Dating the It Guy

by Krysten Lindsay Hager

  She was right. After all, I had felt like crap for days because of him, and he needed to see what it was like to be pushed aside. I had always been sort of worried about Lauren because of what had happened with John and Brittanie, but deep down, I thought Brendon and I had some deep connection. It felt like we were meant to be, and he wouldn’t want to run back to her, but I guess I was wrong.

  The next few days were a blur. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking about how crappy things always came in threes. My grandma’s stroke was one, and the breakup/dance thing was two, so what would the third thing be? I’d get attacked by rabid squirrels? Or maybe the escaped killer from the Samson prison would find me. Maybe I’d get run over or something. I just hoped it was quick and painless. Sure, I knew I needed to focus on positive stuff, but the only silver lining was how at least Brendon’s date with Lauren had taken my mind off my grandma’s condition for two seconds. How did people go on with their lives when crap happened to them? I wasn’t the only person in the universe who had bad stuff going on, so how did those people get out of bed in the morning? Because if it wasn’t for my school’s militant get-your-tush-to-class-or-fail policy, I would have stayed locked in my room and watched soaps all day. At least I had the field trip to take my mind off things.

  On the day of the field trip, Mr. Horowitz had us spilt up into groups of five when we got to the museum and let us wander around. We were supposed to write down our feelings while we were there. Rory and Darren were in my group, and we went through the rooms and made fun of the exhibits. I had a sinus headache from the stupid weather, which couldn’t decide if it wanted to rain or not. I tried to hang back so I could be by myself, but Darren wouldn’t leave me alone. Normally, I thought he was cute and funny, but today he kept bumping into my shoulder, and it was irritating. I wanted to ask for some space, but I didn’t want to be mean, so I decided to sit down and start writing. I found a bench away from everybody else and started to work.

  Instead of writing about the artwork and the people in the museum, I started writing about my grandma. I wrote about the time everyone in the family went to get a Christmas tree, and she and I stayed back and made Christmas cookies. I was getting into it when Darren sat down next to me.

  “Whatcha writing?” he asked, nudging my leg.

  I covered my pad with my hand and shrugged. I wasn’t ready to show it to anybody yet, so I said we should go join the group. As we walked out, I noticed he kept trying to get me alone. He had a way of muscling everybody out with his shoulder, and pretty soon he and I were the only two walking together.

  We got back to school, and Darren walked with me to my locker. Before we had the fight, Brendon used to leave his physics book in there because it was closer to his class. I hadn’t run into him at the locker in a while, but today he was there getting his book. I could have sworn his book hadn’t been in there for a week, but maybe I hadn’t been paying attention. Out of nowhere, Darren started asking me how Grandma was doing.

  “Do you want me to go to the hospital with you again?” Darren asked. I felt weird, since Darren was now acting like he was my boyfriend or something. After all, he had only gone to the hospital once, yet he was making it sound like it was a regular thing. But I didn’t want to get into it in front of Brendon, so I just shook my head. Then Darren put his arm around me and gave me an awkward hug before he walked off.

  “Hospital? What’s going on?” Brendon asked.

  “Grandma had another stroke. Darren gave me a ride to the hospital, which is how he knew about it.”

  “Oh man, Em, you should have called me. I would have gone with you,” he said, putting his hand on my arm. “I had this feeling something was wrong, and I was going to call you, but—well, how is she?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not good this time. I’m not sure she can come back from it.”

  “Can I drive you home?”

  “My mom is already on her way to pick me up.”

  He walked me out and told my mom he was sorry to hear about Grandma.

  “I’ll call you,” he said and gave me a hug before walking away.

  “How come he didn’t know about Grandma?” my mother asked. I told her I didn’t feel like talking about it, but she wouldn’t let it go.

  “It’s no big deal. We’ve just been having some issues since he bailed on coming to my reading,” I said, but left out the dance part.

