by Kasie West
He wiggled his eyebrows. “We’ll see about that.” Then he ran off, probably to start the early invites to a party I didn’t want.
Lisa plopped into the seat next to me in sixth period—Government. “Where were you at lunch?”
“Avoiding people.” And looking for Dax. Since the initial sighting that morning, I hadn’t been able to find him again. Was this how he was going to play it? We were just supposed to go back to normal, like we didn’t know each other at all?
“You look tired.”
“I am. I should’ve stayed home.”
“You should just wear a sign for the next week that says ‘Touch me and I’ll put an ugly pic of you in the yearbook.’”
I smiled. “Think that’ll work?”
“That’s the ultimate threat, Autumn. Use your power.”
I pulled my binder and a pen out of my backpack because Mrs. Harris started writing on the whiteboard. “I want to go to the hospital today after school and talk to Jeff’s parents. Take them flowers or something.”
“Do you know his parents?”
“I met them at his pool party last summer. I feel like I need to do something.”
“Me too. I’ll come with you.”
“Thank you.” I was hoping she’d say that. I still wasn’t sure what I would say to his parents. You probably don’t remember me but I should’ve been in that car with your son? Sorry I wasn’t with him when he plummeted forty feet into a river? Those would make great icebreakers.
“They’ll probably be happy to see some of his friends.”
“They’ll tell us how he is, right?” I asked.
“I hope so.”
Mrs. Harris clapped her hands twice. “Okay, class, get to work on these questions, then we’ll discuss.”
CHAPTER 20
“These flowers feel too cheery, too bright,” I said, unable to get out of the car even though Lisa had turned off the engine two minutes ago and the car was slowly transitioning to cold.
“I think that’s the point. We’re not going to a funeral, Autumn.”
I groaned. “I know.” My palms were sweating. I took several deep breaths. He was fine. Jeff was fine. I pulled on the door handle and pushed open the door. “Let’s go.”
The lady at the information desk pointed the way to the intensive care unit waiting room, warning us that’s as far as we’d make it if we weren’t family. I was okay with that.
Lisa grabbed my hand as we turned the last corner.
I recognized Jeff’s parents immediately from the summer before—both tall and handsome, like Jeff. They sat in the corner of the room, a few others I didn’t recognize around them. It seemed as though their bodies and the chairs they sat in had become one, like they’d been there for years. A television was on in the corner but nobody was watching it. My chest tightened another notch.
“We shouldn’t be here. I feel like I’m intruding,” I whispered. “You think they’ll be mad at me that I’m fine and he’s . . . ?”
Lisa pulled on my arm, forcing me to face her. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I think they’ll be happy that you care about Jeff and you’re here to check on him. You’re breaking up the monotony of their day.”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.” She walked forward, pulling me with her.
Jeff’s mom barely glanced at Lisa before meeting my eyes. The stem of one of the daisies in my hand snapped. I loosened my hold.
She stood, her hands going to her mouth. Jeff’s dad looked at her and then followed her gaze to me. He offered a shaky smile. Then Jeff’s mom was weaving past chairs and people until she stood in front of me. I felt seconds away from passing out even though I had only ever passed out the one time.
I held out the flowers lamely, unable to speak. Lisa saved me.
“Mrs. Matson, we are so sorry about Jeff and just wanted to come and say that we were thinking about him.”
Even though Lisa had been the one talking, Mrs. Matson’s hazel eyes hadn’t left mine and they crinkled with a smile. “Autumn,” she said.
So she did remember me. “Yes, hi.”
She gripped me by my shoulders, the flowers still held out between us. “Autumn.”
This was getting weird. I nodded.
“I’m so happy you’re here. Jeff thinks the world of you.”
“He does?” I’d always hoped he was talking about me to someone. I never imagined it was his mom.
She pulled me into a hug, her chin digging into my forehead. The flowers, which I’d only slightly destroyed before, were now crushed. When she let go, still not acknowledging Lisa, she began dragging me toward the waiting group. I helplessly followed, giving Lisa a look that said, please don’t abandon me. She read it well and stayed close on my heels.
“Jason,” Mrs. Matson said when we reached her husband. “This is Autumn.”
A barely-there smile appeared on his face. “Yes, I remember you from a party at our house, nice to see you.”
I held out the now limp flowers, hoping someone would take them from me. He did.
“Thank you.”
“Autumn wants to see Jeff,” Mrs. Matson said out loud.
“Oh. No, that’s okay, I know it’s family only. I just wanted to find out how he was doing.”
“Yes, it’s family only, cousin Autumn,” Mrs. Matson said, giving me a wink.
“What?” I don’t know why I said that. I got her implication immediately. I was just shocked. Why would she want me to see Jeff?
My own question was answered minutes later, after Lisa had given me a shrug, after Mr. Matson had gone along with the lie, his dark eyebrows only rising slightly in surprise, after I’d made it past the nurse with the cousin story despite my sweaty palms. Mrs. Matson linked her elbow with mine conspiratorially as we followed the nurse down a long white corridor. She whispered, “These first few days are very important for Jeff. They’ve put him in a medically induced coma until some of the swelling in his brain has gone down. Maybe his girlfriend is just the medicine he needs.”
