Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

“She loves you too. And she called yours, by the way, to let her know what was going on. I didn’t realize they’re still such good friends.”

  Evan nodded and closed his eyes. It was almost ten hours since he’d gotten the call from Tom, and he was starting to feel exhausted.

  “We’re going to have to play nice,” Tom said softly as they walked down a long hallway lined with wards on either side. “Visiting hours are technically over, so they might not want to let us in.”

  Evan nodded. “Okay.”

  “My mom and Lacey already went to book us all into hotel rooms for the night, since we definitely can’t stay here. Dad and Anthony are with him now, but we should be able to trade with them.”

  It took a few minutes of sweet-talking and wrangling, but Tom had obviously made friends with the nurse on duty, who agreed to let them through as long as Evan behaved himself. She looked him over with a pinched frown, taking in his sandy blond hair and gray eyes and tanned skin, so different from the Sparrow kids’ dark hair and blue eyes. Still, she let him through, and Evan breathed a little easier.

  “He’s asleep,” Mr. Sparrow said softly, rising as Evan tugged his suitcase over the threshold to Scott’s room. “It’s good to see you, Evan.”

  Evan let himself be pulled into one of the strong hugs he associated with the Sparrow men. They weren’t afraid to show affection. It was a strange comfort, to be held by a father figure while he felt his world shaking on its axis.

  “We’ll give you some space,” Anthony said.

  “Thanks,” Evan murmured, shaking Anthony’s hand firmly before moving over to Scott’s bed.

  Scott looked like hell. His skin had a sickly pallor, grayish and too pale, and his features seemed sunken. There were IV drips in both his hands and an oxygen tube around his face, the little tubes stuck into his nostrils.

  “We’ll be outside,” Tom said, clasping Evan’s shoulder and squeezing it before he left.

  For long moments, all Evan could do was look at the man in the bed, looking like an echo of the one he’d loved for so long. This wasn’t his Scott. This was some other Scott, one he wanted to trade back in for the real version.

  It eventually occurred to him to sit down, and he shuffled around the bed to the padded chair in the corner of the room. The seat was wide enough for Evan to be able to tuck his feet up, and he wrapped his arms around his knees so he could bury his face in them and cry and cry and cry.

  IT WAS a few hours before Scott woke. With the nurses on his side, reluctantly agreeing to let Evan stay as long as he was quiet, Evan had fallen into a fitful sort of exhausted sleep, unable to really let himself rest. There was a soft shuffling from the bed next to him, and Evan stretched, looking over as Scott blinked awake.

  “You came,” he croaked.

  “You asked for me.”

  “Yeah,” Scott said, then coughed. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.

  “Okay?” Evan asked.

  “I’m dying, Evan.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I am,” he insisted. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave without seeing you again. I wanted to kiss you one last time.”

  Evan pressed his forehead to the starchy sheet next to Scott’s hip and forced himself to not cry again. After a second, Scott’s hand brushed through his hair.

  “Evan. Let me kiss you.”

  “No,” Evan croaked. “No. I’m not saying good-bye. I’m not going to let you give up.”

  He looked up, straightening his back, and felt his heart crack again. Scott looked so, so weak.

  “Please, Evan.”

  “No. You’re going to get better, and you’re going to walk out of this hospital, and then I’ll kiss you again.”

  “But what if—”

  “There is no what if. I’m not letting you go. So you better fucking fight, Cap. This is for us, now.”

  Scott nodded, and Evan tried not to focus on the tears slipping down his best friend’s cheek.

  “Okay.”

  “Go back to sleep,” Evan murmured, taking his hand and brushing his lips over it. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Scott didn’t say anything, just drifted away.

  THE NEXT time Evan woke, it wasn’t because there was a crick in his neck. The door to Scott’s room burst open and several people rushed in and someone shoved him out of the way as they adjusted Scott’s bed so he was lying flat.

  They—the nurses—were all talking too quickly, and he didn’t understand, but something seemed to be wrong, and monitors were beeping, and no… no….