  “You owe him a second chance at least. You think your father goes to every event important to me? And think how many events of your dad’s I blow off? I’ve gotten out of reunions, company picnics—”

  “Mom, can you please leave it alone? I don’t want to think about guys right now.” And I didn’t want my mom to know I was such a loser my boyfriend had moved on less than thirty-six hours after we split up.

  I was so confused about my feelings for him. At times, I felt like we had this deep connection where he knew when I needed him and he understood me, but then I felt like he had let me down and didn’t care. I had enough to worry about with Grandma, and I didn’t want to let Brendon in again and then have him leave me, too. Besides, how could I be completely sure he even wanted a second chance? Just because he was nice to me at my locker didn’t mean he wanted to get back together.

  We got to the hospital, and the doctor said Grandma was now in a semi-coma, but she didn’t “appear to be in any physical pain.” Why couldn’t doctors ever talk like normal people? Even the simplest things sounded clinical and cold coming out of their mouths. The doctor said Grandma had thrown up right before we arrived. Mom tried talking to Grandma, and she seemed to respond to her voice. Grandma would sigh or scrunch up her face when we’d ask her things. I was anxious, and after a while, mom took me to get a cup of tea.

  “I know Grandma’s scared too, but I’m so uncomfortable in her room. And I get freaked out when she makes those noises,” I said, taking a sip of my tea. “Great, I just burned my tongue.”

  My mother blew on her cappuccino. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but yesterday, she rolled over, and I almost knocked a nurse down running out of the room. Honestly, I’m just not good in hospitals. I tried volunteering once at a hospital, and I passed out when I walked in a room where they were taking blood.”

  I felt better knowing I wasn’t the only one getting weirded out. Mom said my Aunt Caroline and Uncle George were coming on Friday to see Grandma. She asked if I’d stay with Grandpa while they were at the hospital.

  “By the way, Grandma said something last time I was here about a bracelet she wanted you to have. The pink and silver charm one you used to play with when you were little. I put it on your dresser,” she said. “Grandma said something about how you might need it. I don’t know exactly what she was trying to say because she was kind of out of it and slurring her words together.”

  “It’s rose quartz,” I said. “And she’s right—I do need it now.”

  “Why?”

  I didn’t want to tell her rose quartz was considered the “heart healing” and love stone, and since my love life was in the toilet, it just might help. Instead, I just said I wanted something of Grandma’s to make me feel better. I wondered if Grandma somehow sensed I needed it or if it was a weird coincidence.

  That night, Darren invited me to a party. I didn’t want to be around people, but he insisted.

  “It’ll take your mind off things,” he said.

  I said okay and wore Grandma’s bracelet. It became obvious the night was going to suck when we walked into the party and some guy stared at it and said, “What’s with the weird bracelet?”

  “It’s my grandma’s.”

  “Yeah, it looks like something an old lady would wear.”

  I held back my urge to smack the guy and fought off tears. Darren introduced me to a bunch of people who I couldn’t have cared less about meeting. I had a quart of organic dairy-free mint chocolate swirl ice cream waiting for me at home, and I would have rather stayed home, watching TV and eating.

  “
You want me to get you some pizza?” he asked. I shrugged, and he brought back two lemon-lime sodas and a slice of pepperoni and sausage pizza. I wasn’t a huge fan of lemon-lime soda, but I kept drinking it to avoid talking to anyone, and hello, I didn’t eat meat. I picked off all the pepperoni and sausage and managed a bite of pizza. His friend, Greg, took a look at my plate and said there was cheese pizza in the kitchen. I said this was okay, but I could taste the sausage grease on my slice.

  “Sorry, let me get you a different slice,” Darren said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  Unlike most guys, Darren actually stayed with me all night. Usually, guys walked in with you, and then went off with their friends while you sat there wondering what to do, but he made sure I was okay, and if I needed anything, he jumped up to get it.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “I was hoping this would take your mind off things, but I guess it would take a lot more than a party, huh?”

