“If you’re just going to hang around here, you might as well do something useful.”
I’d been mindlessly picking up picture after picture, giving each the once-over with the dust rag. I was about to set the one in my hand back on the bookshelf, but I couldn’t stop staring at the three in the picture with their arms around each other’s shoulders in sweaty football uniforms, their faces frozen into laughing smiles forever.
“Kelly,” I said out loud. I tapped the handsome blond’s face with the tip of one finger over and over. He was gorgeous like Jason. Only a different, blond sort of gorgeous. I’d looked at this picture many times, never giving Kelly more than idle curiosity-type thoughts. But now—now I couldn’t stop wondering about him. After a few more seconds of staring, I carefully replaced the picture on its shelf and casually approached Mom in the kitchen.
“Mom, whatever happened to Kelly Baxter?” I leaned on the counter and looked at her face out of the corner of my eye to catch her reaction. Mom was concentrating so deeply on the chicken she was cleaning that I jumped when her head jerked up sharply.
“Kelly Baxter?”
“Yeah. He was one of Alex and Brett’s friends, wasn’t he?”
Mom shrugged and dug back into the chicken’s insides with a vicious fervor, causing her locket to bounce against her chest. “Yes, but he was more Brett’s friend than Alex’s.”
“Is that why we never see him anymore? Because he was Brett’s friend?” I persisted.
Mom shrugged again. “I guess that’s part of it. And people grow apart as they get older. I don’t know—” Mom stopped torturing the chicken to eye me curiously. “Why do you want to know about Kelly Baxter?”
I shrugged nervously. “I don’t know. I was just wondering whatever happened to him.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I really don’t know. Honey, will you wash your hands and come help me with dinner? I’m having the darndest time with this chicken.”
Mom wasn’t about to delve into the subject of Kelly any further. And not because of the chicken. That fact made questions run in circles in my head, but I bit my lip and walked over to the sink. I sighed and stared out the window while the warm tap water ran down my hands. It was strange to realize I’d never truly met Kelly, and yet, I knew things about him. At least, the teenage version of him. And I wondered if he knew we had a picture of him on our bookshelf—a picture that had sat there for years, even though no one wanted to talk about him. And I wondered if he ever thought about Brett anymore. Or about my family. Or even about me.
~
April 20
Dear Kitty,
I don’t think Dad can handle my sickness. He’s been working late at the office practically every night ever since I got sick, and when he is home, I feel like he’s purposely trying to avoid me. I’ve tried to talk about it with Mom, but she only says I never see him anymore because he has to work so much so we can pay the bills—meaning my hospital bills, of course—and that once he does get home, it’s late, and he’s too tired to do anything but go to bed. The funny thing is, I thought that was why Mom went back to work—to help pay for the bills so Dad wouldn’t have to work more hours. I guess leukemia is more expensive than I thought. It’s hard enough missing someone like Kelly—a good friend who doesn’t live in the same house with me—but I think it’s harder to miss someone who lives in the same house with you but might as well live on the whole other side of the world, for all the closeness you have with that person.
I’d been trying to talk to Mom about Dad and everything again today and at one point asked why Dad didn’t at least just come in and say good night to me when he got home. Mom could only say that he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. So instead, he says nothing at all to me. Isn’t that great, Kitty? Just great.
I had the dream again last night. You know the one. You were sixteen in the dream, like I am now. I yelled and yelled, trying to get you to look at me—hear me—but you stubbornly kept your back to me. Just when I was about to give up, you jumped—as if you’d felt something poke you in the back. And then you cautiously, carefully turned your head to look behind you, where I was! As if you’d heard me, somehow—finally! I guess the excitement was too much for me, because a second later I was awake yelling, “Kitty! Kitty!” out loud.
