The First Love Edition

by Jennifer Bernard

  Also, he’d stop bringing his players to Peyton’s clinic. If he was really going to make a clean break, it had to be complete. If any more injuries occurred, he’d take them to the next closest urgent care. They were young and strong, they could handle ten more minutes in a car. But he couldn’t handle any more Peyton time than absolutely necessary.

  Decision made, he came to a stop on the path and bent over, hands braced on his knees. Panting for breath, he hauled in the air, sweetly scented with sage brush and cottonwood. His heart was jumping and thundering, as if clamoring to be heard.

  He knew what it wanted to say. You love Peyton. You belong with Peyton. He had no idea why he’d been born with such a stubborn, single-minded organ in his chest. But a heart was just that—an organ. It would damn well have to do what it was told.

  Walking into Everton High was a little strange after the events of Saturday night.

  For one thing, everyone was buzzing about the fact that Jack Cooper had set foot on campus—and even entered the teachers’ lounge.

  “Does anyone know where my cupcake apron is?” demanded the Home Ec teacher.

  “And who took my Go-Gurt?” added Janine.

  When he explained that Jack was to blame, everyone forgot their indignation and gushed over the amazing fact that a movie star had plundered the teachers’ lounge.

  Typical. Jack always got off scot-free.

  Then again, rumor had it that he’d made a substantial donation to the high school Drama department to compensate them for the scenery flat. Which was technically Nick’s fault, since he’d knocked Jack into it. But Jack had deserved it, so he didn’t intend to argue.

  As always, baseball practice was the highlight of Nick’s day. “How’s that wrist, Dale?” he asked the lanky senior, who sat moodily on the bench, arm in a sling. “What’d the X-ray say?”

  He shrugged. “That doctor was right, it’s not broken. Just sprained. But sprains take forever to heal, so basically it sucks.”

  “Sorry, dude.” Nick touched his shoulder. “Injuries happen to everyone sooner or later, even the greats. You know what I do need, though? You’re good with computers, right? Coding and so forth?”

  “Sure. I can code. What do you need?”

  “I want to do some data analysis before our game against the Scorpions.”

  Dale brightened at the mention of their biggest rival. “I’m on it. What are you thinking?”

  Nick explained his idea, while keeping an eye on the fielding drills the players were running. He kept breaking away to offer pointers or yell encouragement. After one of those breaks, he came back to see Dale squinting at the bleachers.

  “Hey, isn’t that the doctor? Did she come to check on me?”

  Nick swung around, craning his neck to see who Dale was referring to. Yup, it was Peyton. She sat on the bleachers, feet propped on the seat back in front of her. The sun turned her hair into a fuzzy halo of gold, and her white-framed sunglasses gave her an owlish look.

  His heart turned over in his chest. And he knew there was no possible way that Janine could ever replace Peyton. She was it for him. Always had been, always would be.

  “Be right back,” he told Dale. “Don’t do anything dumb, like try to field grounders with your sling.”

  Dale brightened. “Bet I could do it.”

  “If you try, you’re dead.”

  “Aw man. At least let me do a couple of wind sprints.”

  “Half speed. No more.”

  Nick jogged across the field toward the bleachers where Peyton sat. What the hell was he going to say to her? He had literally no idea. Hide the truth? Confess the truth? Offer to stay friends? Tell her he had to make a clean break, as he’d decided last night—which seemed like a lifetime ago?

  He climbed up the bleachers, intensely aware of her gaze on him. When he came within two steps of her, she took off her sunglasses.

  Their eyes met. And he knew that he didn’t have to say anything, because his face showed it all.

  After taking off her sunglasses, Peyton had the weird thought that she’d never really seen Nick clearly before. He’d been so many things to her over the years—competitor, friend, jogging partner, comforter in time of need. Finding out that he’d liked her all that time was a total shocker. For the past half hour, she’d sat in the bleachers and watched him with the players. And realized that she’d never really paid the proper amount of attention to Nick.

