I walk straight to my bed and, with little effort, take a seat. “It’s nice of you to offer. Laying on the same bed for too many hours gets exhausting.”
“I can’t even imagine,” he says, looking around the room.
His pager goes off, breaking him from his thoughts. He looks down at it before speaking. “I’ve gotta go. If I can, I’ll stop by later to check on how you’re doing. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch.”
“Don’t forget my apple,” I remind him.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he replies before walking out of the room.
9
JESSE
It’s been a month since this internship started, and I’m surprised to find that I don’t have to force myself to drive in the direction of the hospital anymore. I think Zoe has played a big part in that; being friends with her has made this place a little more bearable.
I knock gently on her open door, grinning when her face lights up.
“Ready to eat?” she asks, swinging her legs off the side of the bed.
I take her arm, steadying her. “Always,” I say with a smile.
“You’re starting to spend more time here than I do,” she jokes.
“You did leave me here to fend for myself for days at a time,” I reply. I’m glad she’s gotten the chance to go home instead of being confined to this hospital, but I do miss seeing her whenever I want to.
“Are you admitting you’re weak and need my help to get through this life?” she mocks.
I wink at her. “I’d never admit weakness.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” She laughs, and I join her.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m doing well. Doctor Roman says things are looking good,” she says, putting the word ‘good’ in air quotes.
We reach the cafeteria, and I rest my hand on the small of her back, ushering her through as I hold the door for us.
“You don’t believe it?” I ask, breaking the contact. Damn, that had felt right.
She glances at me over her shoulder, her eyes blazing for a moment. “I’ll believe it when I’m done,” she says, and I can tell she means it. She’s a realist, but I know part of her wants to hope for more.
“You’re almost done.”
“Things could still go wrong,” she whispers, taking a seat at our usual table.
I look at her—really look at her—before I speak. “Things can always go wrong.” Isn’t that the truth? I think bitterly. “But they could also go right.”
“When did you become such an optimist? That’s not something I signed up for when I decided to be friends with you,” she says, changing the subject.
I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know. And wait—are you saying we’re friends now?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I’m going to get my lunch. When I get back, you can try that answer again.”
Taking out my lunch, I turn back to the table to find her watching me.
“So?” I ask, sitting opposite her. “Are we friends or not?”
She folds her arms over her chest. “I guess,” she says with theatrical reluctance.
I can feel the shit-eating grin stretching across my face. “Do you know what this feels like?” She shakes her head. “When the cool kid—the one you wanted to be friends with for a long time—finally says hello to you,” I tell her, and she rolls her eyes. I grab an apple from the lunch bag and hand it to her.
She takes a bite. “Are you saying I’m the cool kid you’ve looked up to your entire life?”
“Yes. Everyone here thinks you’re the coolest.” I know she doesn’t believe it, but she’s loved here—by the nurses, the other patients, and by the visitors. Even her sarcasm is something people admire. I’ve seen the way Dr. Roman talks about her, how Fiona smiles whenever she tells us a story about Zoe, and even personally when I’ve walked by Maria’s room to find them all laughing at something Zoe has said or done. When I see her face redden, I add, “I had to figure out what people saw in you for myself.”
“And what’s the verdict?” she asks.
“You’re okay, Evans.”
She’s more than okay. She’s amazing.
“What is it with guys and last names?” she asks.
“Last names are reserved for friends,” I respond. “None of my friends actually call me by my first name.”
“Alright, then, Falcon. How’s your day been?” she asks.
“Well, I ran around and got coffee—”
“As interns do,” she adds, and I smile.
I take a bite of the string cheese I grabbed from inside my lunch bag. “And then I shadowed Dr. Roman for a while.”
“That sounds like a lot of learning,”
“I did learn a little, but there’s so much more I don’t know.” The work this hospital does with its lack of resources is admirable and worthy of emulation.
“What else?” she pushes, and I smile, happy she’s interested in knowing more about me.
“I made Maria laugh by pretending to be a magician.”
“A magician?” she asks, her eyes widening.
“Yes, Jesse the Good Magician came out to play for a little.”
“Why are you always the ‘good’ something?”
“Because I’m cool like that.” I shake my head like she should know this and add, “The point is, I wanted to be a magician when I grew up, and today I had the perfect opportunity to showcase my talents.”
“I’m so mad I missed that,” she says with a chuckle. “What made you change your mind?”
I laugh. “I grew up. Then I wanted to be a professional football player.”
“So that’s why you play football, then? You want to do it professionally and have a career in medicine as a backup?”
“I don’t want to play football professionally. Even if I did, it’s almost impossible for kickers to get drafted.”
“And the impossibility of it is what’s stopping you? I thought you were an optimist!” she exclaims.
“I am an optimist.” Most of the time.
“When did you decide you wanted to be a doctor?”
I was waiting for this question. I suck in a breath, praying she won’t ask any follow-up questions. “High school.”
“Why?”