  “Yeah, but thanks for bringing me,” I said.

  “I just didn’t want you sitting home and worrying about your grandma. If I could do anything, you know I would, right?” he asked. He leaned forward like he was going to kiss me, but then he pulled away. On the way home, I tried to figure out why he pulled back. Was he afraid I wasn’t over Brendon? And did I want him to kiss me? Part of me was so hurt over Brendon and Lauren and didn’t want to date anyone, and part of me wished Darren hadn’t pulled away.

  When I got home, Dad told me Brendon called, but I just wanted to slip into my sweatpants and curl up in bed with my ice cream. I had just gotten underneath the covers when the phone rang. It was Darren wanting to know if I had heard anything about Grandma.

  “Nothing’s changed.” I didn’t feel like talking about it—it hurt too much, and I also wasn’t sure about my feelings for him. It didn’t seem right to have these heart-to-heart talks if he was going to think I was leading him on. I just wanted to get off the phone and think for a little bit.

  “Oh, hold on, I’m getting another call.” I clicked over, and it was Brendon. Since he had called before and I had just spent the last two hours with Darren, I switched back and told Darren I had go.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “Kylie,” I said, not wanting to confuse him—or myself. “Thanks for taking me to the party. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” I switched back over to Brendon.

  “How’s your grandma doing?” he asked.

  “She’s in a semi-coma, and the doctors are running more tests.”

  He offered to go with me to visit her, but I didn’t want him to have to go through it. Besides, he was just offering to be polite. Nobody in their right mind would want to sit in a hospital room—especially when someone in their family had also suffered a stroke. Who’d want to relive that?

  “How are you dealing with everything?” he asked.

  “Not well. I feel like I’m underwater half the time and super tired.”

  “I’ll let you go so you can get some sleep,” he said. “Just wanted to know if there was anything I could do. So…let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything.”

  The next morning my mother called the nurses’ station, and they said Grandma seemed more alert, but I had a bad feeling. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn’t shake it. My parents went to meet Aunt Caroline and Uncle George, and I stayed with Grandpa. The four of them were exhausted when they came home. Caroline was crying and holding Grandpa’s hand. He asked her what was wrong, and she didn’t answer. Later, Mom told me Dr. Anton didn’t think Grandma was going to improve, and they were going to move her to hospice care in a few days.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  Mom cleared her throat. “Well, it’s where people go when they’re not expected to improve.”

  “Do they know for sure, or are they just giving up on her?” I asked as tears rolled down my face.

  “She hasn’t come out of the semi-coma, and her latest scan showed there’s…well, a lot more damage from this latest stroke.”

  My body felt ice cold. “But some people are in hospice for months, right? Margaux’s great-aunt is in hospice, and they went to a baseball game with her a couple weeks ago.”

  “Emme, every case is different. I know it hurts, but we have to think of what’s best for her,” she said as she wiped her eyes.

  “I don’t want to be selfish, but I just want her here,” I said.

  “I know. Honey, I need to talk to you about how ‘out of it’ Grandpa has been lately. You know Aunt Caroline had called Grandma’s room on the day she had her stroke. Grandpa had picked up the phone, and he was confused.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Grandpa said she couldn’t talk, and Caroline asked where she was, and he said, ‘On the floor,’ and Caroline said, ‘What do you mean on the floor?’ So she called the nurses’ station from her cell phone, and they came running.”

  “But all you have to do to alert the nurses is hit the blue thingy on the phone, and they come right away. Why didn’t Caroline just have Grandpa call them?” I asked.

  “Well, Caroline couldn’t believe Grandpa hadn’t done it himself,” she said. “When he didn’t react, she knew something was wrong. Grandma said he had been slipping lately, but I don’t think we realized it had gotten so bad. I was hoping him not asking about Grandma was about being in shock or denial, but it’s more serious, and it’s not going to get any better. Em, I don’t know what we’re going to do. We have to keep a closer eye on him, okay?”

