After a half an hour, we were brought to the room with the wind tunnel and sized for our flight outfits, which looked liked orange prison jumpsuits. Before we put them on, we were asked to sign consent forms. I skimmed it, knowing it was probably the same deal as with zorbing, releasing them from any lawsuits if we got injured.
I was about to scribble my name on the bottom of the sheet when Nathan put a hand on mine.
"Wait," he said. "Let me finish reading this part before you sign."
He studied the contract for long minutes with a frown. Finally, he looked up at me.
"You can't do this," he said.
"What?" I asked, confused. "Why not?"
He tapped on a paragraph near the middle. "It says people with certain heart conditions aren't supposed to do this. Not if they don't have their doctor's permission."
I groaned. "Nathan, that's just standard language on any contract for things like this. They just want to make sure no one sues them just in case something goes wrong."
"Exactly," he said. "What if something does go wrong? I don't want you getting hurt."
I suppressed a growl, exhaling heavily through my nose. Those words were too close to what my mom had been harping on about.
"It's fine," I told him. "I don't need to see my doctors for every little thing. They've already said I'm good for things like this."
"For exactly this?" he asked dubiously. "They specifically said you can go indoor skydiving?"
"They didn't give me a list! They just said I'm okay to take part in regular activities."
"I doubt regular means this."
"And how would you know?"
"I've been reading up on it."
I blinked at him, surprised. "You have?"
"Yeah. I've been reading blogs and medical journals and stuff. I wanted to know more about what you've been through."
I was shocked and warmed at the same time. I hadn't thought Nathan would put so much effort into understanding my condition. Still, it didn't give him the right to tell me what to do.
"Just because you read some blogs doesn't make you my doctor," I told him firmly. "You don't know more than them."
"I'm sorry, but it's too risky."
I gaped at him. "Are you serious right now? You're really going to stand there and tell me to my face that you have the right to dictate what I can and cannot do? You're as bad as my mother!"
"Well, maybe I understand her a bit better now," he shot back. "We both just want to make sure nothing bad happens to you."
"Nothing bad is going to happen!" I shouted, frustrated. "I'm literally going to have wind blowing in my face. That's it. I don't have to go to the doctor every time I want to have a little fun."
"You're going to be in free-fall for a full minute. You're tricking your brain into thinking you're plummeting to the ground. You really think you should do that without talking to your doctor?" Nathan shook his head sadly and pulled the two admission tickets from his pocket. "I hate to do this Becca, but I can't let you risk yourself."
He ripped the tickets in half.
I stared at him, disbelieving. "Why the hell did you do that?"
"It's too dangerous," he said.
I clenched my jaw until it ached.
"I told you I'd never hurt you," he said. "And I'm not going to let you hurt yourself."
"Do you realize how condescending you're being right now?" I hissed.
He just looked at me, regret on his face.
Fury rose in my chest.
Fuck his regret.
I grabbed my bag and stormed off.
"Becca, don't go!" Nathan called out. "Let's talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about." I whirled back around with a glare. "I can't be with someone who treats me like I'm made of glass!"
I turned around and left him there, staring at me helplessly.
24
July was creeping up on us. If the hospital volunteers wanted to do a Winter Holiday themed party, we needed to start getting our plans in order. So far, Tracey's suggestion had been more of a vague idea. If we wanted to pull it off in time, we had to start actually getting things done.
I was thankful for the distraction. Between what had happened with my mom and what went down with Nathan, I didn't want to spend my days at home brooding. I took on extra shifts at work and at the hospital. My coworkers were pleased to give away their weekend shifts so they could go out camping and hiking and do other summer activities. And Tracey never said no to more volunteer hours.
Most of my extra hours were devoted to the event. I spent a lot of time in dusty closets in the children's ward searching for anything we could use. Most of my evenings were dedicated to arts and crafts projects, making the decorations. If there was anything I couldn't put together myself, I checked out stores around town. It was hard finding New Year's products in the middle of summer. And since we didn't have much of a budget, I had to ask the stores to give us the stuff for free as a tax-write off, which meant asking to speak to managers and higher-ups.
I'd gotten into volunteering so I could spend time with kids, and now I was haggling with retail stores and begging for donations. I wasn't exactly enjoying my assigned duties.
But it distracted me from my problems, which had been my intention, so I couldn't complain about it too much.
"What about a crystal ball?" Tracey asked me.
I looked up from gluing streamers onto cardboard. "Crystal ball? Like the ones psychics use?"
"Like the one at Times Square," she said, all energy and enthusiasm. "We can rig it so the ball drops at the last ten seconds, like just on TV."
We were planning on doing the event in the middle of the day, with noon being the official time the clocked ticked over into "the new year." I liked the idea of counting down like on TV, but a crystal ball?
"I don't know if I'll be able to find something like that this time of year," I told her.
"We can make it ourselves," she said, which I knew really meant that I would have to make it.
"You want me to glue crystals to a huge balloon or something?" I asked dubiously.