  “Scott,” Evan gasped, and one of the male nurses pushed him back.

  “Stay out of the way,” he said, voice hard. “Let them work.”

  “I didn’t… he wanted, and I wouldn’t let him….”

  The nurse turned away, back to Scott, and all Evan could do was stand with his back to the wall, palms flat against the rough paint, and pray to a God he didn’t believe in.

  It took a lifetime, but eventually one of the nurses, a small Hispanic woman with her hair tied back in a severe bun, stepped back and nodded.

  “He’s stabilizing.”

  Evan felt his body crumpling, and he slid down the wall, shaking.

  “Come on,” the male nurse said. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  “I can’t leave him.”

  “He’s okay. They’ve got him back.”

  “Did he…?”

  “No. It was close. They’re going to have to adjust his medication. And you need sugar or something for shock. Trust me. I’m a nurse.”

  Evan allowed himself to be hauled to his feet and dragged out of Scott’s room, feeling like something was incredibly wrong with the situation.

  “Brothers?” the nurse asked when they were out in the hallway, the fluorescent lights too harsh, too white for Evan’s tired eyes.

  “We’re close,” he said grimly.

  The nurse huffed a laugh. “Andre.”

  “Evan.”

  “Come on.”

  There was a small kitchen to the side of the nurse’s station Evan had passed earlier. The clock on the wall told him it was a little after three in the morning. He wondered vaguely where the others were and decided not to ask.

  Andre immediately went to an electric kettle and filled it with water, then set it on to boil.

  “Tea? It’ll be better for your nerves than coffee.”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  “You can take a seat,” Andre said, gesturing to a few soft chairs gathered around a coffee table. There was a young female nurse napping in one of them; Evan took a seat as far away from her as possible.

  “Is it okay for me to be in here?” Evan asked.

  “No one will mind.”

  “Okay.”

  Andre caught him glancing back out at the hallway. He could just see the door to Scott’s room from this angle.

  “He’ll be okay now,” Andre said.

  “What happened?”

  “His heart rate dropped dramatically. Probably because of the infection. They’ll need to up his antibiotics again now. He’s a fighter.”

  “I told him he had to fight.”

  “It’s not easy. I’ve seen enough people come through this ward. It’s easier to let go.”

  “I gave him something to fight for earlier. Or so I thought.”

  Andre set a mug of hot tea on the coffee table in front of him, and Evan nodded his thanks.

  “Sometimes that’s enough, sometimes it isn’t. Where are you from?”

  “Virginia Beach. Scott lives here now, though.”

  “This is one of the best hospitals in the country, Evan. I can promise you we’ll look after him. You should probably go and get some rest, though.”

  “I’ll stay here, if it’s okay with you,” Evan said, shaking his head and sipping his tea. It was sweet. “Until the others get back.”

  “Okay. I’m not going to kick you out.”

  “Thanks.”

>   AND SO this became Evan’s life for the following days. He slept in fits and bursts, sometimes in the motel room Scott’s dad had rented for him, sometimes in the chair in Scott’s room or on the floor. Sometimes in the nurse’s break room, when Andre was there to let him in.

  He watched Scott get sicker, then a little better. Scott’s progress was patchy, and Evan quickly learned not to get his hopes up. Scott hadn’t asked to kiss him again. No one in Scott’s family said anything about Evan’s sudden dedication to sticking close to his side.

  Three days after Scott’s crash, he woke up lucid for the first time. Evan had been working on his iPad and quickly closed it to rush to Scott’s side when he sat up and looked frantically around.

  “It’s okay,” Evan said, his voice low and soothing. “You’re in the hospital.”

  “Oh,” Scott croaked and collapsed back against the pillows.

  Evan gently stroked Scott’s dark hair back from his face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay. I think.”

  “You don’t need to sugarcoat it for me.”

  Scott frowned, like he was thinking hard. “No, I’m okay. Better.”