  He was so kind to his young players. He really listened to them. She could tell from the way they talked to him that they adored him. Nick was the “cool” teacher and coach who everyone loved. He didn’t pretend to be their friend or act like he was “one of them.” He was his own self, utterly confident and comfortable in his skin. And that made the people around him relax, especially these teenagers.

  Now he was right in front of her, and the expression on his face just about ripped her heart out.

  The moment hummed with tension.

  She cleared her throat. “You never said anything.”

  “No.”

  “Because of Jack?”

  He sat on the staircase that continued to the top of the bleachers. She remembered watching Nick and Jack and the others run up and down those stairs for exercise. It must have worked, because Nick’s workout pants clung to the hard outline of his thighs. “Partly. Timing, too. I was thinking about it, before Jack made his move senior year. But I wasn’t sure you even liked me at all back then. We were always competing. I guess I was afraid you’d laugh in my face.”

  “I wouldn’t have.” But what would she have done? Probably nearly dropped dead from shock, same as when Jack had asked her out. “But I guess I would have been surprised. I wasn’t the most confident girl in the world back then.”

  “Could have fooled me, Ms. Valedictorian.”

  “Academics, yes.” She attempted a smile. “Anything else, no. Especially dating. I was clueless when it came to boys.”

  “I guess being with Jack fixed that?”

  “In a way, I guess. I no longer felt so backwards compared to the rest of our class. I mean, if Jack liked me, I couldn’t be a total loser, right? But then came The Big Dump, and you were with me that day. You helped me get through it. Why didn’t you say anything then?”

  “I was just the guy who happened to walk in on you crying. Would you have heard a word I said if I suddenly told you how I felt?”

  The passion in his voice made her palms tingle. “How…how did you feel?”

  He met her gaze with those quiet, dark, steady eyes of his. She lost her bearings for a moment as the bleachers, the baseball field down below, the stadium wall, everything seemed to fade away.

  “I’ve loved you since I was fourteen,” he said simply. “From the first time you sat in front of me and shared your M&Ms with me. No one else bothered with me because I was the new kid. You still had that gap between your teeth and your hair would never stay in its braid.”

  Self-consciously, she ran her tongue across her teeth. That gap had been such a sore spot for years.

  “I loved the gap,” he said softly. “I loved your braid, and I loved how you used to fling your hand in the air to answer a question in class. I loved how fierce you were about getting good grades. You made me want to do well, too. I probably wouldn’t have cared if not for you. My parents sure didn’t. All I wanted was to impress you.”

  “But I thought…I thought you didn’t like me. You always wanted to beat me at everything.”

  “I didn’t care who came out on top. I just wanted you to notice me. And I wasn’t crazy and funny like Jack. I was an introvert. It was hard for me to talk to you because I had such a huge crush. So I figured competing with you would at least put me on your radar screen.” He gave a wry smile. “You have to admit it worked.”

  “Well, yes. Obviously. I think I have journal entries entirely devoted to my plans of triumph over you. I wonder…” She bit her lip, unsure.

  “What?”

  “We
ll, maybe all that competing was basically…foreplay?”

  His jaw dropped open. A slow flush rose on his cheekbones. With those hollowed-out cheeks and strong eyebrows, he really was almost romantically handsome, like someone from a Bronte novel. “That would be…nice,” he said in a strangled tone. “Are you saying…”

  “I always thought you were attractive, but I didn’t think you liked me. You were always scowling whenever I looked at you.”

  “Because I was always embarrassed that you caught me staring. Are you saying that you would have gone out with me back then? Before Jack?”

  “Yes. Of course I would have. But it would have been awkward, because you were shy and I was shy. I had no idea what to say to boys. I would have talked about finals and band camp and SATs.”

  He laughed, the lightest sound she’d heard from him since Jack had shown up. “I wouldn’t have minded. You could have talked about slime mold and I would have been happy.”

  “Slime mold is actually quite fascinating,” she pointed out. “It’s an amoeba and has no brain. Or feet.”

  “Okay then. Why don’t we—make a date? We can talk about slime mold. I swear I’ll be fascinated.”

  He waited for her answer, his heart in his eyes. Years’ worth of emotion laid bare.

