I laugh as I read a few paragraphs about a time we fed the ducks at the pond, a big brown-and-white one almost taking my finger off while Marley laughed in amusement. I look over at her sitting on the opposite side of the couch from me, taking in the small smile on her face. The same girl I fell in love with.
Real.
I study the dark circles around her eyes, the curtain of hair hiding her from the rest of the world. Her sadness is heavier now than it was in my dream because she lets me see it all. She doesn’t hide behind her words, writing about the person she so desperately wants to be. Sometimes the darkness completely overtakes her, but I can see the Marley I know hiding just inside the shadows, fighting her way out.
I grew in the dream world. But I think she did too.
“This duck that almost bit my finger off… it was the same one that chased me that one time, wasn’t it?”
Marley’s lips tug up at the corners. “He didn’t stop until you gave him the rest of your popcorn.” Her leg lightly brushes against mine as she shifts her position, my heart skipping a beat. “That duck was always my favorite.”
“Of course it was.” I laugh, nudging her.
“Did you write it all down?” I ask, pointing to the page in front of me. “Everything you said to me?”
She nods, her finger lightly tracing the top of the notebook. “I tried to. Sometimes I would just start talking and the story would come flowing out. I didn’t even have time to write it.”
“What did you say about the first time we met?” I ask, flipping back to the beginning, thinking about the moment. I’ve been so busy jumping around looking for certain memories, I didn’t even start on the first page. “He looked like a complete wreck? Garbage on two legs?”
Marley laughs and shakes her head, the look in her hazel eyes making me melt. “I definitely didn’t say that.”
I smile to myself as I turn my attention back to her notebook, her words jumping off the page at me.
She saw him and she knew. She knew that he would understand.
* * *
The next day, I scroll slowly through another page of rescue dogs, trying my best to focus on the floofy Alaskan malamute or the stocky bulldog, but Marley’s arm resting up against mine is all I can think about.
That and the fact that we’re shoulder to shoulder in my tiny hospital bed, her face literally inches from mine. I force the thought out of my head.
We’re taking things slow. Pull it together, Lafferty.
I stop my scrolling, pointing to a silver Yorkie rescue.
Marley sits up and grabs the iPad, her eyes widening as she flips through the photos. “Oh my God. It’s her. It’s Georgia!”
And sure enough, it is her. Down to the markings on her paws. “You like her?” I ask, looking over her shoulder at the page.
“Oh.” She stops, leaning back, deflating like a balloon. I catch sight of a red box in the corner of the photo. ADOPTED. “Someone already got her.”
“Oh well,” I say, shrugging at the letdown. “Maybe she’ll go to a good home.”
Marley rolls her eyes at me, just like she would have before, and… it feels like we were never apart. Suddenly the electricity crackles between us, exactly how I remember. I can feel the both of us leaning forward ever so slightly.
She hesitates, tentatively reaching up to brush my hair back, lightly touching my scar, her fingertips gentle as they linger on my cheek, my mouth, tracing my lips, her touch familiar and new all at the same time.
I hold my breath as she leans farther in, our lips almost touching, when the door swings wide open.
“Oh shit, sorry,” Kim says from the doorway.
Marley and I quickly jump apart. “Early,” I say, letting out a groan. “You’re early.”
I look from Kim to Marley, her alarmed gaze turning to shock when she sees what Kim’s holding. The silver Yorkie from the animal rescue website is cradled in Kim’s arms. The second the pup sees Marley, she starts yipping like crazy.
She looks just like her picture, only cuter, a tiny yellow bow tied around her neck.
I’d spent the entire afternoon trying to get it just right before Kim nudged me out of the way, declaring she hadn’t done cheerleading for ten years to stand by when somebody butchers a bow.
“Oh man, I ruined it, didn’t I? Shit. I’m so sorry,” Kim says as she quickly closes the door before we can get in trouble, the puppy letting out a tiny bark. “Hey, Marley, I’m—”
“Georgia,” Marley whispers.
