I gave him a few minutes before I left and glanced around several times on the way to our car, remembering the car door shutting I’d heard earlier. I needed to get Melissa out of this, then the football team and the rest of the cheerleaders, and then I’d try to figure out a way to help out Tyler. One thing at a time.
Chapter Fifteen
Melissa didn’t hesitate when we walked in the front door and trudged to my room. I knew I was still exhausted from fixing things and I was pretty sure she was still exhausted from the sorrow feeding on her saddest memories.
But she hesitated as she entered my room. For a moment, I felt ashamed at how it looked compared to her place. The moment passed quickly. My mom had been there when I needed her. Her mother was on some vacation while she was losing it.
My mom came in with a few couch cushions and tossed them on the floor for me, then went out for sheets and an extra pillow. Twiggy ambled in behind her, up way past her bedtime. Her tail wagged as she spotted first me, then Melissa.
“Twiggy,” I said as Twiggy ignored the fact she was an oversized Lab and tried to curl up on Melissa’s lap.
Melissa ran her fingers through Twiggy’s light brown fur and the tension on her face eased. “Hi, Twiggy.” She scratched behind Twiggy’s floppy ear and Twiggy gave an appreciative lick. Mom waited for us to settle in, Twiggy firmly planted across Melissa’s feet.
“Goodnight, girls.” She turned off the light, and it didn’t take long before I drifted off again.
.o0o.
I woke up to my knee hitting the floor, and grumbled. Why was my knee bashing against the floor? “You finally up?” Melissa asked from above me.
I groaned and opened an eye. Melissa sat on my bed with my computer open, watching the news. I glanced at my cell phone. It was only eight in the morning and I could still use another few hours. That was before I caught sight of the replay from last night’s football game. The news report kept repeating the commentator’s comment, “It appears that Davis ‘The Tractor’ Jones has laid down on the twenty-five yard line, and it looks like he’s making a snow angel. You heard me right folks—a snow angel.”
Wow, it was bad, really bad. No wonder they thought they were on drugs.
“So, you ready to try again?”
I flinched when the camera zoomed in on one of the football players sitting down on the ground and rocking.
“Yeah.” I picked up my laptop and moved it away from her. It was all I could do not to say, “Mine. Private.”
Melissa leaned over the side of the bed, grabbed the bleach bottle, and unscrewed the cap. “Your mom made breakfast, but you were still asleep.” She set the bottle in my lap.
I smiled and shook my head.
I dipped a couple of fingers in the bottle and rested my other one in hers. I could feel the creature surging beneath Melissa’s skin. It had spread further last night, digging its tentacles in like spikes. It was so strong, I was surprised she wasn’t curled up in a ball. Twiggy lifted her head from her perch at the end of the bed but didn’t move. Maybe that’s why.
This was going to take more than one clean out, but I wasn’t going to tell Melissa that just yet. I might not be able to get to the football players today. I’d need to spend most of my energy on her.
I started with a small strand, like pulling the fluff of a dandelion. It didn’t budge. I had that same sensation of being a ghost, unable to affect anything I touched. I swallowed and went deeper, focused harder. The pounding in my head started up again, and I shoved that away too. I couldn’t do this to Melissa another time.
I swiped, reaching for the emotions that gave it grounding. That felt a little more corporeal. I sighed and leaned in, digging deeper even as I heard her gasp. She started to cry, the same deep sobs as yesterday and huffed, “this is the worst birthday ever!”
At the sound of crying, my mom knocked and stepped in without waiting for an answer. At the sight of the bleach bottle, she softly shut the door behind her, and came over to my side.
Melissa’s parents left her on her birthday? I looked back at my mom and she nodded. We were definitely going to need to fix this, after I took care of the little problem at hand.
I wanted to pull out and let Melissa be, let things move on, but I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. This was almost beyond what I could do. It might already be too late.
