Body Parts

by Jessica Kapp

  I stare into my cup. My coffee is much lighter than Gavin’s, but the smell makes me squeamish, like the acids will eat away the lining of my stomach.

  “Not a fan?”

  I scrunch my nose. “We weren’t allowed to have coffee, but if it tastes anything close to what it smells like, I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

  He takes my cup. “Then we can’t be friends,” he says with a playful smile. “Hungry?”

  “I can definitely eat.”

  We join the others at the table. Paige is the only one still in bed.

  “How’d you sleep?” Sasha asks me. Adrian nudges Ry, and Mary rocks back and forth on her crate as if I’m about to launch into an exciting story about princesses and dragons.

  “Good,” I say as Gavin slips a bowl of cereal in front of me. I grab my spoon and put a bite in my mouth. It tastes like cardboard. Old, wet, cardboard. I fake a smile and force myself to chew.

  “You looked pretty cozy,” Sasha says, her eyes moving from me to Gavin, fast enough for Mary to miss, but obvious enough for the rest to notice.

  My cheeks burn. Gavin sits next to me and slings an arm around my shoulder. “The only thing that would have made the night better would have been a set of earplugs. I could hear you snore from across the room, Sasha,” he says.

  Adrian and Ry laugh, and it’s Sasha’s turn to blush.

  Halfway through my cereal, my vision blurs and my headache is back—this time worse than before. I’ve been spacing my pills out, saving them for a chest ache, figuring my heart will tell me when I need my meds. But right now my brain feels like it’s on fire. I groan and Gavin stands to check the wound in the back of my neck, babbling about a possible infection, but his voice becomes garbled and the room starts to tilt.

  I stumble when I try to stand. Gavin catches my arm, holding me steady. He mouths a question that sounds like white noise. I think he’s asking me what’s wrong, but I can’t get my lips to move. Mary is crying, and Sasha’s face is so pale it matches the white of her hair. Adrian rushes out of the room as Gavin scoops me up. He puts me on the kitchen table and pulls the hair back from my face. Everything hurts. My head feels like it’s swelling—a bike tire that’s been overinflated, ready to burst.

  Someone puts a cold rag on my forehead and I lie still, letting the muffled noises disappear. I close my eyes and I see my mom. Her face is radiant, her eyes as green as snow peas. She’s caressing my face. Maybe I’m dying. I don’t want to. I have more to do, people to save. People who need me.

  And I need them…

  • • •

  Sasha is the first person I see when I open my eyes. She holds the rag against my head and smiles when I blink.

  “How’ya feeling?”

  “Better,” I say. “What happened?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me,” she grunts. “Whatever it was, you passed out for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “It’s after lunch.”

  I look around the empty room.

  “Where’s Paige?”

  “Ry is showing her around. Took her away from here to get something to eat. She needed some fresh air.”

  I understand the feeling and nod when I sit up.

  “And in case you’re wondering about anyone else…he went to get help.”

  “Gavin?”

  “No, Burk,” she says, snapping me in the arm with the rag. “Yes, Gavin. He knows someone who might be able to figure out what’s wrong with your head.”

  “Cherry?”

  Sasha smirks. “Don’t worry, little miss prissy pants knows squat about medicine. She can tell you what the pills she takes do for her, but she can’t tell you how they work.”

  “Who then? A doctor?” My voice escalates an octave. “What if they ask questions? What if he gets caught?”

  “He’s not seeing a doctor.” She helps me down. “He went to see his dad.”

  I grimace. “I thought they didn’t talk.”

  “They do now.”

  When I see white dots in my vision, I lean back against the table. Sasha joins me.

  “So what happened with you two last night?” she asks.

  “With Gavin? We just…talked. That’s all.”

  “And then decided to share a bed.”

  “We didn’t…you know…”

  “I know.” She throws her head back and laughs. I squirm in my seat, feeling as young as Mary. I half expect Sasha to give me the birds and the bees talk. “But you guys kissed, right?”

