“I mean, I’m happy you’re okay.”
Maybe it’s a guilty conscience. Maybe he’s looking to be forgiven. Whatever it is, I’m not taking the bait. Do not notice how sincere he looks. How sincere he sounds. I start walking again, more quickly this time, and damn him, he follows me all the way to the science wing.
When I reach my chemistry lab, Sebastian stops me with a hand on my arm before I can escape inside.
“Say something.” His eyes search mine and I slap the teeny tiny part of me that knows that look so well and that’s tempted by the familiarity.
“What is there to say?” It comes out with way more venom than I intend and Sebastian steps back.
“I’m sorry, okay?” He says the words softly. His hand inches toward mine, and I cross my arms again.
“Yep. That I can agree with.”
“It was a mistake, Jazz. A huge mistake. I loved you so much. Love you. Please believe me. Give me another chance?”
I take a deep breath. How easy it would be. Too fall back into step with him. To be the other half of Jasmine and Sebastian like I’ve been for so long.
No way. I can’t. I’m worth more than he gave me.
“Sorry Sebastian. You made your decision. We’re over. Now please leave me alone.”
So I can finish getting over you, once and for all.
Once I’m parked safely at my lab table and away from Sebastian, I pull out my chem book and last week’s lab notes with shaking hands. How dare he follow me down here and apologize and ruin an otherwise perfectly good day.
I pull out my schedule for next week’s Easy Easton Mornings. Going over the details for my interview and segments calms me immediately. By the time Frankie slides into the seat next to mine, I’m feeling totally zen and have almost forgotten about my jackass of an ex.
“You were awesome this morning!” Frankie says. “We were totally listening to you while we had breakfast. Mom says your radio personality is shining through big time.”
I smile. Frankie’s family has been like a second family to me so many times. Her mom often sends me home with trays of home cooked meals for my family and I always go back-to-school shopping with them, where she manages to buy me a few things. Not to mention listening to my family rants and always giving helpful advice. I seriously love those people.
I whisper-tell Frankie about Sebastian harassing me on the way to class with his weird intentions and apologies. She rolls her eyes but her nostrils flare as she listens to the story.
“What an assclown!” she whispers as our strict chemistry teacher stands in front of the class to begin. “He better stay away from you. You don’t need his crap! I’ll seriously go off on him, if you want.”
“Not worth your time. Or mine.”
“He’s not getting to you, is he? I mean, not in a take him back sort of way?”
“No way I’ll take him back.”
Frankie frowns, seeing right to the heart of my emotions. “I know it hurts,” she says. “I could kill him for that.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “It’s already way better than it was. I just never want to go through this again.”
The loudspeaker crackles. “Mr. Karns, can you please send Jasmine Torres down to the office?”
What now? I start to repack my bag, a pit of worry spreading in my stomach like spilled poison. Please, please, please, do not be something serious.
Frankie leans over and whispers.
“Maybe Sebastian is down there crying from his broken heart and they want you to see his anguish?”
I laugh weakly as I pack up and head toward the door.
I move quickly in the hallway though. I get called to the office a lot—it’s usually Mom with some message or needing me to do something for Danny or something. We aren’t allowed to use cell phones in school so she always calls the main office or guidance, calling me out of class and making a way bigger deal than things need to be. Except of course when it is serious, which happens way too often. But I guess I could be in some kind of trouble. Doubtful, but you never know. Maybe someone caught on to my on the air public insult to Sebastian?
Good morning Easton high, welcome to Today in Jasmine’s frantic brain.
Mrs. Robin, the school secretary, stands at the counter collating papers but stops when I come in. She rushes around the counter with a serious look on her face. “Your mom called. There’s been a family emergency with your brother. She wanted you to know. She’s on her way to the hospital and said she’ll call you when she has more news.”
I fall into one of the office waiting room chairs. Damn it. I squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them the room appears tilted and my breath comes in short bursts. “It was another seizure.”
Mrs. Robin sits next to me with a hand on my knee. “I’m sorry sweetie. It was. She said it happened at school. She’ll call you as soon as she has news.”
“I need to get there.”
Mrs. Robin nods. “Do you have a car? I’m sure Dr. Johnson would excuse the day given the circumstances.”
I shake my head, my face buried in my hands. I thought he was better now. I thought the new medicine would help. It’s only been a few weeks, but we were all starting to let our guard down. I take short, rapid-fire, machine gun breaths.
“How about another family member?” Mrs. Robin asks. But we’ve been through this before. There is no one else in my family that can help. But I guess they have to ask.
I look at her, but everything is blurry, as if she’s under water. “Frankie. Her mom gave permission for her to help out when needed,” I say. “She’s my best friend.”
Mrs. Robin gently takes my hand and leads me to the principal’s office. “Let’s go talk to Dr. Johnson and see if we can work this out to get you to your family.”
10
FRANKIE DRIVES TO the hospital with one hand on mine. I lean my head back against the seat, trying to calm my racing mind. Frankie’s citrusy perfume fills the space and every deep breath I take is filled with it. It’s familiar and comforting, even though it’s strong enough to make my eyes water.
