by Cara Malone
“I used to love it,” Alex said. “But things happen and plans change. I think I’m on the right course now, even if it’s hard sometimes.”
Her mother didn’t answer right away, her eyes going back to the television screen where everything was safe and the world made sense as long as she just kept waiting for deals. With a deep breath, Alex reached for the remote and watched her mom’s hand flinch.
She turned off the TV and her mom said, “Please turn that back on. I was watching it.”
“In a minute, ma. I want to talk,” Alex said.
It was her mother’s insistence that she get back to living her life that caused Alex to enroll in the EMT program in the first place, and now even though Megan had broken off whatever it was they were doing and she’d just had a panic attack in her car, she was finally beginning to crawl out of the cocoon she’d wrapped around herself last year. She thought it was time for her mother to begin to do the same, and if she needed someone to kick her into gear too, then Alex was going to try.
“It’s going to sell out,” her mother said a little more insistently, irritation edging into her voice. “That means they’re about to introduce a new product. Turn it back on.”
“In a minute,” Alex said. “I think you’ve been watching too much of this crap.”
“It’s not crap.”
“The entire garage is filled with junk we’re never going to use,” Alex said. “Ma, you have to get off the couch. You need to go back to work and get on with your life.”
Her mother snatched the remote out of Alex’s hand and flipped the television back on. They were still on the survival kit, but a countdown timer had been added to the bottom of the screen just like she predicted.
“They’re not holding my job anymore,” she said. “I lost it months ago.”
“I know,” Alex said. “You could apply for a new job, find something part-time at first.”
“Not today,” she muttered, cradling the remote protectively in her lap.
“Okay, ma,” Alex said. She was still holding a slice of uneaten pizza, but she had no appetite for it anymore. She put it back in the box and stood up. “I’m sorry.”
She went down the hall to her room and closed the door gently, then collapsed on her bed, looking up at the ceiling. A single hot tear fell down the side of her face, and then another, and then she squeezed her eyes shut. This whole living her life without anti-depressants thing was going to be harder than she thought, especially if she couldn’t get her mother on board.
Seventeen
The following morning, Megan awoke to her phone ringing. She jerked out of sleep, snatching the phone off her dresser and answering without looking at the caller ID because no one ever called her so early in the morning. With all the anxiety and precautions surrounding the meningitis exposure, she was half worried that someone was calling to deliver her bad news.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Megan,” an unfamiliar female voice said, and it was friendly in a way that made it pretty unlikely that this was the bad kind of early morning phone call. “It’s Krys Stevens from Lakeside Hospital. Do you remember me?”
“Oh, hi Krys,” Megan said, relaxing. “Yes, of course.”
She’d gone back to the hospital a few days ago to steal a few more minutes of Dr. Stevens’ time. They talked about the precautions that the ER had taken after their unwitting exposure to meningitis. Once again, Dr. Stevens had been pulled away when an ambulance arrived, but Megan had given Krys her phone number in case she remembered any more details of the case for her research paper.
“I wanted to let you know we had a second case of bacterial meningitis last night,” Krys said. “A fifteen-year-old who was rushed in with a high fever and vomiting after he left football practice.”
“Oh no,” Megan said.
“He’s going to be fine,” Krys added quickly. “His treatment was started in time and we’re expecting him to make a full recovery.”
“Oh, good,” Megan said with relief. “So was it the same strain of bacteria?”
“Yep, Neisseria,” Krys said. “His school is taking this very seriously. They want to avoid any chance of the disease spreading further, so we’re going to take swabs and order antibiotics for the entire student body, as well as the staff. I figured you’d be interested to hear about it, and if you’re available, we could use extra help on swab day. Are you interested?”
“Hell yeah,” Megan said, putting her hand self-consciously to her mouth as she realized that was a less than professional response. She asked, “When?”
“First thing tomorrow,” Krys said. “We had to get the antibiotics shipped in because we don’t normally have large quantities like that on hand, but we can’t put it off long. We’ve already distributed an information sheet to parents so they can look out for any suspicious symptoms in the meantime. So you’re in?”
“Absolutely,” Megan said. She grabbed a sheet of paper off her desk and jotted down the details, including the school’s address, and then hung up the phone with a huge grin on her face. This would make for an excellent learning opportunity, and a very compelling research project that would certainly upstage whatever inconsequential literature review Ivy turned in.
The first thing Megan did was send an email to Dr. Morrow explaining why she would be absent from his lecture tomorrow. The second thing she did was call Alex. She knew she shouldn’t do anything to draw Alex back into the romantic direction that they’d been going in, but Megan still liked her as a friend and this would be a fantastic learning experience for her, too.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Megan asked before Alex even had a chance to say hello.
“Well, there’s no class tomorrow so I guess that means it’s grocery shopping day,” Alex said, sounding a little wary of Megan’s upbeat tone. “Why? What are you doing tomorrow?”
“We are going on a field trip,” Megan said. “You can grocery shop afterward.”