  “The nurses say you’re doing better,” Evan said, still stroking his hand over Scott’s head. “Your body is fighting the infection, which is why you’re so tired. But you are fighting it.”

  “What else did they say?”

  “Well, you’re going to feel like crap for a while longer. But they’re upgrading your status from ‘serious’ to ‘fair,’ which means you might move onto a bigger ward soon.”

  “How long till I get out of here?”

  “Probably another week, at least.”

  Scott leaned back against the pillows and took a few slow breaths. Evan thought he might be falling asleep again until Scott reached out and gripped his leg.

  “Will you do me a favor?” he asked, voice low, eyes still closed.

  “Of course.”

  “I, uh… I have a cat. My mom said one of the neighbors from my building’s residents’ association has been checking in on her. But she likes to be fussed over, and I’m worried.”

  “Of course,” Evan said softly. “I don’t mind.”

  “Just spend some time with her. And play with her a bit.”

  “Okay. What’s her name?”

  Scott was quiet, and Evan couldn’t help but panic just a bit. “Scott?”

  “Princess,” Scott said, and Evan was almost relieved to see the faint flush of color in his cheeks. “It was a nickname. I guess it stuck.”

  Evan let out a barking laugh, suddenly aware of how long it had been since he’d laughed last. “You named your cat Princess,” he teased softly.

  “Yeah. Shut up.”

  “I’ll go see her,” Evan promised. “You sleep now.”

  “Okay,” Scott said and closed his eyes.

  IT TOOK some organizing for Evan to get hold of Scott’s apartment keys and make his way across town to the apartment block where Scott had lived for three years, according to the terrifying gatekeeper Evan met at the front door. Since all of Scott’s family lived far away, he’d named one of his friends in Chicago as his emergency contact on his lease. That meant Gordon needed to clear Evan to go into the apartment, and he worked late hours at the same financial services company Scott worked for.

  “Fourth floor,” the doorman said as Evan explained the situation. “Apartment 404.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Evan said, attempting a little Southern charm. He was apparently unswayed.

  The building was clearly converted from something else into apartments. The ceilings were high and the staircase wide—wider than it would be if it were a new building. There was an elevator, but Evan decided to take the stairs and get a miniworkout.

  Scott’s apartment was nice. Really nice. It was only a little smaller than Evan’s house, and he immediately felt a rush of something, shame maybe, in his belly. They’d come out of the same high school with similar grades, and Scott had ended up here, when Evan had only just managed to make it out of his hometown.

  A tiny, plaintive cry stole Evan’s attention.

  The cat was a beauty—a gray-and-white striped tabby with a white chin and bright green eyes. Evan immediately crouched down and let her come to him, holding his hand out for her to sniff. “Hey, Princess,” he murmured.

  After a second, she seemed to decide to trust him and nuzzled her neck against his wrist.

  “Let me get out of my jacket, and then I’ll spoil you,” he said.

  There was a closet just inside the door, but Evan decided to throw the jacket over his arm and wander through the apartment instead. Princess followed him.

  The kitchen was black and chrome, modern and minimalist, and the stack of mail at the end of the breakfast bar told Evan Scott’s neighbor was stopping in fairly regularly. There were two silver bowls on the floor next to the fridge, one with plenty of water and the other full of kitty kibble. So she’d been fed.

  Evan checked the cupboards, noting good plates that seemed like they got used, kitchen utensils that also showed signs of wear, and a baffling array of gadgets. It took a few minutes to locate the cat food and treats—in a high cupboard that made sense—and Evan grabbed the little pouch of treats.

  He startled when a soft head butted against his wrist. Princess nuzzled him again, and he couldn’t help but grin at her low, steady purr.

  The family room had big windows that looked out over the street below, a black leather sofa with a fluffy blanket over the back, and a huge flat-screen TV. The remote for the TV lay on the arm of the sofa, so Evan grabbed it to switch it on, then pulled off his shoes and swung his legs up onto the seat.

  “Princess,” he called, feeling stupid.