There, deep in the core, I found what fueled this crazy emotional virus, and growled. Instead of making me want to cry, it made me angry. I wanted to scream, “You are better than that. He has no right to hit you,” but I’d address that later. Right now, I had to uncurl these sucking tentacles and make Melissa whole again.
At the very end of the tendrils, I started to pull. I wasn’t as steady as I had been last night, but at least I was no longer swiping at air. I tugged and felt her physically try to squirm away from me.
“Sorry,” I whispered. Speaking aloud seemed so weird when I was so deep in a person’s soul. Just thinking it didn’t seem adequate. I pulled again, and she screamed. It jarred me so much, I almost let go and lost the connection. It was too intermeshed. I couldn’t remove one without the other. How would that affect her?
There was no choice. I tugged harder, this time like ripping off a band-aid. Just get it over with fast. Melissa swayed, making the bed move. I held tighter and kept pulling. A root came up. I felt like I was trying to take a mass of choking vines and pull it out one root at a time. I shoved what I had into the bleach bottle and started for a second strand.
“No, no more.” Melissa pulled harder against my grip.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to get it out. Remember last time, remember how much better you felt when I finished last time?” I hoped to soothe her. I couldn’t afford for her to scream again. If my dad came in, we’d have to stop and then be back at the beginning.
“I can’t do this much longer,” she choked out. I nodded and searched for the next root, a smaller one. Her father is yelling at her.
“You are so much better than that. You didn’t deserve that.” I tried to soothe before I pulled.
“He’s right. I should have passed that test.” She shook her head.
“Did you do the best you could?” my mother asked.
I knew my mom was there but her speaking almost broke my concentration. After a moment of silence, Melissa whispered, “Yes.”
“Then Lilly is right. You didn’t deserve that. You are good enough.” She moved over to stand behind Melissa and smoothed her hair.
I shivered at a new sensation. The roots were loosening, almost shriveling. I pulled before she could rethink this and the emotion latched on again.
I shifted back to another big one. “You are pretty enough,” I said firmly. I couldn’t believe I had to say it aloud. I couldn’t believe a mother would tell her daughter to get plastic surgery. I thought Melissa was at least twice as pretty as I was. How could she think this about herself no matter what her mother said? “Melissa, your chin is just fine. You made the right choice.” The roots remained firm.
I opened an eye, met my mother’s gaze, and nodded.
“Melissa, I can’t speak for your mother. I don’t know what she was thinking when she told you that. But what you need to understand is mothers aren’t always right, and Lilly knows this. I thought by not telling Lilly about what I could do that I could make her life better. It didn’t help because she felt like she couldn’t come to me with this. Melissa, you are just fine the way you are. There are people out there that have to deal with far worse than a chin that only she thinks is too big. If you are okay with your chin, it doesn’t matter what anyone else says. Don’t let anyone tell you that you aren’t good enough, not me, not your mother, and not yourself.”
The roots loosened even as I felt the depth of what was being said. It wasn’t just her chin. It was her weight, her hair, her very thoughts. I am not enough.
“You are,” I said, leaving no room for argument. Even as I said it, I thought of all the things tha
t dragged me down. I can’t say I didn’t feel half of them myself. Thankfully, my mother had never told me she agreed and reinforced what I felt. That blow might have been too much.
I pulled, knowing I could not remove every bit, but I could remove most of it. The rest would be her own battle. If she could curl the roots, then she could kill it. Had I ever killed all my doubts about my own appearance?
The fight seemed easier after that. I had thought Melissa very self-confident but I was feeling all her insecurities, a lot of which she didn’t even realize were there. I wondered what I had buried deep within me. By the time I finished, I had curled back up on my makeshift mattress and slept.
.o0o.
“Your phone is ringing,” Melissa said, shaking me.
“Later,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side and right off the cushions. I groaned as I hit my knee again. She laughed, and I debated throwing one of the pillows at her.
“It’s Tyler.” She held my phone out. This woke me up.
“Hey.” I wished I had started out the conversation with something better like, “Hey Charming, rescued any princesses lately?”