  I don’t answer her, but my face must be red because her chin bounces like I’ve told her.

  “I’m glad.” She knocks her knee against mine. “What I said about not liking you, well, you’re not so bad.”

  “Thanks, I think.” I rub my head.

  “What I mean is, Gavin’s like a big brother, even though I’m older than him. He helped me get my shit together. He didn’t turn his back on me when I needed him, even though I let him down.” She scratches her thighs and keeps her eyes on the floor. “I guess what I’m saying is, it’s good to see him smile again.”

  I’ve never seen her look so vulnerable. The white spikes on her head contradict her expression. I look away in case she needs to cry.

  “When Gavin saved me, I was pretty depressed,” she goes on.

  “Because he didn’t save you in time?”

  She nods in my periphery. “I was kept in isolation, then they ripped out my uterus.” Her voice is shaky. I debate whether I should put my arm around her, whether she’d let me. “When Gavin brought me here, I started using any pills Ry would give me to numb the pain. Gavin helped me get sober so I could deal with my anger, but I don’t know if I’ll ever really get over it. The past is one thing…but I’ll never get to start my own family. They stole that from me too.”

  I don’t realize I’m crying until a drop hits my hand. I wipe my face because Sasha doesn’t seem like the type of person who cares much for sympathy, but I’m not stealthy enough, and I hear her chuckle. Soon we’re laughing through thick lenses of tears. When it fades out, Sasha lets out a sigh and I stand. I have a strong urge to give her space.

  “I’m going to stretch my legs.”

  “You should really take it easy.” She wipes her nose. “At least until we figure out what’s going on with you.”

  “I’m just going to walk. The air might be good for me…do you want to come?”

  “No thanks. I told Ry I’d do dishes for him. He seemed pretty eager to take Paige out. He wants to be the one to cheer her up.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  She tilts her head like she’s unsure.

  “What do you think about Ry’s brother?”

  “I dunno. Kenny’s been helpful. He’s kind of bossy, but we need him right now.”

  I don’t know what I expect her to say, so I purse my lips and turn to leave.

  “Craig doesn’t trust him,” she blurts out.

  That makes me freeze. When I look back, her feet dance in place like she’s nervous. She revealed too much. She trusts me with Craig’s feelings. I’m both honored and worried about what she’s about to tell me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Kenny’s tight with his dad. He’s the son every father wants. Ry’s the black sheep. He pops pills. The family’s pretty much disowned him. Craig doesn’t understand why Kenny suddenly changed sides.”

  “You don’t think he’s a do-gooder trying to reconnect with his brother while helping our clan of misfits?”

  “The thing is…” Sasha sharpens her spiky peaks with her fingers, twirling them into points that remind me of Ms. Preen’s nails. “Their dad is the CEO of PharmPerfect.”

  “W—what? You mean, Ry’s dad?” I grip my stomach as a wave of nausea rolls over me. “Should we be worried?”

  “With Ry? No. Never. That guy hates his dad.”

  “What about Kenny? Why would he help us?”

  “He told Gavin he wants to make things right with
Ry. Maybe that’s why Kenny dropped out of med school.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Dunno,” she says. “Craig was a grade between them. He said Kenny would be the first to badmouth his brother if it worked to his benefit, especially if it made him look like the better son. He even tried to get Ry kicked off the baseball team.” I grunt my displeasure. “But like Gavin said, he’s useful to us.”

  She clasps her hands together and turns toward the sink. I leave her alone and slip into the bathroom to change my clothes, mulling over the new information.

  Why hadn’t anyone told me Kenny’s dad runs PharmPerfect? Do they think it doesn’t matter? Does Gavin believe Kenny’s changed? I certainly don’t. Which leads to the question that’s bugging me most: what’s the real reason he’s helping us?

  • • •

  By the time I return from my walk, the sky is gray, and it smells like it’s about to rain. Gavin’s truck is parked near the barn, and he’s sitting on a bale of straw, waiting for me. His smile is timid, like he’s afraid to be happy in case I’m still in pain. He stands and I inch closer until there’s no space left between us. His arms slide around my waist.