"Where's your imagination?" she grinned. "No, we're going to get a styrofoam ball from a craft store and roll it in silver glitter."
"You do know glitter is going to get everywhere, right?" I said. "We'll be finding pieces of it for months."
"I think there's a craft store just a few blocks away," Tracey continued, ignoring my warning. "When you've got a spare minute, do you mind picking one up?"
"Sure," I sighed. It beat going home and moping.
Tracey looked at me with concerned. "Are you feeling okay? You're looking a little down."
"Just… stuff," I said with a vague wave of my hand.
She made a sympathetic sound. "More boy stuff?"
"Boy stuff, parent stuff… I've just got a lot on my mind," I said. "I'll be okay. I'm just glad I have something fun to keep me busy."
Although I wasn't sure how fun playing around with glitter was going to be. I'd done enough crafts as a bed-ridden kid to know exactly how messy it was.
"I really appreciate this, Becca," Tracey said. "You've always been such a great help, and the kids love you. I really don't know what we'd do without you."
I gave Trace a small smile. "Thanks. I really love coming here, too."
"Oh!" she said, with a slight wince. "I forgot, I wanted to ask you something. Nancy wasn't able to come in for her volunteer shift this evening. Again."
The pinched look on Tracey's face told me she was sick of Nancy always flaking out. I wondered if soon Nancy might be fired from her volunteer position.
"So there are some adults in the oncology ward who are going to miss their weekly visitor," Tracey continued. "Would you mind filling in?"
"Sure." I had nothing else to do that night.
Tracey gave me a quick hug. "You really are the best."
Visiting patients, buying some craft stuff and putting together a crystal ball. It was enoug
h to keep me busy.
I took a look at the list of patients Nancy was supposed to be taking care of. Helen was on the list. I smiled to myself. I always liked talking with her and wondered how she was doing.
Helen was reading a magazine when I knocked on her door. She looked up and smiled at me, waving me in.
"Becca! It's so good to see you. Time for my weekly visit?" she guessed. "Where's Nancy?"
"She wasn't able to make it in today," I said. "Sorry, you're stuck with me."
"That's perfectly all right, dear. To be honest," she said with a fake whisper and a grin, "I find Nancy to be a bit too TMI for my tastes. I probably know more about her love life than her own boyfriend."
I suppressed a grin. That did sound like Nancy.
"But you're usually such a quiet little thing," Helen said. "I'd love to hear more about what's going on outside these walls. Tell me everything."
I pulled up a chair and sat at Helen's bedside, telling her all about the party for the kids. She laughed when I made a face at Tracey's glitter ball idea.
"That stuff gets everywhere," she warned.
"That's what I told her!"
We shared a laugh.
"And what about you?" I asked Helen. "How are you doing?"
She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, you know doctors. There's always another test to be run, another blood sample to take. I think the nurses must secretly be vampires, for all the blood they've drawn."
I noticed she specifically didn't mention her prognosis. Either way, if she didn't want to talk about her medical problems, I completely understood.
"Has your son been in to visit?" I asked.
"Oh yes," she said. "He visits me as often as he can. Well, of course he would. He always took great care of me. It was just the two of us when he was growing up, you know."
"He sounds like a good son," I said.
"I couldn't have asked for better. Although," she chuckled, "sometimes it felt like he was the parent and I was the child."
It was similar to what Nathan had told me about him and his mother. It must have been a common thing when it came to kids with ill parents.
"He was always looking out for me," she continued, a fond look on her face. "Making sure I got to my appointments on time, making sure I took the right medicine, making sure I ate a properly healthy diet." She shook her head. "It grated on me sometimes, you know, that he always felt like he knew what was best for me. But I know it came from a place of love."
I squirmed uncomfortable in my chair.
Helen's words hit too close to home. I was feeling smothered and infantilized, both by my mom and by Nathan. Telling me what to do, trying to run my life, making decisions for me.
But deep down, I knew they were only doing it because they cared about me. Maybe that was what made it worse. As much as I wanted to be, I couldn't really stay angry with them.
Mostly, I was mad at myself. Mad at my disease. I wasn't like everyone else. I wasn't able to do the things normal, healthy people could do. I had to worry about things most other people didn't.
It made me angry. It made me bitter.
And I ended up taking it out on the people I cared about.
"What's wrong, dear?" Helen asked. "You look like you ate a lemon."
I shook my head. "It's nothing. Just… something you said really made me re-think a few things."
"Oh no, did I make you have an existential crisis?" Her lips twitched, as if suppressing a smile.
I smiled back. "Yes, but in a good way."
"Wise, old Helen strikes again," she joked.
"You're not old at all," I said. "You said you son is only a few years older than me."
She sighed. "And I still think he's growing up too fast."
"Isn't that what all parents say?"
"Maybe I should invite him to come to this News Year's in July party," she said. "I think you two would get along well."
"Helen, are you trying to set me up with your son?" I asked, mocking a scandalized tone.