“Hey, I’m borrowing Caitlyn’s phone so I don’t have long, but we’ve got a way to smuggle you in to see the football team for a little bit. They put them all in the same area in the hospital.”
“Perfect. Wait, did you say Caitlyn’s phone?”
“Yeah, we’ll talk later. She’ll be here when you arrive. I’ve got to go.” The phone went dead. I wished we could’ve said more.
“So?” Melissa asked when I set my phone down.
“Caitlyn’s going to get us into the ward where they are keeping the football players so I can finish what I started last night.” I got up and went for the closet to grab some clothes.
“I’d like to talk to Caitlyn too.” The strength with which she unzipped her suitcase didn’t bode well for my old friend.
“Truce, Melissa, or you can’t come. I can’t worry about you and the players. After that, it’s between you two.”
“Just for the hospital, and that’s it.”
I didn’t bother to respond. I wished Caitlyn could feel half of what I’d just felt so she’d understand what she’d done. I had my own beef with her actions.
.o0o.
It was a little after one o’clock when I pulled into the hospital and parked. I glanced at Melissa.
“Hey, I said I wouldn’t do anything,” Melissa said as she got out. She didn’t look like she’d wait, with the glare she was giving Caitlyn, but she had promised, so I’d have to hope she’d follow through.
Caitlyn stood outside the entrance. “Come with me,” she said, leading us down several hallways before swerving into an empty room.
Inside, doors led to adjoining rooms. “Are they on the other side?” I whispered as I approached one.
“No, the cart.” She pointed to a food cart parked there.
“Wait, what? Really?” I eyed the cart.
“Yeah, I took the trays out so you’ll fit in there.”
“And won’t people be wondering why I’m being wheeled around in a food cart?”
A short laugh escaped Melissa. I frowned. She tried to smooth her features, but she was still grinning pretty wide. Stick Melissa in a cart and see how she liked it. I knew I was short, but I wasn’t like a yoga master or anything.
“No,” I groaned.
Caitlyn smiled. “I talked to Jacob this morning. He and a few of the others are going to try and make a break for it, to cause a distraction. While everyone is going after them, we’re going to go in and take care of the other ones.”
“Okay, let’s get this cart rolling,” I said. If they tried to take a picture of me, I was going to smash their phones.
The second we entered, Jacob pounded on the top of my cart. “Good luck,” he whispered before walking out. It seemed at odds to Melissa’s memory when he’d hit her.
I peeked out through a slit in the sheet. A skinny guard who looked not much older than Jacob adjusted his badge and stepped in front of him. Garrett stepped out and tossed Skull a roll of gauze. I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. Six rolls later, they were off.
“Okay, you can come out now,” Caitlyn whispered. It took me a few moments to unfold, in which I scooched until I almost fell out. I less than gracefully stood and walked the bleach bottle over to a set of folding chairs.
“Mike, you’re next.” I settled into one of the chairs by the window. Mike plunked down beside me.
“Is this going to work?” He eyed the bottle.
“Yeah, it’ll work.” I dipped my fingers in and took his hand. Falling down the rabbit hole was easier this time. It hadn’t dug as deep into Mike as it had into Melissa. The core was just one solid weed, as thick as its owner’s solid neck.
A picture of a test floated up. “Mike, you’re not stupid.”
“The numbers are all mixed up. No one else has problems with it,” he said. I could feel the sadness swirl around and dredge up memory after to memory that went against what I was telling him. What did I know? I was just some crazy psychic girl.
I pushed down a smile. So that’s what they were calling me. “Mike, you’re not stupid. We all struggle with a lot of stuff. I can’t hike, not even sort of. I tried it and only made it halfway up Timpanogos. Your thing isn’t math—I get it. But it doesn’t make you stupid.”
“You don’t know,” he growled. The roots dug in deeper, tapping into anger for protection—an anger directed at himself.
“Mike, who won the Super Bowl in 1981?”