“Just circumstances.” It’s a weak response—a half-answer— because I don’t want to discuss the topic of my motivation. Not right now. Not yet.
“Okay,” she answers, and I can tell she suspects there’s more to the story.
“Any football games coming up?” she says, changing the topic.
“Not yet, but when we start playing, will you be cheering for me in the stands?”
She smirks, trying to suppress a laugh. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Seriously?” I ask, pretending to be hurt that she wouldn’t go watch me play.
“Well, maybe I’ll cheer for you,” she says, giving in. I laugh when I realize that had been her goal.
“I’ll be looking for you in the bleachers.”
“You won’t find me.”
“You’re actually never going to go to one of my games?”
“I’ll go, but with so many people there, you won’t be able to see me.”
“I’ll see you,” I assure her. I don’t think anyone can miss her.
“Speaking of seeing, I’ve got to go,” she says, getting up and tossing the core of the apple into the trash.
“Already?” I was hoping she could stay a little longer. “I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow?”
She nods. “Same time tomorrow, until you get sick of it.”
“I won’t.” I don’t think I could get sick of seeing her.
She lifts an eyebrow and says, “You say that now.”
“Don’t make me change my mind,” I warn.
She lowers her voice to a conspiratory whisper. “Think we’ll be friends for long?”
“I hope we are.”
The smile she gives me is hauntingly sa
d. “Have a good day, Falcon.” She waves goodbye before walking out the door.
“You too, Evans,” I respond. Tomorrow could not come fast enough
10
ZOE
The following week, I return to the hospital for my scheduled chemo and three-day stay, but I’m told I won’t be getting chemotherapy. Instead, Mom and I are ushered into one of the waiting rooms to wait for Dr. Roman. We both sit quietly, neither one of us saying anything—both consumed by fear.
A few minutes later, Dr. Roman walks in with my chart in hand. She greets us with a smile, sets the chart down, and takes one of the available seats in front of us.
“I have good news for you,” she says. I look at my mother, who I can tell is ready to cry. Dad walks in at the same time Dr. Roman adds, “We’re done with your chemo.”
“What does that mean?” my father asks cautiously.
Dr. Roman turns to him. “It means that after looking at the results, we believe Zoe is now in remission.” She turns back to focus on me. “We didn’t find any cancer cells, so we can say that the chemo has done its job.”
“So, I’m good?” I ask. I’m waiting for her to take back the words I’ve waited months to hear.
“Yes, it seems the chemo was successful. We’ll still need to see you every couple of weeks, but other than those check-ins, you’re free to go back to normal life.”
Normal life. I forgot what that was like, but as Dr. Roman says, I can have one again, and I’m eager to start.
“And school?” I don’t know why that’s the first thing I ask, but I do. Normal life included school for me, and although I haven’t given it much thought, talking to Jesse about Bragan University has strengthened my desire to go back. My father clears his throat, and when I turn toward him, I notice that my mother is standing beside him with her hand intertwined with his. She’s got tears sliding down her face, and my father looks surprised.
“Sweetie, thinking about school just yet isn’t a great idea,” Mom says, jumping in before my dad says anything else.
“But if I wanted to…could I go back?” I ask Dr. Roman once again, hoping she gives me the answer I want to hear.
“If that’s something you want, yes. You could return to school,” Dr. Roman confirms with a smile.
In what comes out like a whisper, I respond, “Thank you.” Taking a deep breath, I add, “How soon could I return?” As I say this, I feel the hope I’d been so cautious about letting in before spread through my body.
“As soon as you’d like.”
As soon as I want? What about right now? I don’t ask those questions out loud.
“Shouldn’t she stay home a little longer?” my father, a man of few words, asks, realizing I’m serious about going back. I know that he’ll be the parent I have to target–the parent I’ll have to plead to and convince. Although the ultimate decision is technically up to me, I need my parents on board too.
“You don’t have to go back right away,” Dr. Roman adds to appease my parents.
“I wouldn’t. We’re halfway through the summer, so there’s a few months before the Fall semester starts,” I inform her, but my comment is more for my parents. There’s still time for them to coddle me, and time for me to make them see my point.
“Great! We’ll keep an eye on you when you come in, and hopefully things continue to go smoothly for you.” I could read between the lines: I could relapse…just like Maria did.
The rest of the conversation and the questions my parents ask fall on deaf ears. I checked out the moment they started asking about the rules. Instead, I find myself thinking about the fact that I get to go back to school. I can return to Bragan University. I can be a student again. Sure, I won’t get to be a senior this year, but I’ll be a junior—and I’ll be alive. The fact that I’ll have to take a few extra classes to stay on track won’t deter me either or stop me from pushing forward.
Bragan University… I can’t believe I’ll get to start again in a few months.
I’m so eager to go that I don’t mind all the things I hated when I was there: getting up early for class, or homework. Now, I’m looking forward to it.
Slowly, I retreat from the room, leaving my parents and Dr. Roman behind to find my own Good Doctor. Walking the halls of this hospital, I pass by Maria’s room and peek inside, only to find it empty. She’s likely off getting some more invasive tests done, and my heart immediately begins to ache at the thought that I’ll be leaving when she has to stay.