“No . . . I mean we’re not . . . we never even . . . we’re not together.”
“I know, but it was only a matter of time, right?”
I swallowed hard. Yes, it was only a matter of time. I liked him. So I could forget about the pressure I felt right now to be what his mom needed me to be—some sort of miracle worker. I could try to shake off the jitters I always felt about seeing someone sick and helpless. Right now he needed me. We stopped outside a door and the nurse pushed it open. His mom smiled my way, and we all stepped inside.
The room was quiet except for a beep from the machine next to his bed that sounded in a steady rhythm. But even that became distant as I took Jeff in. There was a long gash on his forehead that was stitched up and surrounded by what looked like iodine. There were heart monitor pads on his chest and a tube coming out of his mouth. His eyes were swollen and there were a few scrapes on his arms. I tried not to let the stinging in my eyes turn into tears.
“Go sit next to him. Let him hear your voice,” his mother said.
This woman had seen too many movies.
“We can’t stay long,” she continued. “They like to let his mind rest, and too much excitement in the room seems to raise his heart rate. But you have a few minutes.”
A few minutes was more than enough. My heart rate was high enough for the both of us.
She nudged me toward the chair at his bedside. “Don’t be afraid to touch him.”
I sat and looked at his arm, not sure if I wanted to. But she was standing beside me, full of hope. So I reached out and placed my hand on an open patch of skin between a scrape and the IV. I did want Jeff to know his friends were here and thinking about him.
“Hey, Jeff. It’s Autumn.” I felt self-conscious speaking to him with an audience.
His mom must’ve sensed this because she said, “We’ll give you a couple minutes.” Then she told the nurse she had a few questions and they went out into
the hall.
I waited for the door to shut, then cleared my throat. “Hey. I came to see you.” I wasn’t sure what else to say but went on anyway. “You don’t look too bad. Only slightly worse than that time you went through the car wash without your car.” I laughed a little, remembering that day. We’d seen an empty field of mud as we were driving home from lunch. Lisa had said something about how it was too bad we hadn’t taken her four-wheel drive. Jeff got that mischievous gleam in his eye and said, “Who needs a four-wheel drive?” Then he’d proceeded to drive donuts in it. Only he’d forgotten to roll up his window. So not only did his car get a mud bath, he did as well. That’s when he got the idea to walk through the car wash at the gas station before heading back to school. The bristles left a few scratches on his face, and he came out looking like a drowned rat.
“Remember that, Jeff? The car wash? One of your many brilliant ideas that turned out not to be quite as brilliant as you thought it would. You need to wake up and make me laugh. I had a crappy weekend. Sure, not as crappy as yours, but still.” I squeezed his arm, then dropped my hand to my lap. “You’re going to be fine. Lisa is here too. She came to see you. But she’s not your cousin like I am, so . . .” I sighed. “Jokes aren’t as funny to tell when you can’t hear them.”
It was nice to see him, to hear the beeps that represented his heartbeat, see his chest rise and fall, even though I knew a machine was making that happen. He was alive, and I was grateful for that.
When we walked back into the waiting room, Lisa attached her arm to mine and didn’t let go. Jeff’s mom hugged me and whispered, “Come back soon, please.”
“I don’t want to take family time,” I said.
“No, please.” She squeezed my shoulders a little too intensely. “Let me get your phone number so I can give you updates.”
We exchanged numbers, and I said, “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
Lisa tugged me away and we were silent as we walked to the car. It wasn’t until we were inside with the doors shut and the engine running that she said, “How was Jeff?”
“I don’t know. Okay, I guess. I mean, he’s in the ICU, so I’m sure there’s a lot of internal stuff going on, but he looked like he could get up and walk out of there if he wanted to.”
“Are you okay?”
I was wondering the same thing, waiting for the tears I’d been holding back to finally come. I kept them in even though my throat and chest hurt. “I think so.”
Lisa nodded and looked over her shoulder to back out of the parking space. When we were on the road, driving toward my house, she said, “That was weird that his mom made you go in there. Like you possess some sort of healing power.”
“I know. Really weird.”
“When are you going back?”
“I don’t know. This week sometime. I need to be there for him . . . and maybe his mom, too.” I sighed. “I feel guilty.”
“What? Why?”
“The same reason you felt guilty when you thought I was in the car with him.”
“Him being there is not your fault.”
I put both my feet up on her dashboard, hugging my knees to my chest. “If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have been in the canyon that day. I feel guilty that he might have gone over that cliff thinking that I hadn’t wanted to see him at the bonfire. That I’d gone home instead.”
“Autumn, you got locked in a library. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not, but I can be there for him now.”
Lisa smiled. “Maybe you really can help him. His mom acted like you were the love of his life.” She shoved my shoulder. “He must’ve talked about you a lot.”
My cheeks went hot and I hid my face against my knees. “Shut up.”
She laughed. “You love it. Autumn and Jeff. It’s so happening.”
An image flashed into my mind, not one of Jeff healed and walking out of that hospital with me, but one of Dax’s eyes, staring at me across the library. I pushed it out. “Yes, it is happening.” It would happen. It had always been what I wanted.