“Okay,” Alex said warily. “Umm, about the coffee shop—”
“Do you think we could just be friends?” Megan asked. “I really like you, but it sounds like between us we have too much baggage for anything more.”
“Yeah,” Alex said slowly. “I guess that sounds like a good idea.”
Megan filled Alex in on the details of swab day, then she hung up to let Alex get to class. Going into the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before heading to the library as usual, Megan ran into Chloe. She was in the middle of her own morning routine, leaning over the kitchen counter and studying her notes while she waited for the coffee to brew. When Megan walked in, she immediately looked up and smiled at her.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she said. “What’s on your agenda today?”
“Nothing much,” she said. “Class as usual, then studying as usual. You?”
It was kind of nice to get back into the routine of studying. She’d underestimated the amount of time she’d spent talking to—and thinking about—Alex last week, and it was time to buckle down and think about protecting her class rank.
“Same,” Chloe said. “I’m really looking forward to Dr. Morrow’s lecture on proteinase-activated receptors in the respiratory system.”
“Yeah,” Megan said, “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
Chloe went over to the coffee pot and filled a travel mug, then asked Megan if she wanted one. Megan nodded and Chloe filled hers up, too, carefully mixing in the exact proportion of cream and sugar that Megan liked. She thought briefly about not inviting Chloe to swab day tomorrow. Dr. Stevens had said they needed all the help they could get, and that she could bring her medical school friends, but there was something about letting Chloe interact with Alex that unsettled her.
It was silly, of course, because she wouldn’t think twice about introducing Chloe to any of her other platonic friends. She reasoned that it was just because she couldn’t immediately turn off her attraction for Alex. Deciding to be friends with her wasn’t the same as
flipping a switch and no longer wanting to be with her—it would just take time.
“Hey,” she said casually as Chloe handed her the mug. “There was another meningitis case last night. I guess the high school is testing its entire student body just to be safe and I’m going to help with the swabs. Do you want to come?”
“When?” Chloe asked as she went over to the dining table and started to pack up her books for the day’s classes.
“Tomorrow,” Megan said. “First thing in the morning.”
“During lecture?”
“Yeah,” Megan answered.
Chloe looked at her as if she’d just suggested that they go outside and slash some tires instead of asking her to skip a lecture class. She looked a little disappointed as she said, “No, I better skip it. Have fun.”
And for some irritating reason, Megan felt relieved.
Eighteen
The next day, Alex woke up with more purpose than she’d felt in a long time. Megan picked her up in front of her house before the sun had risen to drive over to the high school. Megan was wearing her white coat and glowing with excitement, eager to get some practical experience, and Alex was relieved to have another chance at undoing the mess she’d created when they were in the coffee shop. She didn’t want to push Megan away, and spending the day as friends, getting a little practical work experience at the same time, seemed like a good enough start toward that goal.
“Are you sure it’s okay if I help?” Alex asked as they pulled into a packed parking lot. “I’m just a student.”
“So am I,” Megan said, shooting her a butterfly-inducing smile across the center console.
It made Alex nostalgic for their brief flirtation, but she was critically low on friends—she couldn’t afford to reject Megan’s suggestion that they cool things off for a while. It was probably a good idea, anyway—Megan was right about Alex’s issues, but she wondered about the baggage that Megan alluded to as her own. Was a bad breakup really enough to turn Megan off dating permanently? She couldn’t think about that now, though, because they were about to head into the fray.
“You’re a medical student,” Alex said. “It’s different.”
“Well, you’re a third of the way to being an EMT,” Megan pointed out. “I’m not even close to a third of the way to being a doctor. Besides, we’re just going to be swabbing people all day. You’re not afraid of getting puked on, are you?”
“No,” Alex said, remembering their conversation from the coffee shop and shooting back, “Are you?”
“I would always prefer not to be,” Megan said with a laugh, “but I’m not afraid. Come on.”
They went inside and found the gymnasium, which had been temporarily converted into a treatment center. There were row upon row of tables set up in the large space, a masked volunteer sitting at each one. A couple hundred students were sitting in the bleachers, waiting for their turn to be swabbed and sent back to class.
“Wow,” Alex said, taking in the scene. “It’s like the beginning of an outbreak movie in here.”
“They don’t seem too concerned,” Megan said, nodding at the students in the bleachers. She was right—most of them were laughing with their friends, or texting, or just enjoying this interruption to their class schedules.
As Alex scanned the crowd, a thin woman with dark, glossy hair pulled back into a ponytail approached them, giving Megan a grin that briefly stirred something akin to jealousy in Alex’s stomach.
“Alex, this is Dr. Stevens,” Megan said, making the introduction.
“Krys, please,” the doctor answered, shaking Alex’s hand and then gesturing around the gym. “Well, what do you think?”
“Pretty impressive,” Megan said.
“Overwhelming,” Alex squeaked, and they both gave her a little chuckle.
“Alex is an EMT student. I brought her along since you said you’d take extra volunteers,” Megan said. “So how can we help?”
“Grab a table and start swabbing kids,” Krys said.