A second after that, a deep voice near my ear said, “Brett?” I nearly shot out of my skin. It was Dad—sitting in the dark in a chair pulled up close by my bed. His hand was in my hair, and he kept saying, “Kitty’s asleep—she’s fine—she’s okay.” I was so exhausted that I fell asleep before the strangeness of the moment—Dad being in my room and all—could fully sink in. You know how dreams are. Weird things seem perfectly normal. Having Dad in my room sitting by me, his hand in my hair and everything was so unreal that I convinced myself that that had just been a dream, too. I told Mom about it the next day while we gave you a bath. I don’t know what I expected Mom to say, but what she did say—really quietly, like she was admitting a secret—nearly knocked me over. She said, “Sometimes, once you’ve fallen asleep, I’ve caught him sitting by your bed just watching you—watching over you—while you sleep. I think he does that a lot more often than we know . . .”
May 3
Dear Kitty,
I’m not doing so good. After my last checkup and blood tests, Dr. Grenville put me back in the hospital. He told me about some other types of meds he wants to try me on, so now I’m doing a course of some new drugs, which means I’m out flat when I’m not puking up a storm.
And today I turned seventeen. I never would have believed I would ever spend a birthday in the hospital, but fate and life have a sick sense of humor. At least Mom, Dad, and Alex came and brought you with them. I was afraid you’d be scared to come near me, being laid out in this hospital bed with a ton of tubes sticking out all over me, but when you saw me, you said, “Up, up!” to Alex, and once he lifted you up, you reached your little arms out to me and hugged me and kissed me, saying, “Bet! Bet!” And then you snuggled down by me and wouldn’t move from my side. That made my birthday, Kitty. You’ll never know how much that made my whole day.
I’ve been thinking about you a lot. Even though I know I’m getting worse, I have to hang on to see you turn two. Dr. Grenville keeps telling me about what these amazing new drugs can do. Last ditch efforts, if you ask me.
I hope that somehow you know how much I love you. Those are three words that aren’t said very often in our family. Not near enough. I hope you won’t be like me and let much time go between saying those words to the important people in your life . . .
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
May 31
Dear Kitty,
I’ve been doing a lot of serious thinking, and after talking my decision over with Dr. Grenville, he’s finally decided to let me go through with it—and to let me go home! Yes! I can’t wait to be home! I miss you and everyone else so much. Except for on my birthday, the hospital gestapo hasn’t let you in to come see me. But I plastered my walls with your drawings. They’ve helped to make my days bearable. You’ve done about a million or so since I’ve been incarcerated in here! I’ve got a picture of us together in a frame by my bed—the one Kelly took of us in the park a while back. That’s helped me get through this craziness, and it’s given me something awesome to look forward to when I get the heck out of here! Those first few days in the hospital, I felt incredibly lonely, like there was only me and my sickness. But when I pray, I don’t feel so alone. I feel like God or Jesus or someone is with me all of the time . . .
~
I’d read a ton of Brett’s journal over Thanksgiving break, mostly to give my brain a rest from thinking about Jason, and as a result, I wasn’t surprised at all that I dreamt about Brett again Sunday night. In the dream, Brett again held his precious book out to me, pleading with me to understand and accept it. All I could convey back to him was that I had his journal—and I was reading it—every day! But his reaction remained the same, which was to shake his h
ead and then to disappear when my tears of frustration surfaced. And like I had done before, I woke up crying—and continued to cry until I couldn’t cry anymore.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
By Monday morning, I couldn’t decide if I was nervous or excited to go to school again. I had no idea how I should act around Jason. I mean, we’d kissed. Did that mean I should sit on his lap in English and insist that he hold my hand? Or pretend I was Cool and act as if nothing had happened at all? I had no idea. I’d never kissed anyone before, much less someone like Jason.
After picking up Mistie and Crystal for school in the cruddy car, I felt my heart hammering fast as we rounded the last corner and Central High flared into view. I was busy making sure I didn’t hit all the jaywalkers as I fought my way into the school parking lot, so when Mistie and Crystal screamed in unison, I was sure I’d run over something.
“What? What?!”