  I nodded.

  That evening I went downstairs to get a glass of apple juice. Grandpa was getting ready for bed, and he came over to give me a kiss.

  “Good night, sweetheart,” he said. “Now where do I sleep?”

  “You’re sleeping in the guest room, remember?”

  “Oh, right, right, right. The guest room.” He nodded.

  I knew he didn’t remember where the room was, so I walked him to the place where he had slept every single time he had ever stayed at our house. He climbed into the bed, and I put the blanket over him.

  “Where’s Mom sleeping?” he asked.

  I didn’t feel like getting into it and upsetting him, so I said she was in the other room. He seemed satisfied with my answer, and I switched off the light. My parents were in the family room, and I sat next to my mom.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked.

  “About Grandpa?” she asked, and I nodded. “He’s going to stay here for a while, and then he’s going to stay with Aunt Caroline until we can find something more permanent.”

  “Like a nursing home? Mom, the place Grandma was in made me want to kill myself. Plus, Grandma had a lot of issues with walking and needed around-the-clock care—for her it was a safety thing, but you can’t put him in there. We can take care of him.”

  “Emme, it’s getting harder and harder the more confused he gets, and it might be best for him to be someplace where there are others more—”

  “He’s not like those people. Some of them don’t even know where they are,” I said.

  “Does he?” my dad asked.

  “Yes, he just gets a little confused sometimes.”

  “Em, he doesn’t even know what’s going on with your grandmother,” he said. “We need to take him back to the doctor because I think he has Alzheimer’s—”

  “Clint, his doctor, said it’s hardening of the arteries, and it’s just gotten worse,” my mother said.

  “Well, I think they’re wrong,” he said. “Let’s just take him in for a checkup anyway.”

  “Fine.” My mother got up. “Good night.”

  Chapter 15

  Grandma was still in a semi-coma the next day. The nurse came in, and I told him she had squeezed my hand.

  “Probably just a reflex. I wouldn’t read too much into it,” he said.

  “But the morning nurse thought she seemed more alert.”

  “Mara is young. I don’t want to give you false hope,” he said as he walked out the door. I made a f
ace at my mother.

  “He’s a disciple of doom. He should not be around sick people,” I said. “Grandma could get up and salsa dance, and he’d say it was a reflex and oh, don’t read too much into it.”

  My mom cleared her throat. “He doesn’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “Whatever. How can Grandma get well with someone like him around? Kylie says your attitude has a lot to do with your recovery, and he’s just a big, stupid—”

  “Yeah, well, your dad’s not much better these days,” she said.

  Dr. Anton came in, and I got up and asked if we could talk in the hall. My mom followed me. I didn’t want to talk in front of Grandma in case she could hear us because I only wanted her to hear positive things.

  “They’re moving her to hospice tomorrow,” Dr. Anton said.

  “So you don’t think there’s any chance she’ll recover?” I asked.

  “Not unless she wakes up, and even then, as you know, the test results showed she wouldn’t have her sight, and she probably wouldn’t be able to speak either,” Dr. Anton said.

  “What?” I stared at my mother, and when she nodded, I realized she already knew. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We didn’t think she’d come out of the coma and didn’t see the need to upset you,” she said.

  “So what are they going to do for her at hospice?” I asked. “She can’t feed herself, so what do you do then? A feeding tube or something?”

  “Her living will allowed for the tube, but it said nothing extraordinary, so there will be no ventilators if she should require one,” Dr. Anton said. “There’s nothing more we can do. Now we just want to make her comfortable.”

  “Emme, Grandma would be terrified if she woke up and she couldn’t speak or see,” Mom said. “And the doctors don’t think she’s going to wake up at all.”

  “But she’s trying. She’s been making noises and squeezing my hand like this,” I grabbed Dr. Anton’s hand, which made her jump.