by Hotcheri
I couldn’t contain the laughter bubbling up in my throat and I collapsed in a giggling fit. Laughing felt good after all that crying.
Luke waggled his finger in front of my face. “You see? I knew you’d laugh,” he said mildly.
“Sorry, but- really?” I snickered.
“Yeah.”
“We should definitely go. 17 years in New York and you’ve never been to the top of the tallest building here?” I grinned. “What kind of New Yorker are you?”
“Not a really good one. I haven’t been to Liberty Island, either,” Luke admitted, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Then we have to go to both those places,” I said.
“We will, don’t worry,’ Luke said, looking down into my eyes. “Hey, is that your real eye color?” he asked suddenly.
Nodding, I said, “Yeah.” I sighed. “I don’t really like their color. Everyone else in my family has brown eyes.”
“It’s what sets you apart. They’re a really gorgeous color,” he said, squeezing my shoulder.
“Thanks,” I said, my pulse jumping in my throat. I swear, if he doesn’t stop with the sweetness...
Grinning wickedly, Luke added, “Even though you’ve been crying.”
“And you claim to be on my side,” I joked and he laughed.
“Sorry.”
My cell phone alarm went off and I sighed.
“That’s my alarm. I have to go,” I said reluctantly, not wanting to leave. “Work calls.”
“Aw!” Luke exclaimed, sounding remarkably like Faith. “Now I’m gonna be so bored. I hate being alone, so you’ll have to stay.” His eyes gleamed. “I’ll call your boss and tell him you’re sick.”
Feeling chuffed that he didn’t want me to leave, I shook my head. “Nuh-uh. I have to go or he’ll fire me.”
“But who’s gonna keep me company?”
“Your friends,” I pointed out.
Luke wrinkled his nose, avoiding my eyes. “They’re all- busy.”
“You are so lying,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.
“Guilty,” Luke said, grinning sheepishly.
Curiously, I asked, “Haven’t your friends wondered about you lately?”
Because mine certainly have. Like when I blew Shazia off today when she wanted us to go to the bookstore. She was not impressed. I’ll have to make it up to her.
“Nope, but I guess they will. Soon.”
“Are you gonna tell them?” I asked.
“No.” A crafty smile. “That’s why I need you to hang with me coz you’re the only one who knows and I feel comfortable around you.”
Nice try, Luke. Unfortunately, I didn’t think that Nino would understand. “You’ll get me fired,” I told him, reaching under the table to get my bag. Luke removed his arm from my shoulder.
“Okay, I get the hint,’ he said in a mock upset tone. “I’ll finish all this ice cream, then I’ll go home and work on my list alone, even though it’s more fun when you’re around.” How sweet! He looked at me, just as I was getting to my feet. “Hey, was it you that marked ‘bring sexy back’ on my list as done?”
“I really have to go,” I said, backing away from the booth. He saw that? Uh oh! “I’ll see you at school, bye!”
I almost ran out of Baskin Robbins, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
CHAPTER 12
wakeup call.
Luke’s Point of View
My checkup with Doctor Khan started out routine. First, I was given an MRI which always freaks me out. Even with the earplugs they gave me, I still got a headache from the noise of the MRI scanner. Then again, what doesn’t give me a headache these days? And being strapped onto an examination table without moving for forty-five minutes with a scanning device around my head is a nightmare. And while the gesture was nice, the ‘relaxing’ music that was being piped into the examination room didn’t help.
After I got the MRI over and done with (luckily before my claustrophobia kicked in) I was given a number of small tests and had to give a blood sample. That just reminded me of how much I hate needles. I actually had to keep my eyes screwed shut the entire time the nurse had the needle in my arm, gritting my teeth. Okay, it didn’t hurt. But when it came to sharp objects piercing my skin, I was a baby. Plus, I really don’t like hospitals.
Finally, after all the required tests were done, I headed back to my private room to change. I seriously didn’t understand why dad bothered renting a room for an hour when I could have just waited in the waiting room like everyone else. He probably would have preferred to have me on a leash, one as tight as possible.
