I pick Lucas up after school and stop by Nonny’s hospital room before ourparents get there. She’d been asleep most of the time we visited all week,but today she’s sitting up in bed with the TV remote in hand. “Thistelevision only gets three channels,” she complains as Lucas and I hover inthe doorway. “We might as well be in 1985. And the food is terrible. Lucas,do you have any candy?”<\/p>\n
“No, ma’am,” Lucas says, flipping his too-long hair out of his eyes.Nonny turns a hopeful face to me, and I’m struck by how old she looks. Imean, sure, she’s well into her eighties, but she’s always had so muchenergy that I never really noticed. It hits me now that even though herdoctor says she’s recovering well, we’ll be lucky to go a few years beforesomething like this happens again.<\/p>\n
And then at some point, she’s not gonna be around at all.<\/p>\n
“I got nothin’. Sorry,” I say, dropping my head to hide my stinging eyes.Nonny lets out a theatrical sigh. “Well, goddamn. You boys are pretty, butnot helpful from a practical standpoint.” She rummages on the side tablenext to her bed and finds a rumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Lucas, godownstairs to the gift shop and buy three Snickers bars. One for each of us.Keep the change and take your time.”<\/p>\n
“Yes, ma’am.” Lucas’s eyes gleam as he calculates his profit. He’s outthe door in a flash, and Nonny settles back against a stack of hospitalpillows.<\/p>\n
“Off he goes to pad his pockets, bless his mercenary little heart,” she saysfondly.<\/p>\n
“Are you supposed to be eating candy right now?” I ask.<\/p>\n
“Of course not. But I want to hear how you’re doing, darlin’. Nobodytells me anything but I hear things.”<\/p>\n
I lower myself into the side chair next to her bed, eyes on the floor. Idon’t trust myself to look at her yet. “You should rest, Nonny.””Cooper, this was the least dangerous heart attack in cardiac history. Ablip on the monitor. Too much bacon, that’s all. Catch me up on the SimonKelleher situation. I promise you it will not cause a relapse.”I blink a few times and imagine myself getting ready to throw a slider:straightening my wrist, placing my fingers on the outer portion of thebaseball, letting the ball roll off my thumb and index finger. It works; myeyes dry and my breathing evens out, and I can finally meet Nonny’s eyes.”It’s a goddamn mess.”<\/p>\n
She sighs and pats my hand. “Oh, darlin’. Of course it is.”I tell her everything: How Simon’s rumors about us are all over schoolnow, and how the police set up shop in the administrative offices today andinterviewed everybody we know. Plus lots of people we don’t know. HowCoach Ruffalo hasn’t pulled me aside yet to ask whether I’m on the juicebut I’m sure he will soon. How we had a sub for astronomy because Mr.Avery was holed up in another room with two police officers. Whether hewas being questioned like we’d been or giving some kind of evidenceagainst us, I couldn’t tell.<\/p>\n
Nonny shakes her head when I finish. She can’t set her hair here the wayshe does at home, and it bobs around like loose cotton. “I could not besorrier you got pulled into this, Cooper. You of all people. It’s not right.”I wait for her to ask me, but she doesn’t. So I finally say–tentatively,because after spending days with lawyers it feels wrong to state anythinglike an actual fact–“I didn’t do what they say, Nonny. I didn’t use steroidsand I didn’t hurt Simon.”<\/p>\n
“Well, for goodness’ sake, Cooper.” Nonny brushes impatiently at herhospital blanket. “You don’t have to tell me that.”I swallow hard. Somehow, the fact that Nonny accepts my word withoutquestion makes me feel guilty. “The lawyer’s costing a fortune and she’snot helping. Nothing’s getting better.”<\/p>\n
“Things’ll get worse before they get better,” Nonny says placidly. “That’show it goes. And don’t you worry about the cost. I’m payin’ for it.”A fresh wave of guilt hits me. “Can you afford that?””Course I can. Your grandfather and I bought a lot of Apple stock in thenineties. Just because I didn’t hand it all over to your father to buy aMcMansion in this overpriced town doesn’t mean I couldn’t have. Now.Tell me something I don’t know.”<\/p>\n
I’m not sure what she means. I could mention how Jake is freezing outAddy and all our friends are joining in, but that’s too depressing. “Not muchelse to tell, Nonny.”<\/p>\n
“How’s Keely handling all this?”<\/p>\n
“Like a vine. Clingy,” I say before I can stop myself. Then I feel horrible.Keely’s been nothing but supportive, and it’s not her fault that makes mefeel suffocated.<\/p>\n
“Cooper.” Nonny takes my hand in both of hers. They’re small and light,threaded with thick blue veins. “Keely is a beautiful, sweet girl. But if she’snot who you love, she’s just not. And that’s fine.”My throat goes dry and I stare at the game show on the screen.<\/p>\n
Somebody’s about to win a new washer\/dryer set and they’re pretty happyabout it. Nonny doesn’t say anything else, just keeps holding my hand. “Idunno whatcha mean,” I say.<\/p>\n
If Nonny notices my good ol’ boy accent coming and going, she doesn’tmention it. “I mean, Cooper Clay, I’ve been in the room when that girl callsor texts you, and you always look like you’re trying to escape. Thensomeone else calls and your face lights up like a Christmas tree. I don’tknow what’s holding you back, darlin’, but I wish you’d stop letting it. It’snot fair to you or to Keely.” She squeezes my hand and releases it. “Wedon’t have to talk about it now. In fact, could you please hunt down thatbrother of yours? It may not have been the best idea I ever had to let atwelve-year-old wander the hospital with money burning a hole in hispocket.”<\/p>\n