“The Oakland Raiders,” he threw out without hesitation.
“And who was their quarterback?”
“Jim Plunket, MVP.” He grinned.
“And who is your favorite player?”
He rattled off a few names, only one of which I recognized.
“And who has scored the most runs?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “In football, you score touchdowns.”
“See you knew those things without even thinking about it, and I have no clue what a field goal is. You’re not stupid, but if math is something you need help on, we can help. As long as you promise to explain why people can kick the ball sometimes but the rest of the time, they run with it.”
He smiled, and the roots shook. I yanked it out and shoved it into the ever-growing mass inside the bottle. Good thing Mom had moved it to the large bleach bottle because I don’t think the water bottle could have handled it.
Mike pounded me on the back as he left. I’m pretty sure I had a few internal organs misplaced in the process. I should go into counseling or something. That’s what this was, basically: listening, knowing what fed us, and telling ourselves we aren’t as horrible as we think.
“So, Jack, hold out your wrist and let’s talk.”
I was swaying by the time I finished the last player. I had to fight to keep my eyes open. Every nerve in my body screamed at me with exhaustion, and yet this was not the time to conk out. It would make Jacob’s escape for nothing. I wobbled as I stood and within seconds, I had a herd of football players surrounding me. Mike was practically holding me upright. This wasn’t so bad. I could get used to this.
I had just finished cramming myself back into the small cart space when the doctors directed the escapees back inside. Caitlyn leaned forward and kissed Mike like he was her last hope as the first doctor walked in.
“What are you doing here?” the doctor snapped. I wished I could see the look on her face, but all I could make out was Mike’s through the small hole. He didn’t seem to mind the whole exchange in the least.
“Just came to say hi to my boyfriend.” I know she was winging it, but I hoped she’d move from Drew to Mike. I covered my mouth to keep from laughing as Mike stepped closer to her, like he had when he’d been trying to protect the quarterback the night before. At least this time, he didn’t have tears running down his face. Thankfully the doctors didn’t know he was just a big teddy bear inside.
&nb
sp; “Well, you are going to need to leave. Now!” the doctor ordered. I couldn’t see his face, but his tone made me glad I was hiding underneath the sheet.
“Yes, sir,” Caitlyn said. The snark wasn’t lost on me. She started pushing me toward the door, but then stopped walking. “That doctor just told me to leave.” Her voice didn’t sound as confident as it had before. My stomach dropped.
“These boys are in quarantine until such time as we discover what happened last night and confirm it’s not communicable. For now, you’ll stay in here, and we’ll make arrangements for this evening.”
“But Jacob and Garrett have been running around the hospital for the last thirty minutes, at least.”
“The hospital staff took proper precautions, and the civilians they came in contact with have also been asked to stay for their health and safety.”
“What if I refuse?” I wanted to groan but bit my lip and waited. Could they really quarantine us over a few football players flipping out, or was this because it was so close to Tyler’s incident?
“We’ll contact your parents. As I said, if it is something communicable, you’ll be happy you’re here.”
“They look just fine to me now,” she said.
“She’s right. Those left in here do seem less reactive,” another doctor said, taking in the room full of now-calm boys. No one was crying or punching anybody.
“Do you know Tyler Marrin?” the doctor who stopped her from leaving asked.
“He goes to school. He’s the idiot who fell off a cliff,” she said with a half-laugh.
“And were you in contact with him before or after he fell?”
“No, we run in different circles. I’m not a cheerleader of anything.” This was going downhill fast.
“Caitlyn, you got your phone?” Mike asked, breaking up the rising tension. “Listen, we’ve already proved there were no drugs in our system, and at this point, you’re keeping us here against our will. Now, I can call my parents and explain that you are bullying me and my girlfriend or you can let her go and I’ll stick around while you try to figure out what’s going on. If you don’t quarantine the whole crowd, you can’t keep her.”
A Touch of Water (Touch of Magic Book 1) Page 11