So I hung out in the boringly sterile room, lying on the neatly made bed, flicking from channel to channel and secretly hoping (even though if you asked me I wouldn’t admit it) that CiCi would just randomly walk in, the way she had last time I was here. I was really starting to enjoy her company, even though I thought she was insane the first day I talked to her. I guess I was justified- she almost broke my nose, after all!
But after getting to know her a little better in the past couple of weeks, I was beginning to realize that she hid more than I expected under that bubbly exterior of hers. A lot more. All she’d been to me before the penthouse incident was the smiling girl I borrowed pencils from but now I considered her a friend. And believe it or not, selfish rich kid Luke Astor, the guy who was famous for looking out for self and nobody else, cared about what happened to CiCi.
The story she’d told me about what happened to her niece made me loath her cousin even more. And the way she had cried in my arms... I sat up in the bed, tossing the remote to the side as the image of CiCi crying filled my mind. The girl missed her niece with all her heart and she felt like it was her fault. I wanted to know what was going on in her life, but I figured she would tell me in her own time. In the meantime, it wasn’t wrong for me to remember how pretty CiCi looked when she was crying, was it? Because if it was, then I was guilty. And even though I had felt sorry for her when she was crying, all I could think about as I held her was how amazing her hair smelt and how soft her skin was and how unbelievable it felt having her in my arms. Wondering what her home life was like, I realized that I wanted to do something big for her, just to let her know that I was there for her like she was there for me.
Before I could think harder about that, Dr. Khan walked into the room, smile intact, a file in his hands.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rested my feet on the floor as he sat down next to me.
“Okay, Lucas, your results are in.”
“And?” I gave him a sideways look but he was focusing on the papers in his lap. Or concentrating on not looking at me, which meant...
Dr. Khan cleared his throat. “We have some news,” he said.
I knew it!
“It’s bad news, right?” I said dryly. Why wasn’t I surprised? “No offence, doctor, but I’m used to expecting bad news from you these days.”
A deep breath from Dr. Khan as he finally looked at me, his eyes filled with compassion. My stomach lurched. God, now what? “Well, it certainly isn’t good news. Lucas, the size of your aneurysm hasn’t changed.”
“And that’s bad because?”
“If the aneurysm doesn’t grow, we can’t operate.”
Oh. I ran both hands through my hair then looked back up at the doctor. I didn’t know what to think anymore. “So two months turns into...what?” was all I could ask.
“We’re not sure,” Dr. Khan said. I could tell he was choosing his words carefully in an attempt not to panic me and I felt laughter bubbling up in my throat. Great. Now I was hysterical. At least I was in a hospital already; the good doctor could just sedate me if I decided to go crazy. “We can’t calculate the growth rate of the aneurysm. That’s why we’re taking this watch and wait procedure.”
I groaned, kneading my temples. “Damn.”
Doctor Khan patted me on my shoulder as I hunched over. “I’m sorry, Lucas. Once again, I wish I had better news for you.”
Dr. Khan nodded. “Technically, yes,” he replied. “But don’t you worry yourself. Your aneurysm won’t rupture. You’re receiving quality medical attention.”
Groaning again, I scratched the nape of my neck. “My dad is gonna be so pissed,” I mumbled, envisioning him pacing up and down the living room, yelling at me. He’d probably just grab a chainsaw and try to remove the aneurysm himself.
“Why?”
I raised my head, stared at the ceiling. “Coz he thinks I’m doing this on purpose, just to spite him or something,” I said slowly. Dad was such a dick about stuff lately that he thought everything I did was to spite him.
“He’s just scared, is all,” the good doctor proclaimed. I looked at him, biting back a smile. Dad, scared? Dr. Khan had no idea what he was talking about. “You’re his only son; he doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”
I didn’t even bother contradicting him, even though my inner voice was going ‘if only you knew.’ “Yeah. I guess you’re right,” I said, fighting to keep a smile off my face. Back to the matter at hand. “So, where do we go from here?”