  She immediately appeared and started clawing at his jeans. Evan scratched behind her ears and reached for the packet of kitty treats. He pulled one out and let her nibble at it. He flicked through the TV channels until he found a home renovations show he watched from time to time and settled in to spoil Scott’s frankly adorable pet.

  It was one of those days that never seemed to get to full brightness—the sun hidden behind too many layers of thick, dark clouds. Scott’s apartment was warm, his couch comfortable, and the weight of the cat on his lap nudged him into an unfamiliar feeling of contentment. Evan had never considered getting a pet before, but now….

  He woke to the sound of his phone ringing and startled, not even realizing he’d fallen asleep.

  “Hello?” he croaked.

  “Hi, Evan, it’s Annie,” Scott’s mom said. “We just wanted to check you’re okay.”

  “Yeah. Sorry.” He stretched. “I came over to check in on Scott’s cat.” Who was still asleep on his lap. He stroked her silky-soft head and grinned. “How’s Scott?”

  “He’s good. Let me tell him where you are. He was asking.”

  “Sorry, Annie. Do you need me to come back?” Evan asked. He already knew he didn’t want to. This apartment was unfamiliar, exotic and elegant where his own place was run-down and shabby. But it still felt homey.

  He could hear her murmuring to someone in the background, and he stretched again, releasing a crick in his neck.

  “Scott says you can stay there tonight if you want,” Annie said. “I know you don’t have any of your stuff with you, but you can borrow anything you like. He also says the cat might sleep on your head, so fair warning.”

  Evan huffed a laugh. “Okay.”

  “There’s no food in the fridge, but there’s a pile of takeout menus in the drawer next to the microwave.” Her tone changed as she addressed her son. “Really, Scott? I taught you how to cook.”

  Evan laughed again. “That’s fine. I can order something in.”

  “Okay. We’ll see you tomorrow. Call if you need anything.”

  “Will do. Thanks, Annie.”

  He hung up, feeling strange. Scott was obviously feeling better if Annie was scolding him. So that was good. He was going to stay in Scot
t’s apartment tonight, though, in Scott’s bed, wearing Scott’s pajamas.

  He shuddered a little at the thought.

  “Sorry, Princess,” Evan said as he dislodged the cat from her napping spot on his lap. She yawned widely, then plonked herself back down in the warm spot Evan vacated.

  He used the bathroom, which was sleek black and chrome too, like the kitchen, then went into the bedroom.

  The door was open, so he’d seen into it when he’d walked past. This room wasn’t sleek and black. The walls were a warm sage green, with thick cream carpet on the floor and dark green sheets on the bed. The bed frame was dark wood, sleigh style, and there was another cream-colored blanket folded over the footboard. All the furniture in here was wooden, different types and styles melting together.

  It was obvious Scott had left in a rush. There was a book on the nightstand with a pair of reading glasses folded on top. A phone charger cable was wrapped around the stem of a lamp that had a forest on the lampshade.

  Evan poked into the closet and found rows of tailored suits, all still in dry cleaning bags. There was a tie rack, holding more ties than Evan knew he’d ever worn in his life, and half a dozen pairs of neat dress shoes.

  As the thought occurred to him, Evan tried not to let himself go there. It wasn’t fair or right; it was intrusive and rude.

  Still, he went looking for the porn.

  In the nightstand with the book on it, he found condoms, just two, Durex brand, alongside three more paperbacks and a box of Kleenex and a handful of loose change. He let his fingers drift over a small pendant on a chain. Saint Christopher. Scott had kept it.

  The bottom drawer contained thick socks. Evan guessed they were for wearing in bed when it got cold.

  The nightstand on the other side of the bed had nothing in it. Not even loose change. The drawers were slightly sticky, like they hadn’t seen much use. It was obvious no one lived here with Scott.

  He went back to the closet and found a safe, but no sex toys and no porn. That was probably normal. In this day and age, who kept physical porn? It was all online.

  There had been a MacBook on the counter in the kitchen, but Evan had ignored it. If Scott had porn, it would be on there, right?