“And let me guess. She fell off.”
“Yes. I don’t know much more. She’s been in the ER for over three hours and we still know nothing.” Max sank into the chair next to her bed. Only then did he realize just how tired he was.
“I’m sorry, JD. I know she’s your friend.”
“Our friend,” he corrected.
“Our friend,” she agreed.
“How are you feeling? You seem a lot better today,” Max asked.
“Pretty good. I don’t love the food they’re letting me eat, but tomorrow I get to have a real breakfast. Pancakes.” She smiled. “The doctor’s supposed to be coming in to talk about my new diet any minute now.”
“How’s the pain?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Not too bad. Not as bad as the attacks, so that’s good.” She gave him a thumbs up. “My mom called this morning. First time since the day of the surgery.”
“Since . . . Wow.” Max couldn’t believe it.
“She said that if everything goes well, and I don’t have any more attacks, I can come visit her this summer for a few days.”
That’s big of her. “Great, Izzy.”
“It kind of depends on my little sister Kelley too. She’s trying out for Summer Stock Theater and it’s like a forty-five minute drive from their house. If she’s accepted, my mom will have to drive her back and forth and she doesn’t feel all that driving would be good for me. So it all depends on whether Kelley makes the troupe.” She smiled, despite the pain in her eyes.
That is messed up on so many levels.
“Hello-Hello.” Her dad strutted in the room, girlfriendless, and leaned over to give Izzy a kiss. She quickly diverted her head and it landed on her ear.
“JD. I hope the other guy looks worse,” he joked.
Max half-smiled. “Hello, sir.”
“Hate to chase you out, but we’re expecting the doctor for a consultation.”
Max stood at the not so subtle hint. “I’d better get back downstairs.” He leaned in to hug her, but Izzy shook her head ever so slightly. “I’ll stop by later.”
“JD, Izzy needs her rest. Why don’t you wait until tomorrow?” Izzy’s dad squeezed her hand softly. She jerked it away.
“See you later,” she said defiantly.
“Sounds like a plan.” Max smiled broadly and left.
He jogged down the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevators. He passed a nurse as he headed down the hall for the ER.
“You need to wear your badge,” she said, tugging the name badge clipped to her pocket. “You’ll get fired if the big wigs catch you without it.”
At first Max had no idea what she was talking about until he remembered he had on hospital scrubs. She thought he worked there. Max, not wanting to take the time to explain, answered, “Thanks,” and continued down the hall.
He entered the private waiting area as Vice Principal Volkel demanded everyone’s attention. “Since Principle Harper is out of town, the family has asked me to read a statement they’ve prepared for everyone,” she said. She held up a yellow slip of paper and began.
“‘Thank you all for your love and concern for our daughter, Emma McKay. She has suffered a broken left arm and a fractured left collar bone. She has a concussion, and is in a coma. She will remain in the ICU for now.’”
Coma? Max didn’t like the sound of that at all.
“‘Please remember her in your prayers,’” Mrs. Volkel continued. “‘We’ll update you as we receive any new information. Thank you again for your support. Bev and Martin McKay.’”
Mrs. Volkel tucked the note in the pocket of her bright red jacket. “We’ve set up a few rooms at the high school for everyone to gather, easing the burden from the hospital. We’ll be providing pizza and soda. Also, the school’s counselors will be there.”
Slowly the room emptied as everyone headed over to the school. “JD, I’ll give you a ride.” Jeff stood by the door, looking as worried as Max felt.
“I’m not going. I have a friend still here. I need to go upstairs and see her,” he said, adding, “Thanks again for helping me earlier.”
After a couple hours of mulling around the waiting room and reading a few of the five year old magazines, Max went up to see Izzy again and spent the evening playing board games with her.
“Izzy, you suck at Monopoly,” Max teased, as he divided his huge wad of cash back in the correct slots.
“Did you ever stop to think I let you win so you have to put all the money away?” she asked.
Max’s head popped up. “You do?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I’m not the one that sucks at Sorry.”
