By Your Side

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By Your Side Page 16

by Kasie West


  “In a couple hours. You’re doing good. Down to twice a day.”

  He nodded.

  “Autumn is here.”

  “Hi,” I said, and his eyes were immediately on me.

  “Mom. That’s the kind of thing you lead with,” he said. “Now she thinks I’m an addict.”

  “She doesn’t think you’re an addict.”

  “No, I do,” I said.

  He tried to laugh but it came out as a cough.

  “Come and sit,” he said, pointing to the chair.

  “Are you sure? You seem tired.”

  “I’m bored. And since I can’t have pain meds . . .”

  His mom squeezed my arm on her way toward the door. “Not too long. He really does need his rest,” she said in a low voice.

  “I didn’t lose my hearing, Mom,” he said.

  Mrs. Matson sighed and shook her head, but there was so much joy in her eyes.

  I lowered myself to the chair by his bed. “How are you?”

  “Pretty good. Did you see my cool new scar?”

  My eyes went to his forehead and the pink line there that would forever remind him of this accident. “I did. I spent several days checking it out.”

  “I heard you’ve been here. Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  He may have thought he could handle a long conversation but his speech was thick and eyes were already becoming lidded.

  “You need to sleep.”

  “No, I’m fine. Tell me everything I missed in the last couple weeks.”

  “Not much. A basketball game. A party.” Dallin accusing me of putting you in the hospital.

  “Sounds fun.” His blinks were becoming slower, longer.

  “You’re going to fall asleep on me.”

  “I am,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Please don’t be. I’ll come back.”

  “Come tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow is Dallin’s day.” The only day I didn’t want to risk showing my face here.

  He reached for my hand and I provided it for him. “Come tomorrow,” he said like he hadn’t heard me.

  “Okay.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  He nodded, but his eyes were already closed.

  I left the hospital room with a smile. Jeff was awake. My life was now back on my previously planned course.

  CHAPTER 35

  I was stuck in traffic outside of Salt Lake. It was only 3:45. I thought I’d miss after-work traffic, but it was going to turn my forty-five-minute drive into an hour for sure. I rubbed my neck. That’s when I remembered Dax and the meeting I’d set up with him. Four o’clock at the park by my house. I’d totally forgotten with the news about Jeff wanting to talk to me. Why didn’t Dax have a working phone I could call? I was a horrible person.

  No, it would be fine.

  Dax wouldn’t be there. I’d seen that in his eyes earlier. He wasn’t going to come. How would he get there anyway, even if he had wanted to? He had no car and didn’t know how to drive.

  My dashboard clock said five thirty by the time I made it to my neighborhood. It turned out the traffic wasn’t work related at all; there’d been a big accident. I’d called my parents and let them know where I was and that I’d be later than I thought.

  I slowed down as I drove by the park, just to make sure. At first I thought I was right and relaxed back into my seat, but then I saw a lone figure in a dark coat sitting on a bench by the swings. I gasped and pulled against the curb, shutting off my engine. He came?

  The park was empty as I walked toward him—too late for the kids who normally occupied it. Dax was reading, lit by the glow of the streetlamp, and an image of him in the library came back to me so strongly that I had to stop for a moment. I shook it off.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  He looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine. He didn’t seem upset. “Hey.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Like how did I come to exist or . . . ?”

  “Funny.” I sat down next to him on the bench and he closed his book—still Hamlet—and set it beside him. “Did someone bring you?”

  “I took the bus.”

  “You took the bus for me?”

  “I take the bus for everything, so don’t analyze it too much.”

  “Too late, I’ve already analyzed it.”

  “What have you figured out?”

  “That I promised to teach you how to drive. I should’ve made it a rule.”

  “You and your rules.”

  We met eyes then, seeming to both remember the rules I’d made before: no attachments, no kissing. We were still good on both fronts. His gaze hadn’t left mine. Weren’t we?

  “How is Jeff?”

  I blinked, looking away from his intense stare. “What?”

  “That’s where you were, right? At the hospital.”

  I nodded. “Jeff’s mom texted me last second and I had to go. He was asking for me.”

  Dax’s shoulders went tense, but he said, “That’s good.”

  I tried to figure out why Dax might not like that news. Why was he saying the opposite of what he was feeling? “He’s still in pain, I guess. And will probably have to do physical therapy. So it will be a while before he goes home.”

  “Are you spelling out how much longer you need me around?”

  “I . . . no. We’re friends, right? You can . . .”

  He gave a breathy laugh, stopping me short. “It was a joke.”

  “Oh right.” I leaned back against the bench. “But anyway, I was going to stay away from the hospital tomorrow, because it’s Dallin’s day.”

  “Dallin . . . the guy who blamed Jeff’s accident on you.”

  “Right. I wanted to give him his time, but Jeff asked me to come. Made me promise. So I feel like I have to.”

  He leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, and seemed to think. After a minute he said, “So you’re trying to deal with anxiety by acting like you don’t have it.”

  “What?”

  “You know the hospital will stress you out tomorrow, especially with Dallin there.”

  “Yes.”

  “But instead of staying home for your own mental health, you’re going to go there because someone else is expecting it.”

