by Kelly Oram
“Fine,” Mr. Thatcher says, startling me out of my epiphany. “But will you at least promise to come to me, or your guidance counselor, if things get worse? Bullying isn’t tolerated in this school. If it doesn’t stop, they need to be dealt with.”
It’s a reasonable request, so I shrug a vague agreement. It satisfies him. Mr. Thatcher sighs. “All right. Unfortunately, I still have to give you both detention. It’s the rules, and I can’t bend them because the whole class heard the argument.”
I understand. And really, detention’s not the end of the world. I can do my homework at home or I can do it in Mr. Thatcher’s classroom. “Okay.”
“Worth it,” Charlotte adds, making me crack another grin.
I swear Mr. Thatcher’s lips twitch, but he manages to keep a straight face.
“Can we serve it tomorrow, though?” I ask. “I’ve got to intern at the hospital after school today.”
Mr. Thatcher’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. “You intern at the hospital?”
My face flushes. Snapping out of a year-long waking coma is fine and all, but people’s shock is still humiliating. “Yeah. It was my therapist’s idea. He thought being involved in something new would be good for me.”
Mr. Thatcher smiles. “It was a good call. I’ve noticed a difference in my class the last couple of weeks, and your presentation today was fabulous. That had to be the most entertaining and creative response I’ve ever gotten to that assignment. I’m proud of you.” He shares his grin with Charlotte. “Of both of you. Excellent work. And yes, you can both serve your detention tomorrow after school.”
Charlotte beams at him, and I manage a much smaller smile. “Thanks, Mr. Thatcher.”
He laughs. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been thanked for handing out detention.” We all laugh, and he makes a shooing motion down the hall. “Go get changed out of your costumes and hurry back.”
As he heads back in the classroom and as Charlotte and I make our way to the girls room, I grin again. “You’re right. He’s a pretty cool teacher.”
For the first time since I started my internship, I’m in a fantastic mood when I enter the hospital. I greet Regina with a cheerful smile that surprises her so much she rears back from the shock of it. Wes sees the greeting and stares at me with wide eyes.
“Hey, Wes.”
The smile I offer him is smaller and more cautious, but it’s still genuine, and it rattles him. “Hi.” He says the word slowly, almost as if he’s scared to answer me. Like he thinks he might be walking into a trap. “What’s going on?”
I suppress a grin. His fear is adorable. “Nothing. I just had a good day today.”
When he doesn’t relax, my confidence starts to slip and I shrug awkwardly. Regina jumps on the moment, forcing away the awkwardness with her exuberant personality. “Great! We’re going to need your good mood because we’re doing some maid duties today. “Changing beds, trash, bedpans…”
The look on her face makes me laugh. “Bring it on.”
She winks and leads us down a hall of patient rooms. After a few steps, I look over my shoulder. Wes hasn’t moved. He’s standing, frozen in place, gaping at me. “You coming?” I ask, and then tease him before I can even think about what I’m doing. “Better hurry. Last one to the room is getting stuck with the bedpan. I’m nice but not selfless enough to volunteer for that task.”
Regina laughs and Wes blinks at me. I can’t blame him for being so stunned. I haven’t been my old self since Spencer’s death, and even before that, I hadn’t been friendly and playful with Wes since he started being a major jerk to me.
Allowing that he needs a minute to process what must to him seem like an impossibility, I shrug as if to say Suit yourself and follow Regina to our first room. I’ve stripped the bed for a patient who’s off getting some scans and am putting on a new bottom sheet when Wes enters the room a minute later.
“You’re in luck,” Regina teases him. “No bedpan in this room. Why don’t you help Bailey with the sheets?”
I don’t need help making the bed. Regina is taking advantage of my mood to force Wes and me to interact more. It’s an obvious move that both Wes and I see right through, but I don’t contest the order and, surprisingly, neither does he. He moves to the other side of the bed, tucking the sheet over the last corner. Then, he reaches for the top sheet. Our eyes meet briefly as he hands me half of the sheet. I don’t know why, but I blush under his gaze and my “Thanks” comes out shy. He nods in response, choosing to stay silent, but his expression has gone from confused and wary to curious. I consider it an improvement.