“Well, okay. Yeah,” Kim says, taken aback. She pauses, squinting as she fully processes that’s not her name. “I mean—no…”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head at her. In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her so nervous.
It’s kind of sweet, to be honest.
I smile and motion to the dog, and she comes to, collecting herself.
She turns to look at Marley, taking her in. “I’m Kimberly,” she says, clarifying that her name is not, in fact, Georgia.
Marley smiles shyly, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I know.” She looks between the two of us anxiously.
And Kim, still not knowing what to do, looks back over at me. So I point to the Yorkie puppy, loudly whispering, “Give it to her.”
“Oh, right! Yeah.” She holds up the dog. “She’s for you.”
Marley looks over at me, her hazel eyes filled with wonder.
Kim puts Georgia down on the bed, the tiny puppy clamoring over Marley’s legs to get to her. Marley sniffs, wiping away a tear.
“Oh man,” Kim says, super bummed. “That was a terrible surprise. I really botched it. I’m so sorry—”
Suddenly Marley’s hand reaches past me, taking Kim’s. “It’s perfect,” she says as Georgia tumbles into her lap, all wiggles and puppy kisses. “Thank you.”
Kim lets out a long sigh, finally relaxing. She smiles and looks down at Marley’s hand in hers. “I’m happy to finally meet you.”
“I’m happy… that you’re alive,” Marley says awkwardly.
There’s a long beat, and then Kim and I absolutely lose it, tears streaming down our faces as we laugh. Bashful, Marley joins in after a pause, and little Georgia, not wanting to be left out, lets out a “Yip!”
I wrap my arms around Marley, so in love. I’m not ever going to let her go again.
Suddenly there’s a knock at the door, and we all look up to see my mom and Sam, frozen in the doorway, both with absolutely no idea what they just walked in on.
I feel Marley fidget, pulling away from me, her eyes wary. This is a lot of people, all at one time. She starts to stand up, but I put a hand lightly on her arm, calming her.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. Her eyes meet mine, the tension slowly ebbing. She settles down and looks over at my mom and Sam, but stays quiet.
“Mom, Sam,” I say, a thousand-watt grin on my face. “Meet Marley.”
You’d think I just told them exactly what goes down in Area 51. They stand there, staring, for ten whole seconds. Then my mom squeals, running to the bed.
I hold out my arms, trying to stop her, but it’s no use. She throws her arms around Marley, who looks helplessly over at me, then at Kim, who shrugs in a way that says, Deal with it, girl.
Then, unexpectedly, Marley’s arms wrap around her, too.
I look over at Sam, still collecting himself in the doorway. He ruefully shakes his head at me, giving me one of his lopsided smiles. “You really are the luckiest son of a bitch—”
“Sam!” my mom says, pulling away from Marley to scold him.
He flinches. “Sorry, Mrs. L.”
My mom stares him down for a long moment, then… Marley begins to laugh. It’s infectious, working its way around the room until we’re all doubled over, a new memory forming, real and wonderful.
42
Early the next morning, I look through my phone at the pictures I took yesterday. Georgia being cute as hell, running around all of us in the courtyard. Sam and
Kim laughing as they sit at the edge of the fountain. And finally a picture of just Marley, the only one I have. A yellow rose is tucked behind her ear, little Georgia snoozing in her lap.
She isn’t quite smiling, but she’s beautiful.
There’s a quiet knock on my door, and I look up as it opens, surprised to see Marley’s mom standing in the doorway, not wearing a pair of scrubs. She gives me a long look before finally clearing her throat and speaking. “She told me what you did.”
My eyes flick to the calendar pinned to the wall under my TV, and I see it’s a Wednesday. She’s supposed to have off today.
Uh-oh.
She walks to my bed, her eyebrows jutting down in the same way Marley’s do when she’s upset.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sitting up. “I—”
“She told me,” she says, her voice breaking. “It’s been years… To hear her voice again… Thank you.”