  “I can’t stop living life.”

  “It’s not something you want to do. You’re worrying about someone else’s emotions instead of your own.”

  “Either I’d be sitting at home worrying about Jeff wondering why I wasn’t there or I’d be at the hospital worrying about Dallin being mad at me for being there.”

  “Because you haven’t told them. If you told them you had an anxiety disorder, they wouldn’t wonder when you didn’t show up for things or had to leave things early. And you wouldn’t worry about them. They’d understand. They’d feel better and you’d feel better.” He held up his hands and shook his head, like he was mad at himself for something. “You know what? Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

  I let out a frustrated breath. “No. You’re right. I’ll tell them.”

  “Now you’re just saying that because you think I’m mad.”

  “Are you?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Autumn.” He put his hands on my cheeks. His hands were freezing. “Figure out what you think.” His eyes went back and forth between mine. My temperature seemed to rise a couple degrees. “Figure out what you want,” he said again, softer.

  And then he was standing and walking away, and I just sat there and let him, not even offering him a ride. Maybe we both needed some space anyway. So we could follow the rules.

  I pulled my knees up onto the bench with me, his words swirling in my mind. What he’d said made sense. I thought back to all the times even in the last couple of months when I went places to please others despite what I knew it would do to me—basketball games and parties and maybe even hospitals. It’s not like I wanted to stop doing those things altoget
her, but I needed to read my own emotions better, not leave things after I freaked out but before. Stay healthy. But I didn’t need to tell my friends about my anxiety in order to do that. I just needed to be better about standing up for myself. About not doing things I didn’t want to do.

  I slid my legs down to the floor and went to stand up when I saw Dax’s book still sitting on the bench. He was long gone. I’d just give it to him at school the next day. I opened it up, curious, and sure enough the letter was still there. I read over the address again. Salt Lake. His mom lived that close and he hadn’t seen her in years?

  I pulled up the map app on my phone and entered her address into it. Fifty minutes away. I clicked the screen off and studied the envelope again. The return address was an unfamiliar one. Of course not his current address, but not the previous one either. I wondered how many times he’d had to move. How many families he’d had to live with.

  The porch light was on and glowing a warm yellow as I headed up my front walkway. It looked so inviting. My home. I opened the door to the sounds of my family in the kitchen, laughing, dishes clinking. I shut the door behind me and went to join them. I stopped short, watching as my mom and brother stood around the island, picking at the leftover lasagna on the counter while my dad did the dishes.

  “Let’s make cookies,” my brother said.

  “You’ll just eat all the cookie dough,” my mom responded.

  “And?”

  “I want to eat all the cookie dough too,” I said.

  They all looked up. My brother spoke first. “It’s about time you’re home. Get in here and spend some quality time with me.”

  “So demanding.” I set Dax’s book on the counter and went to join them at the island. I pulled a fork out of the utensil drawer and dug into the leftover lasagna.

  “How about a plate?” my mom said.

  “There’s salad too. It’s in the fridge.” Before I’d finished my bite of food, my dad was holding a gallon Ziploc of salad and my mom had a plate in her hand.

  “Thanks.” I took both and spent the next thirty minutes fielding questions about Jeff while we made cookies.

  CHAPTER 36

  If I hadn’t promised Jeff, I wouldn’t have been sitting in my car in the parking lot of the hospital trying to outlast Dallin. He’d been in there for at least an hour already. I could see his car parked two rows away from mine. I didn’t want to take over his time. So I waited. This would keep me from a potentially anxiety-inducing confrontation. It was a good compromise, I thought.

  It took him another forty-three minutes before he finally walked through the sliding glass doors and into the parking lot. I waited until he got into his car and drove away, then I went inside.

  Mrs. Matson was in Jeff’s room and Jeff was talking to her. I smiled. It was good to see him a little more coherent.

  “Hello!” Mrs. Matson said when she saw me.

  Jeff smiled. “Hey.”

  “Hi. You’re awake.”

  “I’m on the front hours of my drugs instead of the last hours like yesterday. It helps.”

  I laughed.

  He shifted in his bed, turning more toward me, and cringed. Drugs or not, he was obviously still in pain.

  Mrs. Matson stood. “Here, have my seat. Dallin went to rescue my husband from up the street. He ran out of gas.”

  “Oh. He’s coming back.”

  “It will be a party,” Jeff said.

  “Don’t get too worked up,” Mrs. Matson said. “I don’t want the nurse yelling at you.”

  “I won’t, Mom.”

  She left us alone and I sank slowly into the chair by his bed. I looked at Jeff, trying to read his expression. Had Dallin said anything about me? About what he’d accused me of the other day? Jeff seemed relaxed, happy, like he always did. He rarely had a different expression. I couldn’t read Jeff very well. Hopefully, like me, Dallin didn’t want to do anything that might upset him right now, while his body was still recovering.

  “Hi,” I said again.

  He leaned back against the pillows.

  “Any news on when you’ll get out of here?”

  “I guess when my oxygen level is better and I’ve proven I can walk.”

  “Can you?”

  “I don’t know. I start physical therapy tomorrow.”

  “Lucky you.”