  “You okay?”

  “Much better.”

  “Is your headache gone?”

  “For now.”

  He lets go and we sit on the straw, watching the first flecks of rainfall. It doesn’t take long for the cool air to circulate through the room, and I lean into Gavin, craving his warmth.

  “Where did you go?” I ask, pretending not to know. I want to keep the thread of trust I have with Sasha intact.

  “At first, I planned to see my dad,” he admits. “Then I realized Cherry might have the answer.”

  “Cherry?” My tone is a little snarky. Too late to take it back.

  He gives me a wry smile. “I thought she might be able to access some old files, figure out what medication you need. Looks like you need Propannalean.”

  “But how am I supposed to get a prescription without a doctor? I thought people at the Center didn’t exist to the rest of the world.”

  “I’m working on that.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a bottle with a half dozen pills. “For now, she got some to tide you over.”

  He shakes one into my hand. Immediately, I notice there’s no groove down the middle.

  “Are you sure these are mine? They don’t look the same.”

  He squints at the bottle then reaches in his other pocket. “She gave me a fact sheet. I told her you didn’t need it, but she insisted I take it.”

  I read it out loud. “Take them with a full glass of water. Avoid heavy lifting, driving, and physical activities that might significantly increase your heart rate for at least an hour after ingesting.” I shake my head. “That’s odd.”

  “What’s odd?”

  “I’ve never followed these instructions. I would take my pill in the morning right before my first run of the day. The training never slowed down, never stopped. This doesn’t make sense.”

  Gavin scans the paper. “It says it’s for heart conditions, and this is the drug you took, right?”

  Propannalean. I say the name in my head, replaying the conversation between Ms. Preen and the doctor. “Yes. I’m certain of it.”

  “There must be some mistake. I’ll have it tested.” He puts the instructions down and reaches for the pill in my hand. I close my fist. The thought of having another headache scares me more than what this pill might do to me.

  “Test the other ones if you want to, but let me take this. Please. I don’t know if I can handle having my brain spontaneously combust like it did this morning.”

  Gavin’s forehead creases. He stuffs the instructions in his pocket. “I trust Cherry, but I don’t trust her supplier. They could have given her bunk pills, trying to pass off Tylenol as your meds. Whatever it is, you’re not getting the rest of these,” he rattles the bottle, “until we know for sure what’s in them.”

  “Deal,” I say, swallowing the pill.

  “You’ll tell me if you feel funny?”

  “I don’t think I could hide it from you.” I try to smile, but now that the drug is traveling through my system, I’m worried about my rash decision. He might trust Cherry, but I don’t think she trusts me. What if she gave him something to harm me? I shake the thought out of my head.

  He takes out his keys.

  “You’re leaving again?”

  “I want to make sure what you’re taking is safe,” he says. “Stay close to Sasha in case you have a reaction.” I follow him to the door. The sky is full of black, ominous clouds, and the rain is coming down by the cup-full now. I’m not sure what lab he plans to use, but I imagine a scientist’s son will have access to one. I don’t want him to have to face his father alone.

  “I’ll go with you.” He has one foot outside the barn, just out of reach from the rain. “Paige is still with Ry and I’d like to see how you test it.”

  He looks up at the sky and then at his truck. Taking off his jacket, he wraps it around me. “All right. Let’s go.”

  We run through the rain and he opens my door. By the time he hops in, he looks like he just climbed out of a pool.

  “I dropped my keys,” he says, wiping the rain off his face. I try to give him back his jacket so he can have a layer of warmth, but he waves it off. “Cover your legs with it, you must be freezing.”

  His T-shirt sticks to his body and he pulls it away from his skin over and over again as if the puff of air that gets sucked in each time will dry it. When he catches me smirking at his efforts, he stops. The shirt forms to his torso and my eyes can’t help but drift to his arms. He’s muscular, naturally strong, not from a machine or pill. Not as thick as Parker, but close.

