I kept my head down, busily scanning his creative writing piece for errors. “Yep—it is.”
“Do you want to go?”
I frowned. “Mmmm—haven’t thought about it.”
“What?”
I lifted my head at the tone in Jason’s voice and was surprised to see that his face looked—well, surprised—at my response. “Well, no one’s asked me, and I don’t know that anyone will, so there’s really no point in thinking about it.” Although Kent or Lear could possibly ask me. But I kept that thought to myself.
“Wait—no—Kathy, I don’t think you understand—”
“Understand what?”
Jason took a deep breath and looked me straight in the eye. “When I asked—just now—if you wanted to go, I was wondering if—you know—you’d like to go. With me.”
I could feel my insides tighten up into a knot as flashbacks of his last dance invitation and the painful results blazed their way through my brain. How stupid did he think I was? “You’re joking, right?”
He actually looked baffled at my response. “Joking? What are you talking about?”
I shook my head and tossed his paper back to him. “This—dance invite. Did you think I’d be stupid enough to fall for that again?”
“Fall for what again?”
I laughed bitterly. “Like you don’t know! I’m not about to agree to go to a dance with someone who’ll change his mind and take someone else at the last second. I’m not going to be made to look like an idiot again—you can count on that!”
Jason’s bafflement turned into an embarrassed scowl. “If I remember right, I did apologize for that. About a billion times—”
But I didn’t want to talk about that. It was too embarrassing and—painful. “Just stop messing with my mind, Jason,” I said irritably.
“What? All I wanted to do was ask you to the dance!”
“And why would you do that, when number one, you’ve already got a girlfriend—”
“Girlfriend?” Jason choked.
“—and number two—I don’t believe you have the guts to seriously ask me and then follow through and actually go to the dance with me.”
Jason’s mouth gaped open. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s easy enough to ask me here in your house, with no one knowing but you and me, but what happens when your friends find out? Or your girlfriend? You’d probably just deny you were ever serious. That you were just messing around. Like you did before,” I said hotly.
“First of all, I don’t have a girlfriend—”
“Oh, really? Then what was Angela? One of your groupies?”
Jason scowled and looked away. “I’m not with her anymore.”
He wasn’t? This was definitely news to me. “Why not?” I demanded.
Jason looked at me resolutely. “You can’t stay with someone when you’re always thinking about someone else.”
I couldn’t say anything before I somehow stuttered out, “Does she know—”
Jason raked his fingers through his hair nervously. “She got the picture when I made it clear I wanted to take someone else to the Christmas dance.”
I stared numbly at Jason, not sure whether I should dare to believe anything he was saying. And then, Jason slowly reached over and touched my fingers. I froze, staring at his hand against mine. In another second, he’d boldly taken hold of my entire hand.
“So, Kathy—how about it?” I almost didn’t hear him, between his soft whispering and the roar of blood rushing to my ears. This couldn’t be happening—things like this never happened to me—even though a lot of unreal things had been happening to me lately—
“I—I don’t know—I—”
I was in that hot zone of being so freaked out I was dangerously close to tears. In a flash, I was out of my chair and blindly running down the hall in the direction that should’ve led me straight to the front door, had I been coming from the family room. Instead, the direction I’d flown ended abruptly above the stairs leading to the basement. I quickly grasped the banister to keep from plunging over the edge. I could hear Jason calling “Kathy!” before I heard grumbling mixed with the unmistakable sounds of his roughly getting himself off the couch and onto his crutches. I couldn’t deal with him and more talk of the Christmas dance, so with no other form of escape available, I hurried down the stairs. I only turned when I heard him say “Kathy!” again. He was balanced on his crutches at the top of the stairs, looking at me in such an exasperated, bewildered manner that I could feel anger rising. How dare he look at me as if I had no reason to freak out!
“Kathy, please come back up here—”
“No!”
Jason looked at me in disbelief for a long second. “No? Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to!”