CHAPTER 21
If I could just talk to Dax and make sure he was okay, maybe my mind would stop thinking about him when it wasn’t supposed to. Plus, we were friends now and I was worried about him. I wanted him to sit with us for lunch, hang out with my friends, not be alone. I wasn’t sure he’d get along with my friends, but it was worth a try. I couldn’t find him anywhere at school, though. It was like he had this superpower to vanish off the face of the earth whenever he wanted to.
At lunch, I scanned the cafeteria as I sat with my friends. Not that I’d ever seen Dax there before, but it was worth a look. He wasn’t exactly predictable.
Dallin was making a party-planning list. “What are other foods that remind you of the undead?” he asked.
Lisa held up a carrot stick. “These are sort of undead-like. Fingers or something.”
“I meant good food,” Dallin said.
Avi snatched Lisa’s carrot stick and took a bite. “I heard some girl in my English class talking about this party. How many people did you invite?”
“How many people didn’t I invite is the question.”
The idea of being surrounded by mostly strangers with loud music in a crowded house made my insides tense. “Dallin. I don’t want a party.”
“Well, that’s all well and good, but that’s past decided. I need your input on food now.”
“This sounds like a lot of effort,” Zach said. “Can’t we just bring whatever and call it good?”
Dallin pointed at him. “Yes, I like this plan better.”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “Are your parents cool with this?”
“Yes, I told them I was doing it to celebrate Autumn’s return, and they were fine.”
“Don’t use me as an excuse to throw a party,” I said.
He laughed. “I will use any excuse I can think of.”
“When is this thing, anyway?”
“Saturday. So you better be there or my parents will think I lied.”
“Ugh.” I shoved his arm.
Avi laughed. “I have that emotion ten times a day in regard to Dallin.”
The bell rang. I scooped my lunch trash into my brown paper bag and headed for the trash can. “You’re dead to me,” I said to him as I went.
“You’re undead to me, baby.”
Lisa jumped up to join me and we headed toward Government together.
“Has he been to the hospital?” I asked.
“Dallin?”
“Yes.”
“I think so.”
“Is he in denial about Jeff or overly optimistic?”
“I think this is just the way he’s dealing with it.”
I stepped over a lunch tray that was left on the floor by the exit. “Yeah, probably.”
“But is there a reason you’re not optimistic about Jeff’s recovery?”
Because Mrs. Matson said he was in a medically induced coma. That meant the doctors were worried, didn’t it? But how would it help my friends to know that? “No. He’ll be fine. I just don’t feel like throwing a party right now.”
“We have to celebrate the little things, right?”
I smiled. “My return from the dead is now a little thing?”
She laughed. “So small. I mean, come on, you were only locked in the library.”
I smiled and hip-checked her. I could suck up my reservations and let my friends throw a party. Maybe it was just what they all needed. Some hope.
The laundry was stacked in piles on the coffee table when I came through the front door after school. I grabbed the two piles that were mine and headed for my room to drop them off.
“Autumn,” my dad said, cutting me off in the hall, holding another basket of laundry.
“Oh, hi. I wanted to ask if I could go to the hospital again today.”
“Weren’t you just there yesterday?”
“Yes, but . . .” I paused when I saw that he was holding Dax’s swea
tshirt.
He must’ve seen my gaze because he said, “Is this yours?”
I went with the lie I’d already started on Lisa. “I found it in the lost and found at the library. It was cold in there. I’ll just take it.” I grabbed it from him but he didn’t relinquish it right away.
“Maybe we should return it.”
“I can do that,” I said, finally tugging it free. I draped it over my arm and continued walking with the two stacks I already had.
“I thought maybe it was that boy’s,” he said.
I came to an abrupt stop and turned around quickly, the sweatshirt slipping off my arm and falling in a heap at my feet. “What boy?”
“The one the doctor said was with you when the paramedics arrived.”
I was stunned silent.
“Maybe he heard the alarm too,” my dad said. “Was able to get into the library somehow to help you. I didn’t get all the details. But I think the police got his info.”
“Police?”
He chuckled a little. “You really were out of it, weren’t you?” He ran a hand along my cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay now. I’d like to thank that boy and get more details. Maybe I’ll call and find out how.”
Maybe I’d call and find out how too. Dax could avoid me at school, but he wouldn’t be able to avoid me if I showed up on his doorstep.
It had taken a couple of phone calls but I’d finally been able to talk a police officer into telling me the address Dax had given them. I now stood on the porch at his house wiping my palms, which were starting to sweat, on my jeans.
The door opened with a squeak, and a woman not much older than thirty answered. Her hair was multicolored and she wore an oversize T-shirt and jeans. “Can I help you?”
“Hi. Is Dax here?”
“Is he in some sort of trouble?”
“No, I just want to talk to him.”
Her eyes traveled the length of me. “He doesn’t live here anymore.”
My mouth opened, then shut again. “What? Where does he live?”
“Who are you?”
I shifted on my feet and put on a smile even though I didn’t have the best feelings for this woman. “A friend. I have some of his things.”