  And she—hesitated.

  This was Nick. Her friend. If it didn’t work out, she might lose him. She couldn’t bear that.

  After an excruciating moment of paralyzed silence, his face shut down. He turned to go. And she couldn’t bear that, either.

  “Wait. Nick. Don’t go—” But he was already loping down the stairs toward the baseball diamond.

  She looked past him, to the field, where something caught her eye.

  Dale, wrist in a sling, was staggering down the base line, vomiting as he went.

  And just like that, all the bits of research and observation crystallized. Jesus, that was it. Dale had to get to a hospital right away.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Nick!” she called as she raced down the stairs after him.

  “It’s okay,” he choked. “We’ll be fine. I get it.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s Dale. We have to get to him to a hospital. I think he might have a brain tumor.”

  “What?”

  She dodged past him and kept running down the stairs. He kept pace easily, taking two steps at a time.

  “Are you sure? I thought it was dehydration, or growing too fast.”

  “No, I’m not a hundred percent sure until he gets an MRI. But all those clumsy accidents he keeps having? The balance issues are a sign. Now he’s vomiting. I did some research, that’s one of the reasons I came here today. I wanted to ask him if he’s been experiencing other symptoms. We need to get him to the emergency room right away. Run some tests. Please. Just…just believe me, okay?”

  She shot him a pleading glance as he loped next to her. His face had gone stark white.

  “Oh shit. Okay. Of course I believe you.” They reached the bottom of the stairs and dashed toward the gate that opened onto the field. “You call 9-1-1. I’ll get him off his feet so he doesn’t have another accident.” Nick picked up the pace as he reached the bottom of the stairs and launched himself across the field.

  Peyton slowed down enough to pull out her phone and place the call to 9-1-1. Then she called the best neurologist in the Phoenix area, Dr. Steed, whose kids she used to babysit. Calling in all her emergency babysitting favors, she begged him to meet them at the hospital in Phoenix. Their little suburb of Everton didn’t have the facilities to deal with this.

  By the time she was done, Nick was with Dale, one arm securely around his shoulder to guide him off the field. She ran across the grass, thinking of the many times she and Nick had raced each other around the Res. She reached Dale just as Nick was helping him down onto the bench. Pulling her penlight from her purse, she assessed his pupils. He couldn’t track the light; not a good sign.

  “His parents might want to meet us at the hospital,” she told him in a low voice.

  “That’s going to be tough. His mother works and has no transportation. I’ll go pick her up.”

  “No.” Dale grabbed Nick’s arm. “Don’t leave me. I don’t even know what’s going on.”

  “Okay, I won’t leave you. Let’s get you to the hospital first, then I’ll get your mom.”

  Several of the players were now gathered around them. In their workout clothes and scared expressions, they looked much younger than high school age. “Practice is cancelled for the day, spread the word,” Nick told them. “But I expect you all here on time tomorrow, got it?”

  “Is Dale going to be okay?” one of the players asked, no doubt speaking for them all. Nick glanced at Peyton.

  “We’ll make sure of it,” she said, hoping she exuded something like confidence.

  The next span of time sped by in a blur of paramedics, sirens, and an MRI.

  Dr. Steed arrived at the hospital, took a look at the results of the scan, and confirmed Peyton’s fears. Out of Dale and Nick’s earshot, he delivered his diagnosis.

  Juvenile pilocytic astrocytoma. A brain tumor. Benign, but growing. If it wasn’t removed, it would continue to cause damage, perhaps even permanent.

  “So, what next?” she asked him.

  “That’ll depend on his parents. I take it the man in there with him isn’t related?”

  “No, that’s his coach. But he’s been talking to Dale’s mother. I think she’s on her way.”

  “Good. We’ll present her with some options then. Page me when she gets here.”

  Peyton slipped into Dale’s exam room and caught Nick’s attention. Dale had drifted to sleep, but even so, she knew he was reluctant to leave him alone. He was such a great guy. A caring human being.

  In the hallway, Nick scrubbed a hand through his hair. “What’d the specialist say?”