Jason shook his head. “I can’t believe this. You know, never in a million years would I have thought you’d react this way if I asked you out!”
I could feel the anger rising higher at that remark. “Oh, really? And what did you think I’d do? Cry tears of joy and kiss your feet in gratitude for asking me—again? Or better yet—that I’d faint dead away at having my ultimate dream come true?”
It took Jason a second to recover from my response before he shot back with, “I guess I’m just used to most girls being happy to get asked out by me—that’s all!”
“Oh, I’m sure you are! I’m sorry to have to disappoint you, but I’m not most girls!”
Jason let out an exasperated gasp before yelling, “Kathy!”
“I don’t want to talk anymore. And lucky for me, you can’t crutch on down here, so just—leave me alone!”
Tell Jason there’s something he can’t do? Definitely the wrong thing for me to have said. Jason’s look quickly hardened into that picking-up-the-gauntlet face he had—the one he wore under his football helmet before starting a play on the field. With an “oh, yeah?” he clenched his hands tightly around the crutches’ handgrips on either side of him, and a second later, he’d carefully made it down the first stair. And then the next one, and the next—
I stepped backward a few paces, nervously watching his circus tightrope-type progress. “Jason—stop—you shouldn’t be doing this! You’re going to fall, I just know it!” Panic was rising from my stomach into my throat, snuffing out any remaining flickers of anger. Jason ignored me and continued to carefully make his way down the stairs. I could tell by his look of concentration that it wasn’t easy, but by the time he had only a few stairs to go, his look changed to one of confidence and he lifted his head to grin at me. “See, Kathy? This is nothing”—right before his crutches became lodged awkwardly on the step. A second later, he was high-centered on them, and while he yelled “Whoa!” and I screamed, he fell face forward and crashed down the remaining few steps to land in a miserable heap at the bottom of the stairs.
“Jason!” I ran forward and quickly untangled his crutches from his legs and arms while he lay on his stomach groaning. My heart pounded while I frantically wondered how badly he’d hurt his knee. And it’s all my fault—all my stupid fault because of my dumb pride—
I threw his crutches away from him while he slowly turned over onto his left side, leaning on his good leg with his head on his arm. His eyes were shut, and his face was twisted in pain. My heart leaped even higher. I fell to my knees, leaning over him.
“Jason—how bad does your knee hurt? Do you think anything ripped? I’ll go get Adam—you need someone stronger than me to help you get up—” I was so scared I couldn’t stop babbling, knowing he’d ruined his knee for good, thanks to me.
Jason didn’t respond, but when I moved from crouching over him to get help, he reached out fast and grabbed my arm and yanked me back down on my knees beside him.
“No, I don’t want their help.” Jason’s face relaxed into a smile. “You’re worried about me, aren’t you?”
“Worried? You’re lying here in pain, thanks to me! Of course I’m worried!”
I
n another fast, fluid motion, Jason rolled onto his back, still clutching my arm, and in the next second, he had me by both upper arms, a few scant inches from his face.
Jason laughed softly. “I’m not in that much pain, Kathy.”
My heart pounded even harder. And faster. “No?” I managed to gasp.
Jason drew me even closer to him. “You care about me, don’t you?”
“How do you know that?” My lips were practically touching his now—
“Because I care about you, too.”
A second later, his mouth had softly touched mine. I couldn’t believe this was happening. My mind was spinning, and my heart was pounding. I quickly pulled away and scrambled to my feet, trembling all over, while Jason stared up at me with eyes so intense and dark blue they looked black. I tried to say I’d better go get some help and then ran up the stairs as if I was being chased. It wasn’t until I got home that my shock began to wear off to let reality settle in. Jason had kissed me. Jason had kissed me! And then I’d realized something else. I’d kissed him back.