She hugs me, and I feel a wave of relief that she isn’t here to tell me she is deathly allergic to dogs or to stay away from Marley with my dream nonsense. Mostly, though, I’m happy that Marley spoke to her. “Uh,” I say as she pulls away, wiping her tears. “Does that mean you’re not mad about the dog?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “It’d be pretty hard to be mad about something that cute.”
* * *
An hour later, the whole crew comes over, my mom, Kimberly, and Sam crashing into my room, bringing bagels from the shop near school. They sprawl out across every available inch of space, and it’s still not enough. Sam ducks out of the room, rolling back in a few seconds later on an unused office chair from the nurses’ station.
I’m just starting to dig into my everything bagel with cream cheese when there’s a knock on the door and Dr. Benefield strolls in. “Perfect. The gang’s all here,” she says, pushing her glasses up onto her head. “How do you feel about giving us back that bed? We can get you out of here in the next couple of days.”
I nearly break my neck nodding yes.
I glance to the side to see Kim practically bouncing from happiness. I’m nervous she’s excited enough to bust out an entire floor routine right here, right now.
“Wonderful! First things first, we need to plan a dinner. With Marley,” my mom says, already making plans. “And I’ll try to settle down. I won’t, you know, be myself. I don’t want to be too much too soon—”
I stop her, shaking my head. “Be yourself, Mom. You’re great.”
She gives me a big hug, kissing my head, just under the scar. Her face grows somber. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
I grin at her, shrugging. “I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.”
My mom turns to Kimberly, beaming at her. “And you, you little sneak.”
“Smuggling a puppy into a hospital is pretty badass,” Sam says proudly, freezing when Dr. Benefield raises her eyebrows in surprise.
“I’m not going to ask,” she says as she turns her attention back to me, a knowing smile on her face. “It’s all anyone’s talking about this morning,” she says, nodding toward the door. “I guess dreams do come true.”
I smile back at her. They really do.
43
The next day, Sam swings by in the afternoon, and the two of us stroll through the courtyard. His normally long strides are only a little bit cut short by my limp as the two of us slowly make our way toward the oak tree.
I pause, snapping a picture of the yellow Doris Days, adding in a HELLO before sending it over to Marley.
“Oh my God, dude, you’ve got it so bad.”
I grin at him, shrugging. “I do. Don’t you?”
But Sam doesn’t take the bait. Instead he pretends to hold up a phone, mimicking my selfie face.
I shove him playfully as my cell phone buzzes noisily in my back pocket. I grab it, accepting the call, fending off Sam while he tries to get to the phone.
“Hello. Hi. Hey,” I say as I wrestle him away. “What are you doing?”
“I’m at the park,” Marley says, her voice coming in softly through the speaker. “Playing with Georgia.”
“Can I see?” I ask, elbowing Sam again before he can say something stupid into the phone.
“Uh…,” she says, hesitating.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
“No, it’s fine,” she says, and the call switches to FaceTime, her face appearing in front of the tall trees and grass of the park. She went to the cemetery to talk to Laura this morning and she seems to be holding it together. I study her face as she tucks her hair behind her ear.
It looks like it went well. I want to ask her about it, but…
Sam.
His head pops into the frame and he grins at her, waving. I shove him out of the way, smiling. “Ignore Sam,” I say as Sam pouts, peering at the screen, comfortably out of view. “What’s she doing? Lemme see.”
Marley flips the camera to show a few kids playing with Georgia in the grass by the park path, the tiny pup chasing after a tennis ball that’s way too big for her mouth.
“They’re so sweet,” Marley says offscreen as one of the kids scoops it up and they begin to play monkey in the middle. Georgia’s tongue lolls out as she zooms back and forth between them.
“Look at her go,” I say, realizing how much I missed that little ball of energy. “Are you there by yourself?”