I just hung up with Mom. She’s still at the hospital, but it seems Danny is stable. Apparently, it wasn’t too bad, all things considered, but since the school’s policy is to always call the ambulance when there is a seizure, a trip to the hospital was in order. But I don’t know the details yet so I’m not sure how true that is.
We’re silent all the way there, which is welcome. I hate the pity looks people give me when they find out my brother has epilepsy. Or worse, the well-meaning he’ll be okay statements. I mean, he may not be okay. Ever. I hope he is, but there are no guarantees. Anyway, with Frankie, even as loud as she is, she knows when I need her to just quietly be there.
She pulls into the St. Bonaventure complex and drives toward the parking lot.
“You can drop me off at the door.”
“I’m coming in.” She says it like she’s made a decision. But there’s no need. She shouldn’t miss school. Frankie is super strict about attendance and grades. I know she wants to be there for me, but it’s really not necessary.
“I’m fine. I’d rather deal with my mom alone. Seriously.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Besties?”
“Forever.” With a quick hug goodbye, she drops me off, and I walk into the hospital with my heart thumping.
When I get to the pediatric ER, Danny is sitting up on the second bed, reading an obviously well worn (and probably covered in gross germs) copy of an old Dr. Seuss book. Mom sits in a chair against the wall, her face drooping with exhaustion. She gives me a small, weak-tea smile.
“Hey!” I pull Danny into a hug. He smells like Danny, all little boy sweat and dirt with a faint whiff of Doritos, and his arms wrap around me like they always do, little fingers settling softly against the back of my neck. I pull back and look into his eyes. Regular Danny. I exhale. “How you doing, buddy?”
“I’m fine, Jazzy! I only fell asleep.
This is stupid I have to be here. We had an assembly this afternoon. With a hypnotist. A real live hypnotist! And I am missing it. So why do I have to be here again? I’m sick of this. I miss everything.” He kicks the book off the side of the bed.
Blowing out a huge breath, I sit next to him and try to pull him closer but he pushes me away.
“Come on, Danny. Tell me what happened.”
He shakes his head violently, the wires, electrodes and mesh cap whipping with the movement.
“I’m sick of talking about it. Nothing happened! I told you I was just tired.” He crosses his arms and looks up at the television. “Leave me alone!”
Mom raises her eyebrows and gives me a look that says this isn’t the first time she’s heard Danny say this this morning. I raise mine in return. What do I try next? A little help from her would be nice. Geez.
I decide to take a different approach, sticking with topics that make Danny happy. “Did you draw anything today?”
His eyes light up a little. “Yeah. I drew Iron Man at snack time. You can see it later.”
“Cool. So what happened after that? After snack?”
He gives me a warning look, but not nearly as volatile as he was a few minutes ago.
“It was in math,” he says, brown eyes huge in his face. “After snack I get tired sometimes. It was nothing. I think I fell asleep for a minute. My teacher makes a big deal over everything. And then I look like a big idiot in front of all my friends!”
I sigh, and pick up his hand in mine, kissing his knuckles. There’s no way to know what really happened. “I doubt anyone thinks that. Your friends love you. Your teacher is only being careful to take care of you, like she does with everyone in the class.”
Mom gives me a low thumbs up for smoothing things over and the iceberg around the Mom part of my heart softens a little. I take in a shaky breath, hoping I made him feel at least a little better about it all.
“Are you tired now?” I ask. “Why don’t you rest? You can show me your pictures when you wake up.” I lower his bed and tuck the thin blanket around him. I pick up the book from the floor and lay it beside him. “You can keep looking at this or watching TV, but let’s turn off the light. Mom and I will step into the hall, okay? We’ll be right there so just call out if you need us.”
He flips onto his side and glances up at the TV playing cartoons on mute. I check the video monitor to make sure it’s on and motion to the hallway, slipping into one of the plastic chairs just outside Danny’s curtained room.
“So what happened?” I don’t mean it in a confrontational way at all, even though when I talk to Mom my voice tends to take on that tone.
“His teacher said he was staring for a long time.”
“Wait, what? You’re having them do all this for an absence seizure? So he gets put through all this for nothing?”
But she crosses her arms and stands in front of me. She’s not in the mood to back down today either.
“I’m not a total idiot, Jasmine. He was unresponsive, even after being carried to the nurse. And he was still completely limp. The doctor said it sounds like one of his complex partials.” She sinks into the chair beside mine.
“Crap.” I knew a basically benign (for Danny) absence seizure was too good to be true. My mom covers her face with her hands and damnit if I don’t actually feel—okay fine, only a little, but still—bad for her.
“Sorry mom,” I say. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think you’re an idiot.” (White lies are okay when people are crying). “I’m just stressed.”
“I know, me too. When does it get better for him, you know?” She sighs.
“Yep.”
“Plus, I have no idea how we’re going to pay for yet another hospital visit. With our insurance being as crappy as it is, who knows how much this is going to cost us.”
I literally have to bite my tongue. Yeah, I get it, we have no money. But who thinks of that when their kid is in the hospital? Maybe if she’d sell that stupid expensive collector’s stereo dad left behind, instead of hanging onto it like he’s coming back, she could pay for some stuff. But that’s an argument we’ve had way too many times to bring up now.