“The sign! Did you see it?!” Mistie shrieked in my ear.
“Sign? What sign?”
Crystal smacked me in the back of the head. “The school marquee in front of the building! Straight ahead, you dope! Look at it!”
When I did, my jaw crashed to the floor of the car—right onto the brakes, in fact, causing the car to screech and jerk enough to almost send poor Mistie flying through the windshield.
In big, bold, capital letters, the marquee had one message and one message only:
“Kathy Colton: Will U go 2 the X-mas Dance w/Jason West?”
“Can you believe it?! Kathy—can you believe it?” Mistie and Crystal both screamed.
I couldn’t. I honestly couldn’t. But the surprises didn’t end there. The next surprise occurred when Jason walked into Honors English. Actually walked. With just a sturdy-looking walking leg brace on his right leg. And without crutches. And early, no less. I was the only one in class when Jason casually made his entrance minus crutches into the classroom, beaming a huge smile as he walked over to sit on the desk in front of me.
“So—what do you think?”
“Congratulations! This is so great!”
Jason’s smile faded as he raised a confused eyebrow. “‘Congratulations’?”
I pointed at his brace before Jason grinned. “Oh yeah—that.”
“Yes, that! What did you think I meant?”
Jason’s grin fell again as he stared at me. “You haven’t seen it?”
I could feel myself blushing. “Oh—that. Yes, I’ve seen it. As I’m sure the whole school has by now!”
“And?” Jason persisted, leaning towards me with his hands braced on his knees.
“And, if these are the results I get for telling you that you don’t have the guts to do something, then I think I should tell you you’re gutless more often!” I laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, Kathy—”
Students began filing in with Mrs. Dubois on their heels, and with everyone fussing over Jason and his newly uncrutched leg, Jason was forced to take his seat so class could begin.
My happy surprises didn’t end there, though. In front of everyone, Jason joined Mistie and Crystal and me for lunch in the cafeteria. Mistie and Crystal had considerately, if not exactly discreetly, gathered up their stuff with huge grins on their faces once Jason sat down beside me and left us alone to eat lunch. And just because I was enjoying messing with Jason’s mind so much, I kept him in suspense about whether I would accept his amazingly public invitation to the dance—for which both of us had received a lot of attention and comments. I only hoped his had been as congratulatory as mine were, even though the fact that mine were congratulatory was somewhat insulting and offensive.
I was on a roll of the Midas Touch level when I went whistling into the house, which caused Mom to raise her eyebrows and ask questions about my day. Before I knew what I was doing, I blabbed the best part of my news to her in one excited breath. “Jason asked me to the Christmas dance—twice! On Wednesday during tutoring and then again at school today!”
Mom’s mouth dropped open. “What?!”
“I know!” I gushed excitedly. “I totally didn’t think he meant it Wednesday at his house, even after we—” Mom stopped to put her hands on her hips and gave me her full, unsmiling attention while I reconsidered just how much I should blab. “Well, anyway—he obviously was serious, because he asked me at school—big as life on the marquee!”
“I can’t believe it!” I hardly noticed Mom still wasn’t smiling.
“Neither can I! I can’t believe I’m really going with Jason!”
To my utter amazement, Mom pointed a finger at me threateningly and completely exploded. “You most certainly are not going with that boy! I strictly forbid it!”
I knew Mom wasn’t thrilled about my—whatever it was that I had with Jason, mostly due to the religion factor, but I didn’t think going to a dance with him would send her into orbit. But no matter how much I begged, she refused to give me the permission I needed to go to the dance.
“I can’t believe you can’t see this is just another proselytizing effort of his!” Mom yelled in frustration.
I could’ve handled it if she’d said he was only asking me because he thought he’d get more than dancing out of me. Or that he felt sorry for me. Or asked me on a dare. Anything but what she’d just said. I shut my mouth and looked stonily at her before calmly stating, “Of course. Everything’s all about him looking for a convert. Honest attraction towards me clearly isn’t believable to you. Or friendship. Why else would he want to go to a dance with me, right?”