We work this way together for the rest of our shift. No friendly chatter, but there’s a companionable peace between us. It’s as if we’ve reached an unspoken truce, finally putting all of our past drama behind us. And then Regina’s right: the shift flies by so quickly I almost regret it when it’s time to leave.
We leave the hospital together, and, like normal, we don’t talk. I’m comfortable for once, but Wes seems fidgety. He keeps shuffling his backpack and glancing my direction. I think he wants to talk to me but doesn’t know what to say. I don’t, either.
My phone rings just as I get to the exit. “Hey, detention buddy,” Charlotte chirps playfully when I answer the call. “Tonight’s a home game. You up for some Monday Night Football?”
She’s brimming with excitement. Her giddiness makes me laugh. “Sure.”
I glance at Wes, a light blush frosting my cheeks. I don’t know why I’m blushing. He cocks a brow, a silent question in his eyes, but then gives me a parting nod and heads to the street toward the bus stop. My heart sinks as I watch him walk away.
“Hey, Charlotte, do you possibly have room for one more?”
“That depends. Are we speaking of a certain broody, sexy intern who happens to be a big enough Jets fan that he recognizes players’ kids?”
“Maybe.” My face heats up again, even though there’s no one around to see it.
Charlotte laughs. “Girl, that boy is welcome to hang out with us anytime. Bring him. And then ask him to homecoming. And then grow up and marry him and have his beautiful babies.”
I burst into laughter. “Okay. I’ll ask him. To the game, I mean. Not the dance. I’m not ready for that yet.”
Charlotte sighs. “Well, we’ll just have to make sure to get you ready for that before this weekend.”
“Not likely. He probably won’t even say yes to coming with me right now.”
Charlotte snorts. “Whatever. I’ll meet you both at your house in ten minutes.”
The line disconnects, but the grin doesn’t leave my face. I really like Charlotte. That thought makes me look around for Spencer, because that’s usually his line. Oddly, he’s not here. A jolt of fear zips through me. He’s mentioned that his time here is coming to an end. He couldn’t already be gone, could he? “Spencer?” I whisper. “Spencer?”
“I’m here, baby.”
Spencer materializes in front of me, and I breathe a sigh of relief so big I almost collapse. I wish more than anything that I could grab him and throw my arms around him. “I was afraid you might be gone.”
He smiles, but he can’t hide the sadness in his eyes. “Soon, Bay. Really soon. But I promise I won’t disappear without saying good-bye, okay?”
I swallow back the threat of tears. Of course he can’t stay with me forever. He needs to go to the afterlife.
“It’s going to be okay, Bailey. I promise.”
It doesn’t feel like it, but I do my best to believe him anyway. If I can trust anyone about my future, it’s Spencer.
“Now hurry and catch Wes before he gets on the bus. I’m not going to a Jets game without my best friend.”
Spencer’s statement reminds me that before my mini meltdown I’d been about to ask Wes out. Well, not out, but to hang out. I head toward the street where Wes is waiting for his ride but stumble to a stop as a horrific thought hits me. “He won’t think this is a date, will he?”
Spencer’s sadness disappears, and he gives me a smirk. “If he’s smart, he’ll treat it like one.”
I’m about to reply when Spencer freaks. “Bailey, go! The bus is coming.”
I hurry toward the bus stop and have to yell when the door to the bus opens and Wes steps up to it. “Wes, wait!” He pauses, one foot on the bottom step, and glances back at me. “Please wait.”
When he waves off the driver and steps back, I hurry the last of the distance and reach him just as the bus rumbles away. He eyes me warily. “What’s up?”
“Sorry.” Forcing an awkward smile, I take a moment to catch my breath. “I’ll give you a ride wherever, I just wanted to ask you…um…”
“Go ahead, Bay,” Spencer encourages when I hesitate. “He’s the biggest Jets fan in the world. You know he would love to go.”