I stand and peek in Danny’s room. “Asleep,” I say. “I’m going to run to the vending machine. Be right back. Want anything?”
Mom dismisses me with a shake of her head. The second I walk down the hall I feel better. I know it’s awful, but I can’t help it. Being near her drives me crazy.
I get a bag of cheese doodles, a bag of peanut M&Ms and a bottle of water. What can I say? I’m a stress eater. I drop onto the couch next to the vending machine and pull out my phone. Almost lunch time already? Wow. Hospital time is some weird time suck vortex. I text Wes.
guess where I am?
Wes is at school, obviously, but he’ll get my text eventually.
sunny!
His answer is almost immediate and I can’t help but smile.
no idea. um, waiting somewhere for me to passionately make out with you?
um, hello… friends!
right. So… I give up?
st. bonaventure.
shit.
yeah.
danny?
yep. complex partial.
that sucks. been there. he okay?
i think so.
you okay?
i think so.
want me to come hang out with you? i have like, permanent medical excuses. i prefer to use them for the beach and stuff, but i can take one for the team.
har har
seriously though.
we r fine. hopefully we’ll go home soon. mom says they aren’t admitting him. of course she’s also too busy complaining about hospital costs. she makes me crazy.
I immediately regret telling him too much about money complaints. Him with the brand new luxury car and material payoffs from his parents.
you sure? i’m about to go into AP physics. i would love to use you as an excuse to get out of that. i mean, i would love to be there for you.
AP? oooh, you’re fancy. no. we’re fine.
okay then. talk later?
I don’t answer. What does that mean? Text? It can’t mean call, right?
My phone dings while I’m trying to figure out what to say.
i mean to let me know how he is.
Phew. Awkwardness avoided.
sure.
tomorrow. plans?
I debate again but then type.
depends on danny. y?
if all is well want to hang out?
doing?
;)
OMG please don’t be a perv. i thought you were a nice guy.
aw, you think I’m nice.
anyway.
to banks, remember? there’s this cool hiking trail. it’s awesome.
sounds good. but I have to work on my interview. it’s important.
bring it. can i help?
I smile at the suggestion. Hanging with Wes may be the perfect distraction.
if danny is better, then yes.
sweet. wear good hiking shoes. and give me your address. i’ll pick you up.
you sure?
yeah. can i meet your mom?
not unless you want to risk catching rabies.
harsh.
txt you later?
yep.
I tuck my phone into my back pocket and finish my snacks. I look longingly at the pretzel sticks and granola bars, but I’ve met my calorie and sodium content for the rest of the week with the junk I’ve already consumed. I stand and trudge back toward Danny’s room, hoping he gets to go home to his normal life soon.
11
WHEN WES AND I get to the hiking trail, I can hardly believe how peaceful it is. Everything is so green and lush and… quiet. I’m instantly grateful I didn’t back out at the last minute, tempting as it was. Mom, Danny and I got home from the hospital super late last night, but luckily they released him with a pretty decent EEG report and nothing more than yet another mi
nor medication change. Even still, the exhaustion this morning had almost made me miss this.
I follow Wes up a relatively steep trail. It’s crazy beautiful with streams and waterfalls and a canopy of thick oaks. It’s a hot day, but relatively cooler under the trees. Tree roots crisscross beneath our feet and I brace my sneakers against the thicker ones for leverage. In some places the path is incredibly narrow, walled in by large rocks on either side. I put my palm against them as I pass, loving the feel of the cool stone beneath my hand. The climb is far from treacherous, but it takes effort and my breathing comes quick and uneven on the climb. The higher we get, the freer I feel. The air gets thinner as we climb but I take big gulps of it as if it’s the first breath I’m ever taking.
The further we go, the more the stress of my life drops away. All of it—school and home and Danny and internships and Mom and scholarships—has been wound so tightly around me like a rope that kept me from breathing. But as we make our way up that mountain trail, it’s like that rope of worries loosens and falls away.
We reach the pinnacle of the small mountain in less than an hour. We aren’t all that high, but even still, I’ve never seen my town like this. Simply amazing. Beautiful.
Wes plops down on a flat rock and drops his bag beside him, rustling around inside it. As I sit down beside him, he pulls out a knife.
“I knew it,” I deadpan. “You’re a murderer.”
He takes an apple out of the bag and rolls his eyes. “I see the other part of that thought in your eyes,” he says with a grin as he slices the apple. “I knew he was too good to be true.”
“Oh God, ego much?” I laugh as I take the slice of apple he offers. “It’s so beautiful up here. I can’t believe I never knew this existed.”
“Yeah. It’s my favorite hike. I don’t come all that much, because it’s a dicey trek alone.”
“I love it.” I look out over the town, way down below. “I feel so small up here. Or maybe it’s all that down there that’s small. I don’t know, but it’s perfect.”
Wes nods, chewing. “That’s my favorite part.” He stares off as if deep in thought. I find myself scanning the streets and trees below, wondering about all the busy, individual lives. All the different problems.
This Ordinary Life Page 8