She winked, the laughed. "No, he's never been the type to settle down. Too much of a wild child. Still, you two would make a good match, I think." She straightened her back. I helped fluff her pillows so she could sit up. "Are you going to need any help for the party?" she asked. "I'd be more than happy to help."
"Are you any good at arts and crafts?" I asked wryly.
"I've been known to make a scrapbook or two," she said. "Plus, it will give me something to do so I don't die of boredom."
"I get that," I told her. "I'd love the help. I'll tell Tracey we've got one more hand on deck."
Helen and I spent the rest of her visit talking about the party and deciding what needed to be done.
But deep down, I was still thinking about what she said.
Maybe I'd been too harsh with Nathan, getting upset with him and storming off like that. He really had been looking out for me, and he had put a lot of effort into understanding my illness. Despite all the fussing and smothering, it had all come from a place of love.
Love.
That was a word I hadn't thought to apply to me and Nathan before. I cared about him, yes, and I knew he cared about me.
But love?
I'd never been in love before, and I had no idea what it felt like. The idea of it was too intense. Too real.
I quickly shoved the thought away and returned my attention back to Helen.
But in the back of my mind, I couldn't help thinking.
If ever I was going to fall in love with someone, Nathan Walker would have been it.
25
As I sat slumped on my sofa, nestled in a pile of blankets and eating vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate syrup from the container while covered in glitter, I realized I was the poster child for the "before" photo of a motivational infomercial.
I'd given up on the arts and crafts portion of my night and decided to spend the rest of my evening brooding. I'd had a hard few days, emotionally speaking, and had hit my limit when the glitter wouldn't stay glued to the styrofoam. I'd been three seconds away from tossing the whole thing in the garbage before I forced myself to take calming breaths and escaped to the kitchen to grab the ice cream.
If Tracey wanted a crystal ball, she'd have to make one herself.
I mindlessly flicked through various news sites on my phone, wanting to keep up to date with the rest of the world. It was all bad, awful, terrible news, one after another. I read up on it anyway, wanting to be well informed, but I was already feeling pretty awful about the state of things, and soon switched to cute animal videos for my own sanity.
I'd had a fight with my mom, a fight with Nathan, and the worst part was, I knew a lot of it was my own damned fault.
Yes, my mother shouldn't have forbid me to see the boy I was dating, and yes, Nathan shouldn't have presumed to tell me that he knew about my heart defect better than my doctors. That was shitty of them. But they were only trying to look out for me, trying to do what was in my best interests. I should have been more patient and understanding. I shouldn't have just stormed out on them.
But I didn't want to back down. I wasn't the only one who had overreacted. I knew I was just being stubborn, but I didn't want to be the one to apologize first.
A knock on my apartment front door startled me, almost making me drop a spoonful of ice cream in my lap. No one ever came to that door. My parents always used the entrance connecting my apartment to the house. It wasn't like I ever got any other visitors.
Maybe my mom was trying something new, since I'd been ignoring her messages for days.
I put the tub back in the freezer and went to the door, unlocking it. I swung the door open.
Nathan was standing in front of me.
I blinked, taken aback, before grabbing him and yanking him inside.
"What are you doing?" I hissed. "My parents might have seen you!"
"I made sure to come around the side of the house," he said. "I don't think they saw me."
"You
don't think?" I slammed the door behind me and turned to face him.
He looked handsome as ever, with his hair falling into his eyes and his tight t-shirt showing off every plane of his chest muscles and tattooed arms. His dark denim jeans were crisp and his sneakers were pristine.
"Is that… glitter?" he asked.
I immediately became aware of my ratty sweat pants, messy hair and glittered skin.
I folded my arms over my chest, suppressing a flush.
"I was doing some crafts for the New Year's in July party," I explained.
"You know that stuff gets everywhere."
"Yes, I do know, thank you," I said. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to apologize," he said. His words were a combination of earnest and chagrinned. "I was doing a lot of thinking and I realized what I did to you was really shitty."
I nodded to show I was listening. "It was."
"I could make excuses and say I was only looking out for you, but I know it's not my place to tell you what to do. You're an adult. You can make your own life choices."
The look in his eyes was pained but sincere. He truly was sorry.
I let my defensive arms fall to my sides.
"I need to apologize, too," I said. "I overreacted by getting so upset. I understand that you were just doing what you thought was best for my health. You were worried about me because you care."
Nathan's eyes lit up with relief.
"I do care," he said. "The last thing I'd want to do is hurt you. I just freaked out at the thought of something happening to you."
The small kernel of anger that was still knotted in my chest began to unwind. The tension in my shoulders relaxed, no longer so on guard. The hopeful look on Nathan's face was my undoing.
He really did care about me.
I went over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head on his chest. His fingers threaded through my hair.
"I know you do," I said. "I think I was just sensitive because of what happened with my mom. It was too much to handle at the same time. It reminded me of all the times I was told no, you can't do this when I was growing up. I thought I'd finally outgrown that stage of my life and it frustrated me to think I was being shoved back into that position again."
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