  Parker. As soon as he enters my mind, I look away.

  I know I have to save him, but I don’t want to face him. Not like this. I want my friend to be happy for me. My chest tightens. Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be the case.

  Chapter 16

  “Are we going to your dad’s work?”

  Gavin doesn’t answer at first. “No. We can’t go there. It’s too risky.”

  “Where to, then?”

  “We’ll go to my house. My dad has a lab in the basement.”

  “You don’t need his help?”

  He laughs and turns on the radio. After a few stations, he finds one he likes, but keeps it low enough for us to talk without having to raise our voices.

  “My dad always thought I’d follow in his footsteps. I could have. I have a knack for science.” The last part comes out stiff. “I took my first steps in his lab. I don’t need his help.”

  He starts to fidget, drumming his fingers, fiddling with the tuner. He seems uncomfortable, and if I had to guess, unsure of himself.

  He takes me to Dairy Land, but instead of going inside this time, Gavin pulls into the drive thru and gets me a twist cone. I stare out the window while I eat, reading the glowing billboards that light up the dark sky. I count fourteen ads for drugs and one sign for the ferry.

  “How long have you been taking Propannalean?” he asks.

  I let the ice cream roll over my tongue while I think. “I’ve needed it for as long as I can remember.”

  Gavin juts out his jaw like he’s considering the possibilities, but there’s a sick feeling in my stomach, like a poison has entered my system. If the Center lied about foster families, could they have lied about my medication, too? Would they risk damaging my liver?

  We pull off a busy road, disappearing under a canopy of trees that wind toward Gavin’s childhood home. It looks like a cottage. The cedar roof has a few slats missing and the yard is overgrown. If he told me his father had moved out, abandoned the home after his mother died, I would have believed him.

  The rain is barely a drizzle when we park, but we run to the porch anyway. He lifts a gnome near the doormat and picks up a silver key. His fingers shake as he sticks it in the lock.


  “You know how I like order?” he says.

  I smile. “I might have noticed.”

  “Well, you’re about to see why.”

  He turns the handle and I stifle a gasp. The living room is cluttered with stacks of books, papers, boxes, and garbage. There are sticky notes on the walls, even pen marks where someone—I presume his dad—needed to write down a formula and couldn’t be bothered to sort through the plethora of papers. He chose to share his thoughts with the house instead.

  Gavin grabs my hand to pull me across the threshold, and I step over the stacks of scientific journals and books in the foyer. They’re everywhere, suffocating every inch of space. I cringe, thinking about Gavin growing up here.

  We move as quickly as we can through the living room, but I stop in front of an upright piano against the wall, submerged in clutter. It’s dusty and covered with things that make it more of a table than a musical instrument.

  Notes sound in my head. My fingers move as if I know how to play the tune. Gavin glances back at me, brows mashed together.

  “Are you all right?” he asks.

  I can’t explain why the piano bothers me, so I lie. “I’m fine.”

  We press on through the kitchen where the smell of rotten food assaults my nostrils. I have to hold my breath until he can unlock the basement door. The wood creaks with each step. Halfway down, Gavin pulls on a cord and the basement lights up. The stairwell is cold, and when we reach the bottom I see why. Along the walls there are coolers with see-through glass filled with beakers and test tubes.

  Unlike the rest of the house, this room is spotless. Even the large workstation in the middle looks like it’s been freshly wiped down. The smell of bleach lingers in the air. I’m grateful to be in a room where I can touch the surfaces without worrying about contaminants, but I’m also disgusted. Gavin’s father clearly cares more about his workspace than his living space. What does that say about his priorities?

  I sit on a round stool next to the workstation. Gavin grabs some equipment from one of the cupboards behind him and a beaker from the dishwasher by his knees.

  “This is incredible,” I say in awe.

  “What can I say? My dad’s obsessed with his work.” His tone drips with sarcasm.