I flick my eyes at Spencer, and he gives me a silly grin holding both thumbs up. “You’ve got this, baby. Wes will never be able to turn down a hot date with a sexy woman to a Jets game. He’ll be putty in your hands.”
I let out a soft snort and roll my eyes before I remember that Wes can’t see or hear Spencer. Luckily, I manage to swallow my snarky reply before I look stark raving mad. But I must look mildly crazy because Wes glances Spencer’s direction—the direction of my gaze—and frowns. “What’s going on, Bailey?”
I bite my lip and suck in a deep breath, cringing under his direct gaze. I’m nervous to ask; the idea of bringing him causes butterflies in my stomach, but I’ve already realized I desperately want him to come. I force as much confidence into my voice as I can, afraid that if I don’t seem 100 percent certain he won’t accept the invitation. “Sorry. I know you probably have to work right now, but everyone deserves to play hooky once in a while. Monday Night Football with Xavier Mitchell’s daughter in her box seats is one of those instances. You game?”
Wes’s jaw falls slack. “Are you serious?”
He can’t quite hide his excitement even though he tries. It makes him not sexy but cute. Right now, he’s as adorable as Spencer. My anxiety disappears. Spencer’s right. Wes and I should be friends. It would be good for us. “Charlotte’s waiting for us at my house right now. Think you can get out of work?”
“I…” He rakes a hand through his hair, struggling with some internal battle. I think he’s going to turn me down, but he surprises me. With a hard swallow and a nod, he says, “Yeah. I have a friend who owes me a shift swap.”
“Awesome. Let’s go.”
Wes follows me silently to my car. As we near his street, I slow down. “Do you need to stop at home first?”
He shakes his head. Aside from his quick phone call to his friend asking if he can take his shift, he hasn’t said anything. As we near my neighborhood, he finally speaks. “Thanks for inviting me. You didn’t have to.”
“You’re welcome. And I didn’t feel obligated. I wanted you to come.”
He slides me a sideways look, as if he doesn’t believe me. The skepticism makes me sigh. “We were friends once.”
“And you suddenly just want to be friends again?”
I shrug both shoulders, thankful that I’m at an intersection and turning a corner so that I have an excuse not to look at him. He sounds almost accusing, and it’s impossible not to get defensive in response. “I’ve always wanted to be your friend.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Wes says quickly. “I just mean…you seem different today. What’s with the change?”
“Honestly?” He waits patiently for me to continue. “It’s Charlotte. She’s a good friend. A real friend. I haven’t had one of those since Spencer died. Having a true friend has been really good for me.” I finally glance his way and add, “I could use another one.”
Wes doesn’t reply to this. He turns his gaze back to the road and takes a deep breath. I’m disappointed that he didn’t say he’d try, but it still feels like progress since he didn’t automatically shoot me down.
When we get to my house, Charlotte is waiting out front. She grins at me and then greets Wes with a big hug. “Wes! I’m so glad you can come!”
Seeing the shock on his face and watching his cheeks turn red as he shyly returns the hug is one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen. A grin spreads across my face as I watch him fumble with an awkward reply and say thank you for letting him come. Charlotte shrugs. “Don’t thank me. Bailey was the one who asked if she could bring you.”
The smile vanishes from my face. It’s my turn to blush. Flashing Charlotte a thanks a lot smile, I ignore Wes’s questioning gaze and say, “Yeah, well, not to be all rude or anything, but can I add one more to the guest list?” I nod toward the house. “I’ve been a pretty crappy sister for the past year. Julia would really love this.”
Charlotte beams me a smile and an enthusiastic nod. “Sure. Go grab her. Wes and I’ll just be waiting in the car.”
“Thanks.” I flash Wes a grin before heading inside. “Shotgun.”
Inside, I hear my mom typing away on the computer in the office. “Hey, Mom!” I call as I head toward the kitchen to grab a drink of water. “Can I go to the football game with Charlotte?”
Mom appears behind me as if she’d scrambled out of her office chair in a mad dash. “Of course, honey.” She wraps me in a huge hug, completely unable to contain her excitement over the fact that I’m going out with a friend without being forced. “Charlotte already spoke to me a few minutes ago. How exciting.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of cool.” I hesitantly return Mom’s smile. “I’m more excited for Wes, though. He’s coming, too, and you know how big a Jets fan he is.”
