Just me and the clock.
And more decisions.
Decisions I wasn’t in the right mind to make.
“Don’t!” Mrs. Unifelt screamed. “Don’t let her die!”
I grabbed her arms and tried to pull her away from the hospital bed as the doctor rushed to Kimmy’s side.
“Get her out of here!” He pointed at me. Mrs. Unifelt was strong, and at eighteen I still hadn’t packed on enough muscle to pry her body away from her daughter. She was fierce that way, like a mother cub protecting her young.
“You have to do what you can!” Mrs. Unifelt yelled again. “Please!” Tears streamed down her face and landed on my arms. Her tears were warm as they slid down my skin, but I was cold, shivering, dying right along with Kimmy.
I knew it was for the best. Kimmy wouldn’t want to live that way, trapped inside her own body, a vegetable. We’d never talked about it, but I couldn’t imagine her wanting to live, yet never actually being free. To never run again, never have kids, never be normal again.
“We’ll try,” the doctor finally said. “But you have to leave.”
Hours later, they let us see her.
I wasn’t prepared for her to look so normal.
She looked like my Kimmy, though her face was still bruised, her jaw locked shut.
“Talk to her,” the nurse said. “She can hear your voice.”
“Kimmy?” I whispered. “It’s Parker… I love you, Kimmy.”
Her eyelids moved and then flickered open. She looked horror-stricken, like she’d been to hell and back.
Her blood pressure skyrocketed as the heart monitor beeped.
“No.” she mouthed. “No, no!” Her head moved back and forth.
And then the seizure hit.
The next time she opened her eyes, they were empty.
The girl I loved was gone.
I slowly made my way back into the rec room. Most of the patients were watching a movie.
Not Princess.
She was positioned right next to the window, and it was open.
“Shit!” I ran across the room and pulled the window closed. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Saylor blinked innocently. “She said she missed the outside.”
“Are you stupid?” I roared. “She can’t go outside! If she goes outside she could die!”
“But—”
“Just go away. You’ve done enough.”
“Gabe, I—”
“Go!” I yelled so loud my throat hurt.
Saylor took a step back, then two, then turned for the door and ran.
“You shouldn’t yell, Parker,” Princess said in a quiet voice.
“Yeah, well… she shouldn’t make me yell.”
Princess’s face lit up. “The air feels nice.”
“About that…” Here went nothing. “They’re going to have to put some air inside you. You’d like that, right? Since you miss outside so much?”
Her face pinched. “Will it hurt?”
“Nah, it will feel like a kiss.”
“I miss your kiss.” Her voice sounded almost normal, like if I closed my eyes it would all be some crazy nightmare and she’d be whole again. In my arms, I’d kiss her lips, I’d tell her I loved her, we’d laugh, make love, and everything would be fine.
“Parker.” The high pitched voice was back. “Open your eyes, silly. No sleeping.”
“Right.” My voice wavered. “No sleeping.”
Truth? It had been four years since I’d slept peacefully. Four years since I could look at myself in the mirror and not feel hate.
Now? I didn’t even bother looking. Not unless I had to. I knew what my reflection looked like. Pain. Sorrow. Guilt. But worst of all? Fake. My reflection was fake.
I wheeled Princess back to her room and dialed Wes’s number.
“Yeah?”
“I’m ready.”
“For?”
“The talk.”
“Ah, man, can’t someone else explain how babies are made?”
“Cute.”
“You’re smiling.”
“Shut up.”
He sighed. “So talk.”
“Meet me at the campus Starbucks.”
“Alone or with Kiersten?”
“Better bring her. I’m going to need both of you if I have any hope of staying alive… Kiersten would kill me, we both know this.”
“See you in ten.”
Chapter Seventeen
Everyone wears masks. They come in all different shapes and sizes. The only problem with trying one on — is that it fits. How easily we fall into the trap that we don’t have to be who we really are. How easily we convince ourselves that we need to cover up what we were born to be. It’s a tragedy — that fear keeps us from our destiny. It’s hell — when the person you were created to be — is covered up by some cheap imposter —Wes M.
Gabe
I walked into the coffee shop like I was marching to my death. I knew Wes knew. I wondered what was worse. Him knowing and me not telling? Or me actually telling him the entire truth and having him look at me with that look. Epic disappointment in my character.
I hated that damn look. It’s the same look her mom gave me that day in the hospital. The same look my dad gave me when I gave up my shit career and moved to Seattle.
Pity? I hated it. But someone judging my character? Someone finally discovering I wasn’t even close to who I said I was. Well, hell. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that convo with Wes. He was the closest thing to family I had and now I was throwing a giant-assed wrench in our friendship.