  “We have to talk to Dale’s mom first. How far out is she?”

  “I called her a cab. She should be almost here by now.”

  She ached to pull him into her arms and soothe that haunted look from his face. “He’ll be okay. Hang in there. You’re being amazing. Dale is so lucky you’re here.”

  “He’s lucky you’re his doctor. What if you hadn’t figured it out?” His phone beeped just then. “Cindy’s here. Dale’s mom. Will you come with me? I won’t be able to explain the medical stuff.”

  “Of course.”

  They met Cindy Marks in the hospital lobby. She was nearly hysterical, her eye makeup smudged and eyes bloodshot. She was a young mother, still in her mid-thirties, with a tattoo snaking around her neck and piercings running up both ears.

  Once again, Nick came through. First, he managed to calm her down just by maintaining his own rock-solid cool. He had her sit down, got her a glass of water.

  “Dale’s sleeping right now, he’s fine. But when he wakes up, he’s going to be scared, okay? So let’s do our best for him.”

  “Right, right.” She nodded, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the heels of her hand. “I’ll be okay. Just tell me what’s what.”

  Peyton introduced herself and explained that she’d just paged the specialist to join them. “It’s best if he explains Dale’s condition. In the meantime, there’s some paperwork to fill out.” She offered Cindy the clipboard the charge nurse had left with her.

  “I’ll try, but…” She looked doubtfully at her hands, which were shaking badly.

  “Want me to do it?” asked Nick, taking the paperwork. “I won’t remember anything I write, I promise.”

  She managed a wavering smile. “I trust you, Coach. You’re always there for us. Thanks.”

  Peyton went to get coffee while Nick filled out the paperwork with Cindy. In case she’d ever doubted Nick’s kindness, she was getting up-close proof of it. Nick Kolanowski was the quiet hero, the one who saved you in the moments that snuck up and sandbagged you.

  Dr. Steed arrived and laid out the options. Surgery would be necessary,
but it didn’t have to be right away. However, since they didn’t know at what rate the tumor was growing, he didn’t recommend waiting too long.

  “Can we do it…now? Today?” Cindy Marks twisted her hands together. “I don’t want something growing in my kid’s brain.”

  “We can,” Dr. Steed said. “I’ve checked the schedule. But I would recommend discussing it thoroughly first. We need to decide soon, however.” He left them to discuss it.

  Peyton stayed with Nick and Cindy while she wrestled with the decision, and it was a good thing she did. Nick came up with quite a few questions that Cindy would have asked, if she weren’t so rattled. Peyton answered everything that she could, based on her surgery rotations, though it wasn’t her specialty.

  Finally, Dale’s mother fixed desperate eyes on her and asked, “What would you do?”

  “You have to make the decision. No one else. What’s right for you might not be right for me.”

  “I know all that blah blah! I’m asking as a friend. You’re Nick’s friend, and that makes you mine. What would you do if it was you?”

  Peyton exchanged a quick glance with Nick. Offering her opinion as a friend would be okay, she supposed.

  “I wouldn’t wait. Dr. Steed is the best, he’s available, and we’re here. I see no real reason to delay. We’re lucky…”

  She cast a glance at Nick, looking for support. As always, he provided it. “We’re lucky Peyton caught it. She suspected something was wrong when I kept bringing Dale to the clinic. Someone up there is really watching out for him.”

  “Okay. My poor baby. He’s been acting so funny, but I just figured it was him being a teenager, you know? When I was his age, I was gettin’ ready to have him. High school, you know. Crazy days. Do it. Tell them to do the surgery. Where’s that paper I need to sign?”

  Nick held the clipboard for her so she could sign it. She clutched at his forearm, her long nails digging in, but he didn’t flinch. When she was done, she stood up and fished around in her purse. “I’m going for a smoke. I was going to quit, but guess maybe I’ll put that on hold for now.”

  As she left, Nick handed Peyton the clipboard. “Will you take this to the nurse? I’m going to stay out here and keep an eye on her. Dale’s told me a little bit about the rough times she’s had. I don’t want to leave her alone.”