“Izzy, Izzy. Sorry is a game of chance. Monopoly is all skill,” Max pointed out, setting the lid on the box.
“Yeah, it was skill that landed you on every single property from Pacific Avenue to Boardwalk. The most expensive side of the board.”
Max grinned. “I’m not going to lie, that was pretty sweet.”
Izzy laughed through a yawn. “I’m tired, JD. Do you mind if we call it a night?”
“No. I need to—”
A perky redheaded nurse came in. “Time for your medication. Oh, hi. Are you new here?” she asked Max as Izzy took her pills.
“What?” he asked.
“Your scrubs, JD,” Izzy reminded him.
“Oh. No, I don’t work here,” he explained to the nurse. “My clothes are covered in, um, stuff, and I was given these to wear.”
“You fooled me.” The nurse checked Izzy’s IV before going on to the next room.
“JD, I just thought of something. Maybe you can sneak in and see Emma. That nurse is right. In those scrubs you look like you work here,” Izzy said in a low whisper.
Max loved the idea. Why hadn’t he thought of it? “I’ll need to stay here until late. I’m sure her parents are still here.”
“Call your mom and tell her you are staying with me again. Tell her I’m having a bad day or something.” Izzy handed him the phone.
Reluctantly, Mel okayed his wish to stay with Izzy overnight. Max sat in the recliner watching reruns of Seinfeld long after Izzy fell asleep.
At two in the morning, he quietly climbed out of the chair and crept down the hall toward the elevators, pushing the down button when he got there.
“JD?”
Max slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from yelling out. He turned to see Dr. Colter from the ER standing behind him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He tucked a chart under his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Max said as the doors opened. Both Max and the doctor stepped onto the elevator.
“What are you doing here so late?”
“I’m staying with a friend who had surgery and got a little hungry,” he said. “I’m headed down to the vending machines.” Max reached for the sixth floor button.
“Vending machines are on the first floor.” Dr. Colter reached around JD and pressed the one. “How’s the head? Any dizziness?” He leaned closer, examining the wound near his eyebrow.
“Nope, but the eye’s turning black and blue like you said.”
The door opened and Max stepped off, as did Dr. Colter. Max stood there not knowing which way to go. He needed to find the stairs and head back up to the sixth floor.
“JD, the machines are this way.” He pointed to the left. “I’ll show you. You’ve given me the munchies with your talk of food.” He rubbed his stomach. “I hope they have Oreos.”
Max reluctantly followed. Dr. Colter’s brown leather clogs made a hollow clunking sound against the linoleum floor. At the end of the hallway sat a row of four vending machines offering everything from tuna sandwiches wrapped in plastic to dry looking donuts. The doctor went to the last machine and slipped a dollar bill in the slot. A small pack of Oreo cookies dropped to the bottom. He reached in through the door and snagged them.
“Can you believe they charge you a dollar for four l
ittle cookies?” He shrugged. “Have a good night, JD.”
“You, too.” Max waited a few more minutes before hustling to the stairs and racing up the six flights to the ICU. Huffing and puffing, he stood in the dusky stairwell until he caught his breath. He opened the door a crack, checking for Em’s parents. Max watched as Marty led Bev to the elevators.
“We need sleep, sweetheart. They’ll call us if . . .” Max heard her mother’s sharp intake of breath. “I mean when she wakes up.”
“What if she doesn’t? She’s been so obsessed with Max’s death, maybe she’s hoping to join him.” Bev punched the elevator button several times.
“Bev, don’t invite trouble. We have enough as it is.”
Max opened the steel door and stepped into the ICU floor as the elevator doors safely closed.
He quietly walked the ten yards to the ICU unit, picking up a chart from the counter at the nurses’ station. He didn’t read it, but he pretended to. He circled around the unit searching for Em’s room.
“JD.” Max froze. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here. The ICU has a strict family only policy.” Dr. Colter took the chart from his hand.
“I’m sorry. I’m worried about her. She was acting all crazy yesterday, talking about her boyfriend that died last month and wishing she’d died, too. I just want to tell her to keep fighting and not give up,” Max blurted out.