I keep searching for Jesse, finally stopping at the cafeteria. When I scan the room, I spot the man I’m looking for sitting at one of the corner tables with Thing 1 and Thing 2—also known as Lilly and Marissa. I hear one of them giggle and see the other flip her hair as I approach. Jesse laughs at what one of them says, and in an instant I change my mind. Why would Jesse care that I was officially in remission? I stop abruptly and turn back towards the door.
“Hey, Zo!”
I glance over my shoulder to find Jesse grinning at me.
“I didn’t see you come in,” he says, standing up and walking over to me. The sour looks on the girls’ faces is priceless, and I have to stop myself from smiling.
“I thought you’d be in the ‘Poison Room’,” he says, using air quotes on the last word.
“I thought I would be too. But I’m not,” I answer cryptically.
“How come? Something wrong?” I’m pleased to see he’s worried.
“Nope, nothing. I just wanted to grab some ginger ale,” I lie. I don’t know why I don’t tell him the truth. It’s not like we aren’t friends.
“It’s in the fridge.”
“Yeah, I know,” I answer, wishing I hadn’t come in here in the first place. I head over to the fridge, grab a can of ginger ale, and open it. Slowly—carefully—I pour it into a plastic cup. Without looking at him again, I leave the cafeteria just as quickly as I walked towards it. I could’ve just told him—given him the news Dr. Roman gave me. Then again, if I say it out loud, I feel like I might jinx myself.
“Wait up,” I hear him say behind me.
I look back but don’t slow my steps. “What’s up?”
“You didn’t go in there for ginger ale.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Jeez, Zoe, would you just stop?” he says, exasperated.
With a huff, I slow down enough for him to catch up. I show him my plastic cup. “See. Ginger ale.”
“You didn’t have to get it from the cafeteria,” he says.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because there’s a fridge closer to where you had your check-up.”
He waits for me to contradict him, but he’s caught me out. I shrug. “Do you regularly have lunch with the other interns?” I ask, jealousy rising in me.
He blinks, thrown by the change of subject. “Sometimes. I had to take an earlier break today, and I knew you had chemo.” He starts running a hand through his hair.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’ll be fine,” he says, and I don’t miss the fact that he’s used the future tense.
He will be fine, but he’s not right now.
“If you ever need to talk…” I mindlessly bring the rim of the cup to my lips.
“I thought you didn’t like ginger ale anymore,” he says.
“Yes, I do,” I counter. I know he’s changing the subject because he doesn’t want to talk about himself. It’s a classic deflecting technique.
“No, you said you stopped drinking it after you got to go home, remember? You told me you’ve had it too many times that you can only associate it with being in the hospital.” I stare at him. We talked about that weeks ago; I can’t believe he’d remember.
“Did I say that?” I say, feigning ignorance.
We stop near one of the nurse’s stations. “You did. Now, tell me why you came looking for me,” he says with a teasing smile.
“I did not come looking for you.”
“No, you just came looking for
the soda you don’t like, in the cafeteria you knew I’d likely be in.”
I give in. “Exactly.”
He smiles more genuinely, making me smile as well.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“I just wanted to tell you I’ve been cleared. I don’t have to come back every day anymore… I’m even allowed to go back to school.” The words rush out of my mouth as I’m unable to contain the excitement. I swear Jesse’s eyes light up—the shadows lurking there disappearing. Now all I see is joy and excitement. Unexpectedly, he lifts me up and spins me around.
“Stop!” I shout, laughing as the room spins around me. “You’re spilling my drink.”
“I’ll clean it up later,” he says, his laughter warming me. For a second, I enjoy this moment; I enjoy seeing him excited and the fact that I’ve gotten a second chance at life. I also find myself reveling in the way his hands feel against my skin.
“Put me down!” I tell him when I realize we’re drawing an audience.
“Fine.” When my feet finally touch the ground, he says, “That’s amazing news, Zo.”
“It is.”
He’s just staring at me now, and I can tell he’s thinking about something. “Everything okay?” I ask once again.
He nods, and his hand goes to the back of his head. “I’m sorry about… you know, picking you up. I just… I’m really happy to hear you’ve been cleared.”
I tentatively bring my hand to his shoulder to show him I didn’t mind, I enjoyed it. “All good. I’m excited too!”
“So, you’re going back to school?”
“Yes. Dr. Roman says I can go back to living a ‘normal life’, and that includes school.”
“You’re coming to Bragan?” he asks.
I nod. “I’ll have to convince my parents, but yeah. If Bragan takes me back, I’ll start in September.”
“There’s no way Bragan will say no to you. Your parents won’t either. From what I’ve learned about you in the last few weeks, you’re a hard person to say no to.”
“Let’s hope so. I think I can convince my parents, but B.U. could say no to letting me return.”
Bragan Boys (Bragan University Boxset) Page 25