“Kathy, honey—”
I grabbed my book bag and stalked out of the living room, slamming the front door behind me, before I could hear anything else she might say.
~
“Kathy—what’s going on?”
One look at my unsuccessful efforts to act like everything was fine the second I’d sat down to begin tutoring, and Jason wouldn’t stop bugging me until I was close to tears.
“My mom won’t let me go to the dance with you,” I finally said.
“She won’t? Why not?”
“She thinks you’re trying to turn me into a Mormon.”
I was strangely relieved to see unfeigned shock on Jason’s face. “What? I’m not trying to ‘turn’ you into anything! You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know.”
“I just want to go to the dance with you!” Jason said exasperatedly.
“I know.”
We both fell silent until Jason reassuringly squeezed my hand and smiled determinedly into my eyes. “Well, then I guess there’s only one way to fix this.”
Jason wouldn’t elaborate on whatever scheme he was scheming, but I found out later that evening after I sulked through dinner and locked myself in my room. I’d had my music on so loud I couldn’t hear anything but the Beatles screaming at me until Dad pounded on my bedroom door. I gave the door a yank and glared at Dad. “What is it?”
Dad made an attempt to shout over the music. “You have a visitor!”
“A visitor?”
“Just come on!” Dad walked away, so I had no choice but to switch off the record player and follow him back to the living room.
I stopped abruptly when I saw him. Jason. Jason was in my house, standing in the living room, looking over the pictures on our bookshelves. He turned around as quickly as he could with his leg brace and smiled. “Hey, Kathy!”
I hurried over to where he stood. “What are you doing here?”
“I actually came to see your parents, but your dad went looking for you before I could explain I really wasn’t here to see you. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t.”
I wondered if I looked as confused as I sounded. “How did you get here?”
Jason grinned. “Adam gave me a ride. He’s waiting outside in the car.”
I gaped in disbelief through the window at the unfamiliar car in the driveway. “I can’t believe it!”
“Yeah, well, it’s amazing what twenty bucks can buy.” Jason and I grinn
ed at each other until his grin faded into his game face. “Can I talk to your mom and dad for a second?”
I nodded slowly at him. “I guess.”
After rounding up my two baffled parents, it was my turn to be baffled as Jason politely but firmly asked me to please leave so he could talk to them alone. I walked in a daze back into my room, where I sat stiffly on my bed until I heard a soft rap on my door and found Dad standing there. Smiling.
“Okay, Cinderella. Go buy yourself a dress for the ball.”
I could only stare at him dumbfoundedly. “What—but Mom said—”
Dad smiled and reached out to give a lock of my hair a tug. “I know what your mom said. And your friend’s dramatics haven’t changed her mind concerning how she feels about him. But she was impressed with his little show of bravado. And so was I. He must know you’re someone special to go to this much effort to take you to a dance. I think that’s what won your mother over, albeit grudgingly.” Before I could answer, Dad hustled me out of my room. “He didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye, so go get him out of my house.”
Jason was studying the bookshelf pictures again when I entered the room. He turned, grinning the grin of the victorious. “So—everything’s cool now?”
There was something about the look on his way-too-triumphant face that tempted me to torture him some more. “I don’t remember ever saying I’d go with you. In fact, I haven’t had a chance to give you my answer. I’ve never said yes or no yet.”
“What the—but I thought—”
I had a horrible time keeping a straight face at the look on Jason’s dumbfounded face. “I know what you thought. But just because my parents said yes doesn’t mean I will!”
Jason stared in disbelief before speaking again. “Okay, well, will you tell me now? Finally? Will you go to the dance with me?”
I grinned back at him. “You’re just going to have to wait to get my answer.” And with that, I successfully kicked him out of the house, whistling as I skip-danced back down the hall to my room.
The Secret Journal of Brett Colton Page 22