“Yeah, sure.” She’s letting me off the hook and we both know it. I standup and ease out of the room into a hallway crowded with nurses in brightlycolored scrubs. Every one of them stops what they’re doing and smiles atme. “You need help, hon?” the one closest to me asks.<\/p>\n
It’s been that way my whole life. People see me and immediately thinkthe best of me. Once they know me, they like me even more.<\/p>\n
If it ever came out that I’d actually done something to Simon, plenty ofpeople would hate me. But there’d also be people who’d make excuses forme, and say there must be more to my story than just getting accused ofusing steroids.<\/p>\n
The thing is, they’d be right.<\/p>\n
Nate<\/p>\n
Friday, October 5, 11:30 p.m.<\/p>\n
My father’s awake for a change when I get home Friday from a party atAmber’s house. It was still going strong when I left, but I’d had enough.I’ve got ramen noodles on the stove and toss some vegetables into Stan’scage. As usual he just blinks at them like an ingrate.<\/p>\n
“You’re home early,” my father says. He looks the same as ever–likehell. Bloated and wrinkled with a pasty, yellow tinge to his skin. His handshakes when he lifts his glass. A couple of months ago I came home onenight and he was barely breathing, so I called an ambulance. He spent a fewdays in the hospital, where doctors told him his liver was so damaged hecould drop dead at any time. He nodded and acted like he gave a shit, thencame home and cracked another bottle of Seagram’s.<\/p>\n
I’ve been ignoring that ambulance bill for weeks. It’s almost a thousanddollars thanks to our crap insurance, and now that I have zero incomethere’s even less chance we can pay it.<\/p>\n
“I have things to do.” I dump the noodles into a bowl and head for myroom with them.<\/p>\n
“Seen my phone?” my father calls after me. “Kept ringing today but Icouldn’t find it.”<\/p>\n
“That’s ’cause it’s not on the couch,” I mutter, and shut my door behindme. He was probably hallucinating. His phone hasn’t rung in months.I scarf down my noodles in five minutes, then settle back onto mypillows and put in my earbuds so I can call Bronwyn. It’s my turn to pick amovie, thank God, but we’re barely half an hour into Ringu when Bronwyndecides she’s had enough.<\/p>\n
“I can’t watch this alone. It’s too scary,” she says.<\/p>\n
“You’re not alone. I’m watching it with you.””Not with me. I need a person in the room for something like this. Let’swatch something else instead. My turn to pick.””I’m not watching another goddamn Divergent movie, Bronwyn.” I waita beat before adding, “You should come over and watch Ringu with me.Climb out your window and drive here.” I say it like it’s a joke, and itmostly is. Unless she says yes.<\/p>\n
Bronwyn pauses, and I can tell she’s thinking about it as a not-joke. “Mywindow’s a fifteen-foot drop to the ground,” she says. Joke.<\/p>\n
“So use a door. You’ve got, like, ten of them in that house.” Joke.”My parents would kill me if they found out.” Not-joke. Which meansshe’s considering it. I picture her sitting next to me in those little shorts shehad on when I was at her house, her leg pressed against mine, and mybreathing gets shallow.<\/p>\n
“Why would they?” I ask. “You said they can sleep through anything.”Not-joke. “Come on, just for an hour till we finish the movie. You can meetmy lizard.” It takes a few seconds of silence for me to realize how thatmight be interpreted. “That’s not a line. I have an actual lizard. A beardeddragon named Stan.”<\/p>\n
Bronwyn laughs so hard she almost chokes. “Oh my God. That wouldhave been completely out of character and yet … for a second I really didthink you meant something else.”<\/p>\n
I can’t help laughing too. “Hey, girl. You were into that smooth talk.Admit it.”<\/p>\n
“At least it’s not an anaconda,” Bronwyn sputters. I laugh harder, but I’mstill kind of turned on. Weird combination.<\/p>\n
“Come over,” I say. Not-joke.<\/p>\n
I listen to her breathe for a while, until she says, “I can’t.””Okay.” I’m not disappointed. I never really thought she would. “But youneed to pick a different movie.”<\/p>\n
We agree on the last Bourne movie and I’m watching it with my eyeshalf-closed, listening to increasingly frequent texts from Amber chime inthe background. She might be starting to think we’re something we’re not. Ireach for that phone to shut it down when Bronwyn says, “Nate. Yourphone.”<\/p>\n
“What?”<\/p>\n
“Someone keeps texting you.”<\/p>\n
“So?”<\/p>\n
“So it’s really late.”<\/p>\n
“And?” I ask, annoyed. I hadn’t pegged Bronwyn as the possessive type,especially when all we ever do is talk on the phone and she just turneddown my joke-not-joke invitation.<\/p>\n
“It’s not … customers, is it?”<\/p>\n
I exhale and shut the other phone off. “No. I told you, I’m not doing thatanymore. I’m not stupid.”<\/p>\n
“All right.” She sounds relieved, but tired. Her voice is starting to drag.”I might go to sleep now.”<\/p>\n
“Okay. Do you want to hang up?”<\/p>\n
“No.” She laughs thickly, already half-asleep. “I’m running out ofminutes, though. I just got a warning. I have half an hour left.”Those prepaid phones have hundreds of minutes on them, and she’s had itless than a week. I didn’t realize we’d been talking that much. “I’ll give youanother phone tomorrow,” I tell her, before I remember tomorrow’sSaturday and we don’t have school. “Bronwyn, wait. You need to hang up.”I think she’s already asleep until she mutters, “What?””Hang up, okay? So your minutes don’t run out and I can call youtomorrow about getting you another phone.”<\/p>\n
“Oh. Right. Okay. Good night, Nate.”<\/p>\n
“Good night.” I hang up and place the two phones side by side, pick upthe remote, and shut off the TV. Might as well go to sleep.<\/p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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