“Of course, we’ll still be monitoring you weekly and if there isn’t a change in the size of your aneurysm, just take it as a good thing,’ Dr. Khan told me. “A lot of people live healthy lives with aneurysms.”
I stared dubiously at him. “Doctor, I’m 17. I can’t go live my entire life with these headaches. That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” If I had to pop Tylenol every day for the rest of my life, I’d go insane! “Can’t you just operate regardless?” I asked hopefully.
Dr. Khan looked shocked, shaking his head rapidly. “No, Lucas, that’s out of the question,” he replied, sounding outraged. I shrugged, feeling deflated. Just asking. “To operate when the aneurysm is that size is too risky.”
I bit my lip. “Bummer,” I muttered. “Doctor, is there ever a time you actually give your patients good news?”
Because he couldn’t be full of doom, gloom and bad news, could he? Why would anyone even want to be a doctor?
“Why, yes! Just today, I removed a cancerous tumor from a three year olds brain.” Dr. Khan smiled proudly. “He’ll make a full recovery and won’t need chemotherapy when he grows older.”
I looked at him in admiration. “Hey, kick ass! My doctor’s a rock star!” I exclaimed. My turn to clap him on the shoulder, see how he liked it.
“Alas, I’m just an ordinary man,” Dr. Khan said self-depreciatingly.
“But I’m in good hands, right?” I asked, suddenly seeing the good in the situation. More time to work on my list, more time to hang out with CiCi, more time to get to know her and listen to the way she rambled when she was nervous.
“Exactly,” Dr. Khan was saying as I stopped thinking about CiCi long enough to listen to him.
“I got faith in you, doc. Even though you always give me bad news, I know you got my back.”
Dr. Khan nodded, smiling at me. “You must continue to think positive, Lucas. You’re dealing with your situation very well for someone your age. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks, doc,” I said modestly.
“Did you go to see your therapist?” he asked.
I shook my head. Going to therapy was the last thing on my mind. I hated the couch, hated my therapist for asking me the same questions over and over and I really couldn’t stand the carpet she had.
“I haven’t been to my therapist in months,’ I admitted. My dad wasn’t pleased with that, but he couldn’t make me go! Anyway, I didn’t need therapy. I knew I was a screw up; I didn’t really want to know why I was a screw up. “I found some therapy of my own.”
I grinned, thinking of CiCi’s bright smile and those amazing hazel eyes and how she was so pretty but seriously had no idea.
“Do elaborate,” Dr. Khan said, curiosity lacing his voice. “It seems to be helping you. Maybe I could prescribe your ‘therapy’ to others.”
Shaking my head, I said, “It’s just a girl I go to school with. She’s helping me with my bucket list.”
A nervous look slid on Dr. Khan’s face. “Lucas-,” he started.
I cut in, already knowing where he was headed. “I know I’m not going to die. But I need to keep busy and not think about- this- otherwise I’ll go crazy. So I’m working on my list.” Shrugging, I looked at the doctor, who now had an expression of total understanding on his face. “It’s helping me stay positive.”
“That’s a very good thing, then.”
I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
At the back of my mind, I wondered if it was still about the list or if things were slowly getting a little bit more personal and I quickly laughed it off. So CiCi had confided in me. That didn’t mean anything, did it?
Dr. Khan stood up, his hands behind his back. “Is your dad picking you up today?” he asked, taking a few steps forward then turning to face me.
“Nope, my step-mom,” I replied.
I hated being a minor. Why couldn’t I just sign my own forms and walk out when I was done?
“I see. Well, when you see your dad, tell him I said congratulations,” Dr. Khan said.
I wrinkled my brow as I looked at him.
“For what?” I asked, wondering what the old man could have done to merit a ‘congratulations’ from anyone.
“The award he won. He’s being honored for it this weekend, at the gala,” Dr. Khan told me, looking at me like he suspected I was just pulling his leg and knew all about this award.
Scratching my head, I said, “You mean the gala’s for him?”