  He twisted the tube hanging down by his arm once around his finger. “I can’t wait to get out of here. We need to have an epic adventure as soon as possible. I was thinking tubing, but instead of sliding down the snow in tubes we go to the car graveyard and find old car parts to use, like a hood or a backseat. Tell me that wouldn’t be fun.”

  That didn’t sound like fun at all to me. My heart jumped just thinking about it. “Only if there’s still snow when you’re all better. Maybe we’ll have to do that next year.”

  “It’s happening this year.”

  The door creaked open.

  Jeff lowered his voice and quickly whispered, “Play along with me for a sec.”

  I was confused.

  Dallin walked in. “Dude, your dad does not know how to fill a jug of gas. He—” Dallin stopped immediately when he saw me there.

  “He what?” Jeff asked.

  “Nothing. He just couldn’t.”

  “I’m glad you saved him. Should we think of a superhero name for you?”

  “I already have one.”

  Jeff’s face went from smiling to worried as he stared toward the foot of his bed.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I . . . I can’t feel my toes. Or my feet for that matter.”

  “What?” I stood, wondering if I should get the nurse when Jeff winked at me. Oh, was this what he meant earlier? I was supposed to play along with this?

  He poked at his thigh. “I can’t feel this either.”

  Dallin walked closer, concern in his eyes. I didn’t think this was going to help our relationship right now.

  He touched Jeff’s foot. “Can you feel that?”

  “Jeff,” I said. “Not a good idea.”

  “No, I can’t.” Jeff picked up a pen from the table by his bed. “Autumn, stab my leg with this. Not hard, but enough to break the surface.”

  I rolled my eyes. He just went one step too far with this prank. Dallin would never believe that.

  “Funny,” I said, ready to clue Dallin in. “I’m not going to stab your leg with a pen.”

  Dallin stepped forward and swiped the pen out of Jeff’s hand. “I’ll do it.” And before I could blink, he swung his arm, pen and all, down onto Jeff’s leg.

  I screamed, throwing my hands over my mouth in shock. My eyes shot up to Jeff’s face expecting to see pain, but there was only a big smile. Then he laughed. Then he coughed.

  “We totally got you,” he said. Dallin laughed as well.

  “You guys are punks,” I said, my heart still racing. I leaned against the table, trying to catch my breath.

  “Why are you freaking out? It was a joke,” Dallin said.

  “I’m not. I . . .”

  Jeff cringed through more coughing, his hand going to his side. He was clearly not well enough to do stupid stuff like that.

  “Jeff, don’t get too worked up,” I said.

  “I know, I know.”

  I sighed. I needed to leave. “I better get going.”

  “Autumn, it was all in good fun,” Jeff said.

  “I know. I’m not mad.” Well, I sort of was. “But you need your rest.” And I did too.

  “You’ll come back, right?”

  “Yes. It’s obvious you’re getting bored in here.”

  “Mind-numbingly.”

  “Have a fun visit, Dallin,” I said, but he just took over my seat without responding. Guess the prank hadn’t improved anything between us. He was being such a baby, and I wanted to call him out on it, but not in front of Jeff. I had hoped that once Jeff started improving, Dallin would too, but that had obviously been too much to hope for.

&nbs
p; CHAPTER 37

  The tile floor was very white in the hospital and I wondered how they kept it clean with all the traffic. After leaving Jeff’s room, I walked down two hallways, counting a hundred of those tiles until my nerves settled. I was thinking about different cleaning products they might have to use when a pair of feet stepped into my line of vision. I looked up and gasped.

  “Dax? What are you doing here?” I glanced over my shoulder to see if we had an audience. When I saw we didn’t, I hugged him, which did more to relax me than counting all hundred floor tiles had.

  “Thought you might need your distraction,” he said, hugging me back.

  I laughed but then realized even with the smirk on his face that he was serious. “Wait, you’re not visiting someone? You’re really here for me?”

  “You talked about promises and best friends fighting and you visiting on your off day—I don’t know. I was hardly listening, but I sensed stress in your future.”

  He really came here for me. I was beyond shocked. “Hardly listening? Really? It sounds like you were listening perfectly.”

  “Don’t get used to it.” He stared down at me.

  I hugged him again but quickly pulled away when I heard footsteps. Dallin walked by us, meeting my eyes and raising his eyebrows. He muttered nice under his breath and kept walking.

  “Dallin,” I called after him, “do you know Dax? He goes to our school. He volunteers at the hospital.”

  He half turned, gave a salute, and kept walking.

  “Is this the boyfriend’s best friend that hates your guts?”

  “Yep.”

  He was silent for three beats, then said, “Did this help?”

  I laughed without humor.

  Still staring after Dallin, Dax said, “Volunteers at the hospital? You probably should’ve gone with mandatory community service. It might’ve been more believable.”

  “Not true.”

  “Do you want me to go threaten him to stay quiet about my philanthropic side?”

  “No.”

  “Can we get out of here, then?”

  I hesitated, wondered if I should go and tell Jeff about this before Dallin did. Downplay it. Or maybe a bigger downplay would be not to mention it at all and act like it was no big deal if Jeff brought it up.

 

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