The whole afternoon marked the end and the beginning of something. I ran into the house and into my room after leaving Jason’s. There I replayed everything that had led to the kiss. And then I relived that kiss a million times over and over in my brain. I hadn’t seen Jason since. He’d had a doctor appointment for his knee the following morning, and then his family went out of town for Thanksgiving. I was alternately dreading and wishing for Monday to come. But during Thanksgiving dinner and after we all moved into the living room for pumpkin pie, I continued to replay Tuesday afternoon and that kiss, over and over. And apparently with a tiny smile that let everyone know I wasn’t smiling at any of them.
“So, Kathy, what do you think?”
I walked slowly over to where a few new photos in gold frames had been added to our family collection. One frame held a picture of me dressed in white as Cordelia trying to reason with an angry King Lear. Another frame held a picture of just me dressed in my red Juliet dress and cap sitting on my table-bed, staring solemnly at my sleeping potion.
“Aren’t they great? Sam took the photos. And picked the frames up yesterday,” Mom said, giving my shoulders a squeeze.
I was stunned. The pictures were amazing. Anyone would think a professional photographer had taken them.
“Wow—Sam—” I turned to Sam to thank her, but she quickly caught me in a hug and whispered in my ear, “Wait ’til you see the one in your room!” The second I could sneak away, I casually walked down the hall before running into my room to find in a gold heart frame another picture from the Shakespeare festival. The photo was one of Jason and me together, with me in my Juliet costume and Jason balanced on his crutches. If I felt embarrassed at how adoringly I was looking up at him, I was comforted by the fact that he was smiling down at me in a pretty enthralled way. Sam had put a stickie note on it with hearts that said, “You like?!” and although I was embarrassed she’d caught such a moment, I was happily and gratefully surprised that she’d chosen to leave it in my room for my eyes only. It was very un-Sam-like. But then, I’d become pretty un-Kathy-like myself.
~
February 5
Dear Kitty,
I definitely need to make some New Year’s resolutions. You’ve inspired me more than you know, since you’ve already reached a few goals of your own, and it’s only February! You have no problem walking at all anymore. In fact, you’re running everywhere—I don’t think I could keep up with you even if I wasn’t sick and puking all the time! You’re also learning more and more words. It’s getting easier to figure out what you want, which is a plus! And you’re showing an interest in moving on from diapers—another plus! So since you’re already working on your goals for the year, I know I need to try and set a few of my own.
You still love the bear I gave you for Christmas. In fact, you sleep with it every night. I’ve been trying to teach you how to say “teddy” and “bear,” but all you say back is “tiny.” I can’t believe how much you love that bear. Even though you have so many other toys, Tiny is it for you. I’m actually starting to get jealous of a stuffed animal!
Sometimes at night to make you fall asleep, I put you in bed with me and I read you stories. Usually with the Beatles playing in the background. Once you’re asleep, I watch you for a while before I put you back in your crib. This is the kind of moment I wish could last forever . . .
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Decided to come up for air, I see.”
I’d barely entered the living room the afternoon following Thanksgiving Day when Dad looked up from the book he’d
been reading. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dad shrugged and continued to study me over the top of his book. “Just that you’ve been hibernating in your room a lot lately.”
“Lots of teenagers ‘hibernate.’ It’s not unusual.”
“True. But you’ve been spending a lot of time alone in your room. Even for a teenager.”
I rolled my eyes. “I do get out once in a while. And I’ve been busy with drama and tutoring and everything.”
Dad nodded again without showing any signs of retreat. “True again. But we haven’t seen your friends around in a while. Don’t you like spending time with them anymore?”
I shrugged and leaned against the bookshelves. “I’ve been busy.”
“And when you are home and not in your room, you’re off in some other world. Or you’re being unusually nice to everyone.”
I rolled my eyes again. “I’ve already had this conversation. With Mom.”
Dad sighed and set his book aside. “Well, you can’t blame us. We’re your parents, so we worry about you.” Then he sat up to lean towards me with his serious, concerned look. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about? Anything at all?”