The camera turns and her face reappears, her hazel-green eyes glowing in the afternoon sun. “Mom’s here with me. She’s feeding the ducks,” she says, a small knowing look passing between us. “Popcorn,” we say at the same time.
“Speaking of moms,” I say, casually segueing into it. “Just something for you to start thinking about. No rush, of course,” I quickly clarify. I’m still not quite sure what’s too much too soon. “My mom really wants to have dinner with you and…”
I stop, watching as she looks quickly offscreen, her eyes widening in horror, but not over the dinner prospect.
“Georgia!” she says, and the phone drops from her face. I see for a fraction of a second the ball bouncing toward the road on the other side of the path and Georgia bolting after it. Marley sprints after her.
“Marley! What’re you doing?” I yell, the scenery blurring around her legs, the phone still in her hand as she runs.
A familiar icy panic courses through my veins.
Then, abruptly, the motion stops and the camera swings up to show Marley at the edge of the path, the street behind her, Georgia tucked safely in her arms. “I got her. We almost lost our girl—”
But behind her, I see the ball in the middle of the road and a little kid running toward it.
“Joey, look out!” a voice screams from somewhere out of view.
Marley’s head whips around to look behind her at the little boy. Her eyes turn back to me for a fraction of a second, the look in them filling me with dread.
I know exactly what she’s going to do before she does it.
“No!” I shout, trying to stop her. “Mar—”
The phone falls from her hands, and the screen fills completely with green as it tumbles into the grass. I hear the squeal of tires, then the sound of screams from the kids.
“Marley!” I scream, feeling helpless. “Marley!”
I hobble back inside as quickly as I can, hating this slow fucking leg. Sam’s already run ahead of me. As soon as I get inside, I’m forced into a wheelchair. Sam leans over me, right in my face. “Stop yelling, Kyle.” Am I yelling? My throat feels hoarse. Dry. Yes, I’m definitely yelling. But I can’t stop. Marley needs help. I need to get help. I fight the hands that keep me in the chair, but before I can push myself up again, I feel the prick of a needle and everything goes dark.
44
I jolt awake in my hospital bed, still screaming her name. “No! Marley—”
Hands grab on to my arms, and I look up to see Kimberly, my mom, Sam, all of them blocking my path.
“Kyle,” Kimberly says, trying to stop me from getting out of be
d, but I slip out of her grip, struggling to walk, my leg aching. “Hold on. Wait. Kyle.”
I have to get to her. I have to get to Marley. No more waiting. Not again.
I slide past Kim as my mom runs to the door, calling for help. Sam kicks a chair out of my way a split second before I crash into it. I’ve almost made it into the hallway when a nurse steps inside, blocking my way, a syringe in her hand.
“Do I need to sedate you again?” she asks.
“Where is she?” I ask, frantically spinning around to look at all of them, my eyes meeting theirs one by one. “Where is she? Where…?”
This can’t be happening again.
I’m steered into a chair and Kimberly kneels in front of me, grabbing ahold of my hand.
“Stop.”
I stare at her earnest expression, angry. Why is everyone telling me to wait? Why are they here with me when we should all be with her?
“I need you to listen to me.”
I fight the impulse to run, zeroing in on her blue eyes, trying to collect myself. I nod impatiently for her to continue.
“She saved the kid. She saved him and she’s alive, but…”
“We don’t know for how long,” a voice says from the door. I whip my head around to see Dr. Benefield, her face serious, a scrub cap in one of her hands. Our eyes meet, and she nods toward the hallway. “Come with me.”
I follow after her, everything a blur. The bright lights, the white tile, and the pale walls all morphing together. I hear Kim’s and Sam’s and my mom’s footsteps trailing closely behind us.
She stops short at a door, looking back at me before she reaches out and slowly opens it.
I step inside, afraid to look. Afraid to see Marley hurt. Dying.
Her mom sits at her bedside, her eyes fixed to the heart rate monitor, like she’s personally keeping it going with pure willpower. The steady beep, beep, beep is the only sound in the entire room.
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