Now Dr. Khan was actually laughing, sure that I was just playing around. “You mean to tell me that you didn’t know?”
“What’s the award for?” I asked, ignoring his question. Of course I didn’t know, nobody in that house ever told me anything! I felt pretty stupid asking my doctor what my dad was being awarded for, especially since he was looking at me like he couldn’t quite believe it. I knew I should be asking my dad, but screw it. He wouldn’t tell me anything.
“It’s the Albert Schweitzer Gold Medal for Humanitarianism,” Dr. Khan told me, making me wonder how the hell anyone would remember that mouthful.
I laughed. Why would anyone give my dad a humanitarian award? What were they smoking? “That does not sound like my dad,” I said, wiping the tears of mirth from my eyes.
“On the contrary, your father has been a very big help to various causes,” Dr. Khan said reverently. “And your mother-.”
“Step-mom,” I interrupted automatically. I couldn’t help it. I loved Hope, but she wasn’t my mom.
“Yes, sorry. Your step mother is the head of a very successful charity. Their good deeds have not gone unnoticed.”
I sighed. “No wonder he’s so anal about me getting a date for the stupid gala,” I realized.
“You still don’t have a date?” Dr. Khan asked in disbelief. “A good looking guy like you?”
Laughing, I explained, “I just don’t know any girls I’d want to spend 5 hours at a boring gala with.”
Ever since I broke up with Joanna, I hadn’t dated anyone. It wasn’t for the lack of offers; I just couldn’t get back into the dating game, no matter what I tried. The girls I met these days were either so shallow and wrapped up in themselves that they bored me, or they were obsessive girls who knew my daily schedule off by heart. No thanks!
“Maybe you should take your school friend,’ Dr. Khan said mildly.
I squinted up at him, feeling puzzled. “What friend?”
“The one helping you with your list,” he elaborated, a knowing smile on his face. “If you can stand to be around her while she’s helping you with your bucket list, 5 hours should be a cinch.”
I bit my lip broodingly. This was the second time that someone told me to take CiCi to the gala. Coincidence or something else? I shrugged that thought off. Definitely coincidence. I didn’t belie
ve in fate, destiny or any of that garbage.
“Those events are always so boring,” I said lamely. “I don’t think she’d like it there.”
“You never know till you ask. After all, she’ll be going to spend time with you.” Dr. Khan tipped me a wink. “And now, let me take my leave. Have a good day, Lucas.”
“See ya, doc.”
After a nod in my direction, Dr. Khan strode out of the room, leaving me deep in thought.
Should I really take CiCi to the gala?
Celsi’s Point of View
I dragged myself through the front door of our apartment, exhausted from an afternoon spent shopping with Robyn, who still wasn’t satisfied with her dress.
“It’s got to be the same color as my shoes,” was her mantra all afternoon as we walked up and down Fifth Avenue, searching for the perfect dress. No luck.
In the lobby I stopped to chat with Mrs. Childs, the oldest tenant in our building and (in my opinion, at least) the biggest gossip in New York. The entire state, not just the city. She was glowing with the news that her granddaughter had been accepted at Columbia, making her the first member of the Childs family to go to university.
“If she can do it, so can you, honey,” Mrs. Childs said in her creaky voice, patting my cheek with her gnarled hand. “You have a special purpose in life, I just know it.”
I smiled ruefully, thinking about the raise in tuition fees. I still hadn’t told Aunt Kelly about that and I wasn’t looking forward to her reaction. Right now, university was so out of the question.
My shoulders hurt from lugging my bag around as I let myself into the apartment. Thankfully I set it down on the peeling kitchen counter and walked to the dark living room, hoping Aunt Kelly was there. Last night, I got home too late to talk to her and she had left for work before I woke up. The living room was empty but over the loud music coming from Nate’s room, I heard the shower running. Phew, she’s home.
Massaging my shoulders, I picked up my heavy bag and headed to my room, passing Nate’s room on the way. His door was open and the loud sounds of 50 Cent blasted from his CD player while he did sit ups. I sagged with relief as I waved at him.