Mom sucks in a breath and bites down on her lips as if trying to contain a giddy squeal. Her eyes gloss over and she says, “You and Wes are hanging out again? Honey, that’s wonderful.”
The teary eyes are a bit over the top, though I can’t begrudge her her excitement. She’s been worried sick about me over the past year. My sudden change in attitude these past couple weeks must be a huge relief. Plus, Mom never really knew about the tension between Wes and me. We never let her see it. She knew things were different but not to what extent. She was shocked, after the funeral, by Wes’s sudden disappearance from my life.
“Yeah.” I squirm out of her too-tight embrace. “We’re going to give it a try today, but I don’t know what will happen there, so don’t go planning a wedding or anything. It’s just a football game.”
Mom’s knowing smile makes me blush, so I quickly change the subject. “Is Julia here? Can she come with us?”
“WHAT?” Julia bounds into the kitchen as if she’s been eavesdropping the entire time. “Are you serious?”
Guilt swamps me. Her shock makes me feel like the world’s worst sister. “If you want to come.”
I hadn’t realized exactly how bad things between us had become, but I’m completely self-conscious just asking her to hang out. And she’s gaping at me as if I’m some kind of alien. I give her an awkward shrug. “It should be fun.”
She snaps her jaw shut, and slowly her shock fades to a look of trepidation. “You really want me to come?”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to explain myself. I suppose I don’t need to. She’s been here this whole time. She knows how I’ve been, and why. She probably knows better than I do. I was too messed up to see what I was doing to our relationship. I was in my own little bubble of grief and guilt.
Trisha and Liz were right. I have been self-absorbed. Not that I want to go apologize to them. Spencer was right, too—I’m better off without them. But Julia is my sister. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I say the only thing that keeps coming to mind. “I’m sorry, Julia.”
Her face fills with surprise, and that breaks my heart even more. Tears sting my eyes, and I pull in a sharp breath. “I’ve been a horrible sister,” I whisper. Cutting a glance at my mom, I add, “And a terrible daughter.”
Mom’s eyes spill over, and a river of tears flows down her cheeks. She holds her arms
out to me, and for once, I fall freely into them, willingly accepting her affection. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Oh, Bailey. Sweetheart, it’s okay. We know this year has been hard on you. We just want to see you happy again.”
It takes me a moment to find my voice, and when I do, it comes out shaking. “I’m trying. I promise.”
She squeezes me so hard I can barely breathe, but I don’t want her to let go. I’ve needed this moment with her for a long time. I may never find redemption for the mistakes I made with Spencer that night, but maybe I can mend the rift I’ve torn between my family and me.
Once Mom lets me go, I turn to Julia, scared of her reaction. Mom may be willing to forgive, but I think I’ve hurt Julia more over the past year than Mom or Dad. Pushing down my fear, I meet her wary gaze. “Please come?”
She stands there wearing an unreadable expression. I begin to think it’s too late, that I’ve damaged our relationship beyond repair, but then she rushes forward and tackle hugs me. Unlike me, she doesn’t cry—she’s always been the tougher sister—but she does cling to me tightly enough that I know she’s fighting her emotions.
“I forgive you, Bailey.”
My chest tightens, and I have to squeeze her harder. “Thanks.”
Both Charlotte and Julia are so chatty that any tension there might have been between Wes and me never gets the chance to rear its ugly head. They laugh, they joke, and generally keep things light enough that both Wes and I are able to relax. That is, until we get to the stadium and are shown to Charlotte’s executive suite—which is really the team’s suite for family and friends. Walking into the room is like stepping into Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Even Julia looks uncomfortable as we shuffle in and realize that tonight we’re VIPs.
The suite is almost like a lounge. There’s a large seating area with couches and big screens, and beside it there is a large kitchen area with several tables and a bar. At the far end is a wall of glass doors that opens to a balcony where a dozen or so stadium-style seats overlook the field.