He watched the kind doctor’s eyes search his face. “I can’t let you go in there. I’m sorry.” Max’s shoulders dropped. “Now, I need to sign some charts. It’ll take me twenty, maybe thirty seconds. I’ll be over here,” he pointed to a small alcove with a desk. “Do not go near room 467, bed B. Do I make myself clear?” He winked.
“Yes, sir. Perfectly.” The second the doctor turned around, Max darted to room 467. His stomach clenched as he approached bed B. Em’s bed. Her pale skin unnerved him, as did the IV tethered to her arm. He could see her heartbeat on a small screen next to her bed.
“Em,” he said. “I only have a few seconds. Please don’t give up. Izzy needs you. She’s not doing so well. And I need you, too. People are starting to be nice to me now that you’re my friend. Not all of them, but some.” She didn’t respond, not that Max thought she would, but he did hope. He heard Dr. Colter’s clogs approaching the room. Max bent down and kissed her forehead. “Max would want you to stay, Em. He always admired your strength. Please fight.”
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Colter said.
Max nodded, setting her hand down gently and giving it one last squeeze. Dr. Colter put his arm around Max’s shoulder as he escorted him to the elevator. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you, JD.”
Max shook his head. “No, I’m the lucky one.”
Chapter 23
“Five minutes in the shower, fat boy.” Tim eyeballed Max’s face. “That beating looks good on you.” Tim flashed a malevolent grin as he stepped out the front door on his way to work.
“Drop dead, buttface.” The comment was pure JD. Max couldn’t remember ever having said the words buttface.
He laughed. JD grew stronger with each day and it made Max proud. “Next time say it loud enough that he can hear you, buddy.”
Still tired from sleeping in a chair all night, Max contemplated crawling into bed and going back to sleep. But he didn’t want to upset Mel, nor did he want her to forbid him from going to the hospital after school. He forced himself into the bathroom.
The mirror reflected the angry purple and red bruises on the left side of his rib cage. The ones on the right were smaller, but hurt just as badly. Max set the water to cool, still hot from the early morning walk home from the hospital, and climbed in, wincing as the water hit his torso. He adjusted the flow to little more than a mist. He gingerly washed his battered body and hair. The entire torture session lasted three minutes. To spite Tim, he ran the water while dressing and brushing his teeth.
“Take that, buttface.” This time it was all Max spitting out the insult.
Having to move much slower with his injuries put him behind, and he arrived at the bus as the last student got on. He kept his head down and climbed the steps, not wanting to deal with the taunts. Because he was late, the front seats were taken. Sucking in a deep breath he forged his way toward the back. He had to endure a few Quasimodo comparisons, but no one tried to trip him. When he passed Nancy Daybell, she scooted over and smiled. The only other seat vacant, besides the back row, was next to Greg.
“Hi, JD. You can sit here if you’d like.” Pretty Nancy, with her curly brown hair, smiled at him. He glanced over at Greg, who sneered. Max, not being a fool, sat next to Nancy.
“I heard about what happened to your friend Emma yesterday. How is she doing?” Nancy’s look of concern seemed genuine.
“Not sure. We haven’t been told much yet.” Max slid his backpack between his legs on the floor.
“She’s very nice. I hope she’s okay,” she said. “What happened to you?”
“I ran into a guy’s fist and feet a few times,” he joked.
“JD, that’s horrible. Why did he beat you up?”
“Because I’m breathing, I guess,” he said, shrugging. “Why aren’t you and Greg sitting together?”
“He’s a jerk,” she said simply. Max’s eyes popped open wide. She appeared embarrassed for all of one-point-five seconds before they both laughed.
Max clutched his ribs. “Please don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much.”
“Sorry.” She pinched her lips shut, trying not to laugh.
When they got to school, Max went straight to PE, head down, as he maneuvered the halls. Most of the other students were too busy hurrying to their own classes to worry about him and his face. He slipped off his shirt, very carefully, and hung it on the hook in the locker.