I hesitated before raising an eyebrow at his overly hopeful face. “Well, there is one thing I’ve been wondering about lately.”
“Yes?” Dad said hopefully.
I looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment before I blurted out, “Dad, whatever happened to my Tiny Bear?”
Dad raised his eyebrows in baffled surprise. “Tiny Bear? I can’t believe you even remember him.”
I grinned and plopped down near him on the couch. “Well, I don’t know if I do. That’s why I want to see him again.”
Dad took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Well, that’s going to be difficult to do, since he was probably thrown out.”
My favorite toy when I was little? “Thrown out? When?”
Dad looked uncomfortable as he reached to snatch up his book again and thumb quickly for his place in it. “Oh, I don’t know. Years ago, I’m sure.”
“Don’t we have any pictures of him? Of Tiny Bear and me? Together?”
Dad glanced briefly at me before turning back to his book with a frown. “Not that I know of. Why all this interest in an old stuffed animal?”
I shrugged my shoulders and looked away. “I don’t know. I guess I just miss him.”
Dad studied me for a few moments over the top of his book. “Yeah, you really did love that funny old bear.” He waited for me to say more, but I couldn’t. Especially when I realized I hadn’t been thinking about an old stuffed animal at all.
~
March 5
Dear Kitty,
Spring term just started, and Dr. Grenville said I’m strong enough to go back to school. Mom and Dad didn’t want to let me go, but I won them over with my amazing charm. I kept out of Kelly’s way, and although he stayed out of mine, I could feel his stare all day. It was almost creepy. Now I think I’m going to have to get him a Sherlock Holmes spy glass and pipe for Christmas this year.
I had to crash after school. Pretending you’re fine and that everything’s okay is hard work. Later, I had to go see Dr. Grenville. I don’t think things are looking too good for me. I wouldn’t let him talk too much about my slim chance of going into a second remission, though. Since
I can’t decide much for myself lately, I’ve definitely decided that I’ll be the one to say when I’m going to die . . .
April 8
Dear Kitty,
You’ve now experienced your first real Easter, and for the first time in my life, I think I did, too. I felt sick on Easter Sunday, so I took it easy and stayed in bed most of the day. Sam’s home for Easter break, so later that afternoon, Alex and Sam took you outside to find Easter eggs. I watched you trotting around with your Easter basket looking for eggs, holding Tiny Bear by one leg as you dragged him around the yard, while the scary-looking pink rabbit the good ol’ Easter bunny brought for you lay ignored on the living room floor.
While I was lounging on the couch, I kept myself busy watching TV and listened to some preacher talking all about Christ and how He died to save us all. I caught a few of the verses he was talking about and looked them up like I’ve done before and ended up reading more than I meant to. I bored Alex with a bunch of stuff I’d read and told him that if what the Bible says is true, then because of Him, we can be saved and we can live again, after we’ve died. I asked Alex what he thought about that. Of course, Alex just looked at me as if I had three heads and said something stupid and completely off the point. I guess he was surprised I was thinking religious thoughts at all, although he shouldn’t have been. Even though I’ve never talked about religion with Alex, he’s seen the Bible and Kelly’s Mormon Bible in my room often enough. And considering the fact that I’m shaking hands with death on a regular basis these days, I don’t think he should be surprised at all. I don’t know—it’s just hard not having anyone to talk with about it. Intelligently. Believe it or not, Kitty, I’m really missing being able to talk about this kind of stuff with Kelly.
No, you’re right, Kitty. I just really miss having Kelly around. Period.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
As Mom and Dad both continued to notice, I had been spending a lot of time alone, and I knew it. Since my birthday, to be exact. Especially on Saturdays. Reading, mostly. And listening to the Beatles. Thanksgiving break was no exception. That is, until Mom dragged me out of my room, thrust a dust rag into my hand, and pointed me towards the living room.
The Secret Journal of Brett Colton Page 21