She led them over to an open table near the bleachers and showed them how to check off each student’s name on a printed list and then label the swab vials for analysis at the lab. Then she waved their first student over, demonstrated the swabbing technique, and walked away to make sure the whole operation was running smoothly.
“Well, she’s efficient,” Alex said with a laugh as she labeled the swab that Krys had handed her and then put the vial in a box at the end of the table.
“She has to be,” Megan said. “She works in the ER.”
They sent their first kid reluctantly back to his calculus class, despite protestations that he’d rather have a dozen more swabs, and then Megan waved the next one over. Check mark. Swab. Label. Dismiss. They repeated this process, working effectively as a team for about an hour.
Just when Alex thought that the crowd on the bleachers was beginning to dwindle, a new set of students came and filled them back up again and she realized that they were being sent to the gym in shifts. That was okay, though, because as repetitive as the work was, Megan made it fun. She chatted with the students and teased Alex about her penmanship on the vials (“You try to write on something that’s half an inch wide and cylindrical,” Alex retorted) and the time flew by.
It was a little after eleven when Alex couldn’t ignore her need for a break any longer, leaving Megan to happily keep swabbing while Alex searched for the restroom. She was just washing her hands at the sink when a girl rushed into the room, heading into the nearest stall and slamming the door. Alex tensed, wondering if she was about to be sick, but instead she heard the faint sounds of crying—the girl was clearly trying her best to conceal her tears.
Alex went over to the stall door, feeling awkward as she knocked on it and said, “Hey, are you alright?”
“Yeah,” the girl said. “Can you just, like, go away?”
“Umm, yeah I can,” Alex said, but she didn’t move. It seemed wrong to just leave her crying in there without any idea what was wrong. If she’d just broken up with her boyfriend or something like that, then her friends would be along shortly to comfort her. If it was anything more serious, then Alex didn’t know how she felt about leaving her alone. “Do you want to talk?”
“Not really,” the girl said, a sharp teenager’s attitude cutting into her voice.
Alex took a step away, about to leave after all, when the stall door opened and the girl came out. This time when she spoke, Alex could hear fear and panic that were all too familiar. “You’re one of the doctors, aren’t you?”
“I’m an EMT student,” Alex said. “Is everything okay?”
“I just know I have meningitis,” the girl said, pacing in front of the sinks and wringing her hands with nervous energy.
“What are your symptoms?” Alex asked tentatively, not quite sure how to approach this situation. She tried to remember the list of symptoms that Megan had told her the other day.
“I don’t know,” the girl said irritably. “I just, like, don’t feel good. And that boy that had it hospital sits right in front of me in fourth period. I know he gave it to me.”
“Did you ever let him take a sip of your drink, or kiss him, or anything like that?” Alex asked.
“Eww,” the girl answered in lieu of a response, continuing to pace back and forth. She was clearly in the middle of a panic attack, her mascara streaked from her crying jag and her whole body quivered as she walked. She looked exactly the way Alex felt the other day after her lesson on cardiac arrest, and she knew she had to calm the girl down.
“Well, the reason I ask is that meningitis is kind of like the kissing disease. You have to have prolonged, close contact with an infected person, or exchange bodily fluids like saliva with them, in order to catch it,” Alex said, silently thanking Megan for filling her head with meningitis facts. “So the odds are pretty low that he could have given it to you just because you sit near each other. Do you have a fever, nausea, stiff neck?”
“No,” the
girl said.
“And did you get your swab already?”
She shook her head and said, “I didn’t want them to tell me I was dying.”
“I really don’t think that’s going to happen,” Alex said. “But it’s pretty important to get tested, and I’m sure it will ease your mind. Come on, I’ll walk with you.”
The girl rolled her eyes, as if this gesture was too juvenile for her, but she went to the sink and fixed her makeup, then followed Alex back down the hall to the gym. Megan caught Alex’s eye as they entered, smiling at her from across the room before she turned back to her latest patient. That look sent a wave of desire through Alex, and she had no choice but to ignore it. She led her panicked student over to the nearest table and was surprised when the girl grabbed her hand as one of the other volunteers swabbed her throat.
As soon as it was over, she released Alex’s hand as if it were the most revolting thing she’d touched all day and paused only long enough to say, “Thanks.”
Then she went back to class and Alex went over to Megan’s table, a big grin on her face.
“What was that all about?” Megan asked as she waved the next student over.
“I helped someone today,” Alex said with a satisfied smile.
“You helped a couple hundred people today,” Megan pointed out, nodding to the nearly full box of vials on the table. Then she pointed to the rapidly emptying bleachers and said, “It looks like we’ll be done pretty soon and I’m starving. You want to get something to eat?”
“I’d love that,” Alex said as Megan instructed the next kid to open his mouth and say ahh.
They ended up at a diner down the street from the high school. As they ate, Alex told Megan about helping the girl through her panic attack and how reaffirming it had been, and Megan told Alex how many times she’d made someone gag that day.
“Fifty-seven,” she said with mock pride, “but not a single actual puker.”
