we still have the paper to finish,” she said. “I want to complete it … regardless of Josh.”

  “All right.” Garrison smoothed her hair, ran his fingers through its thickness, and caught it in his palm. “I want you to think about something for me.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve only known you a short while, but I heard all you said tonight. I want you to think long and hard about your feelings for Josh.”

  “I love him,” she replied quickly.

  Garrison ran his thumb down the length of her jaw, making shivers race up her spine. “He saved your life,” Garrison said, as if she’d not spoken. “That’s a big debt, Katie. But I want you to consider what you really feel toward him. Is it love or gratitude?”

  * * *

  Chelsea picked up the Chance card and read, “ ‘Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.’ ’ She squealed and placed her Monopoly game piece in the block marked “Jail.”

  “What are you complaining about?” Jillian said. “I’m the one who’s broke. Look, I’ve just landed on Boardwalk, and I can’t even afford to buy it.”

  “That breaks my heart.”

  The two girls were sitting in the middle of Jillian’s huge bed, the Monopoly board spread out between them. A room service cart loaded with sodas, desserts, and snack foods stood by the bed. Chelsea picked up the dice, jiggled them in her hand, and studied them closely. “You know,” she remarked, “I don’t think I’ve ever played a game of Monopoly quite like this one. Houses made out of real silver, hotels made from gold, brass game pieces—are these dice some kind of gemstone?”

  “Garnets,” Jillian answered, shrugging her shoulders apologetically. “Daddy’s idea. He had the set specially made for me. He gets a little carried away sometimes, but he means well.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Seems like a nice way to get carried away.”

  “He’s always trying to make it up to me because I’m sick. Like he feels it’s his and Mama’s fault.”

  “How could it be?”

  “Bad genetics,” Jillian explained with another shrug. “Parents feel guilty sometimes. You know-responsible for the defects.”

  Jillian’s explanation gave Chelsea pause. Had her parents ever felt the same way? They’d never had other children. Was it because of fears they’d have another defective one? “But your folks had healthy kids too.”

  “They did. Three others. But Daddy’s the type who remembers his mistakes, not his triumphs.”

  “But you all seem so close.”

  “We are. I love my family more than anything. They’re always around for me. I’ve tried real hard to not be sick, to be well for them, but I just can’t be. I’m hoping this transplant will change everything. I’m hoping that once it’s over and I’ve recovered, I can do all the things I want to do with them.”

  Jillian’s enthusiasm toward getting the transplant only reminded Chelsea of her fear of it. Why couldn’t she be eager and optimistic about it the way Jillian was? She asked, “So, what things would you do?”

  Jillian tipped her head thoughtfully. “I’d go on a weeklong trail ride the way DJ does. I’d herd the cattle and sleep under the stars. Daddy loves his ranch, and he’s made it plain that it will go to me and DJ when he dies. Our sisters all married rich, and they don’t care much about the ranch anyway.”

  “So, once you get well, you’ll become a cattle baron?”

  “Baroness.”

  They giggled together and didn’t hear the knock on the door, so DJ pushed it open and stuck his head inside the room. “Is that all you two have got to do?”

  “I didn’t say you could come in,” Jillian announced.

  “I didn’t ask your permission,” DJ countered good-naturedly, coming toward the bed.

  Chelsea felt her heart skip a beat. She shifted on the bed self-consciously. Because of her heart problems, she’d not had much experience being with boys, but she knew when a guy was affecting her emotions. DJ was cute. Rugged-looking. Chelsea had met plenty of guys over the summer at Jenny House, but none of them had made her blood race the way DJ did.

  “I thought you and Daddy were flying back to Texas this afternoon,” Jillian said. It was Sunday, and because of school for DJ and obligations at the ranch for their father, their visits were limited to weekends.

  “We’re taking off soon. Trying to get rid of me? So tell me, Chelsea, is that nice of my sister?”

  Chelsea’s mind went blank. “Uh—no,” she said, and felt dumb.

  “I’m shocked you even showed this weekend,” Jillian needled. “Shocked that Shelby unhooked your chain and let you out of her sight.”

  “You’re mean as a snake,” DJ said with an impish grin. “Shelby had a cheerleading camp to go to this weekend.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “I don’t know why I let you bad-mouth my girl this way.” Jillian opened her mouth to retort, but DJ covered it with his palm. “Don’t say something you’ll have to make up to me about.” He bent and kissed her forehead. “Got you last,” he said, backing away from the bed.

  Jillian raised up on her knees and put her hands on her hips. “You coming next weekend?”

  “Maybe. Would you miss me if I didn’t?”

  “Fat chance.”

  Chelsea watched the two of them give one another a long, clinging look, and realized how deep their affection for each other went. How scared each of them was of not seeing the other again.

  “If they beep you—”

  “Mama will call, and you and Daddy can be here in a few hours,” Jillian replied. “Now, go on and get out of here. Chelsea and I have a game to finish.”

  “Don’t let her cheat,” DJ told Chelsea.

  When he left, the room felt empty, as if it had somehow grown smaller. Chelsea saw a film of moisture in Jillian’s eyes, and didn’t know how to respond.

  Jillian sniffed loudly, wiped the back of her hand over her eyes, turned toward Chelsea, and asked, “So, tell me, Chelsea James, how long have you had this crush on my brother?”

  Eight

  CHELSEA FELT HER face flush and grow hot with
embarrassment. “What are you talking about?”

  Jillian skewered her with a knowing look. “Don’t play the innocent with me. It’s written all over your face whenever DJ walks in a room.”

  “Honestly, that’s just not true—”

  Jillian pierced the air with a squeal. “Friends know what friends are thinking. And real friends don’t deny the obvious.”

  Chelsea bowed her head guiltily. Jillian was right. What good did it do to deny what Jillian had already surmised? “Okay … so I’ve got this teensy-weensy little crush. But not to worry, he’s safe enough from me. I’m sure he doesn’t know I’m alive, what with his big romance with Shelby and all.”

  “Don’t remind me. I’d much rather have him interested in a girl as special as you.”

  “You think I’m special?”

  “I pick my friends real carefully. I liked you from the first minute I met you at that therapy session. And after we talked, I liked you even more. All my life, I’ve been the odd one, the sick one. People are sympathetic toward me, but no one really understands what it’s like to be sick one hundred percent of the time.”

  “I know what you mean,” Chelsea added. “Until I went to Jenny House this summer and met Katie and the others, I felt lonely and left out too. Everybody in the whole world seemed healthy except me. Kids on TV, in magazines—they’re all the picture of glowing health.”

  “You got that right. If it weren’t for telethons to raise money for some disease or other, the rest of the world would never think twice about people like us. Let’s face it, our lives have never been normal. What I’m wondering is, if we get these transplants, will our lives be normal then?”

  Chelsea pondered Jillian’s question. “Katie seems normal,” she said slowly. “But I know she can’t be completely normal. There’s stuff going on in her life she won’t even talk about with me.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “I’m not sure. But I feel that her transplant is somehow mixed up in it.”

  “But she’s all right?”

  “She’s all right in the physical sense.” Chelsea searched for a way to put her intuition into words. “She’s sort of at loose ends. Distracted. I can’t explain it.”