“JD, how’s the—whoa.” Jeff stepped back. “I had no idea he hurt you this badly.” Jeff scanned his torso as Max slipped his PE shirt on.
“No more walking home, JD. I’m serious.” Jeff reached into his backpack and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. He jotted something down and handed it to Max.
“Here’s my cell in case I’m not here working out.”
“Thanks, Jeff.”
“Have you heard anything about Em?” Max shook his head. “Me neither. I’m going there after school. Do you want a ride over?”
“Thanks.” As soon as Max finished dressing, Coach called him and Jeff to his office.
“Have a seat, guys.” He closed the door behind them. Jeff headed straight for Coach’s leather desk chair. “Morgan, don’t even think about it,” he said without turning around. Jeff came and sat next to Max on the hard metal folding chairs.
“I heard about what happened yesterday.” He frowned. “I guess I should clarify. At the moment I’m referring to what happened to you, JD. I’m very sorry. How are you doing?”
“I’m good. I’m really worried about Em though.”
“As we all are.” He sat in his chair and leaned forward on his desk. “My brother is a lawyer. I believe I’ve mentioned that before. He happened to be visiting a client at the county jail when they brought Nate Stackman in this morning. He’s claiming you two came after him with bats.”
“I wouldn’t waste Big Berta on a scumbag like him,” Jeff grinned, tipping his chair back.
“What about the gun he pulled on us?” Max pointed out.
“I just wanted to give you the heads up so you know what he’s claiming happened. Nevertheless, it seems Stackman went a little crazy when the police tried to arrest him. He punched one of the officers in the mouth, knocking out a front tooth.” Coach sat back. “And that was after they chased him down several blocks. It’s not looking too good for Nate.”
Instead of calming JD, the news upset him. Max knew exactly why. “When he gets out on bail, he’s going to come after me.”
Coach shook his head. “He’s not going to be getting out any time soon, JD. His father is refusing to post bail. And I doubt any of his friends
will have the kind of money needed to post it either. You don’t punch a cop in the mouth, let alone a female cop, and expect to get a mere slap on the wrist.”
“He punched a woman?” both Max and Jeff said simultaneously.
“Yup. JD, I wanted to make sure you’re alright, and by looking at your face, I’m thinking maybe no PE for you today.”
“You think his face looks bad, you should see his ribs,” Jeff pointed out.
“Okay, no PE. Period.” He stood and came around to the front of the desk. “Jeff, I want to thank you for defending JD. I’ve heard of things like this happening and people turning their backs and walking away, afraid to get involved. You’re a good role model, and I appreciate that. I know after Max died, as a team we agreed not to choose a new team captain, but I feel after this you deserve the title.”
Jeff shook his head. “Coach, no. Max was my friend. It doesn’t feel right just brushing him aside. It could hurt the team morale.”
“What about co-captain?” Max suggested.
“I like that idea, JD. What do you think, Jeff?” He shrugged, hesitantly. “Think about it and let me know.” Coach stood. “Alright, Jeff, head on out. JD, change back into your street clothes.”
Jeff left quickly. Max had to move slowly.
“JD. Are you okay? Emotionally, I mean? I know we’ve talked somewhat about your home life before. Are things getting better”?
“Slowly,” Max replied.
“I’m here if you need a shoulder.” Coach went to pat him on the back then stopped. “You probably don’t want me doing that today, do you?”
“You got that right,” Max grinned. “Oh, and the next time you decide I can sit out PE, can you tell me before I change my clothes?”
After school, Max and Jeff headed for the hospital. “I heard she’s doing better,” Jeff said as they walked down the hall. “Some of the other cheerleaders talked to her dad today.”
“Really?” Max said. They went straight to the ICU and proceeded down the hall toward Em’s room.
The receptionist, a young red-head named Candice, according to her name badge, smiled at Jeff. “Just a minute. Only family is allowed on the unit. Are you related to a patient here? Max shook his head. “I’m sorry. Family only.”
Not So Easy Page 20