by Denise Vega
My mom brushed her hand over my head. “I know you feel you are, honey, but the hospital doesn’t see it that way.”
Dad sighed. “We’ll keep checking. Every day.”
“He’ll be okay,” Chris said. “It’s Mr. F.”
“Right,” I said, but I covered my face with my hands.
CHAPTER 38
CODE RED, CHERRY RED
THE WHOLE WEEK WAS A blur. I went to class, went to I-Club, did my homework, and worried about Mr. F. But then sometimes I’d forget he was in the hospital and I’d look for him and see strangers washing the windows and wiping the floors and then I’d remember he wasn’t here to talk to.
But I did get to chat with him for a few minutes Thursday afternoon.
“Don’t let them mess with my closets,” he told me when I mentioned the new custodians.
“They had to hire two to take your place,” I said.
“Of course,” he said, and we both chuckled. His ended in a cough and I gripped the phone hard.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes,” he said impatiently. “Everyone is making a big deal out of nothing. This heart is as strong as ever.”
I smiled. “You’d better be right. It’s not the same without you.”
“I appreciate that, Erin P. Swift.” He sounded tired but cheerful and I felt better.
In addition to keeping an eye on the temporary custodians, I watched Mark and Carla. It seemed like every time I turned a corner, they were together, heads nearly touching, talking and laughing, and it hurt. Mark had been one of my best friends and now he wasn’t anything. I hated it; hated him for not handling everything better.
I was glad I had Jeff and the party to focus on. Friday afternoon I sat in my room, staring out the window. I was picturing myself at the party, seeing Jeff across the room, having his eyes light up as I walked over to him. He’d put his arm around me and introduce me and we would look at each other, remembering our shared times in the Mustang, knowing we’d have lots more.
The following Tuesday we heard that Mr. F had moved to a different room where he could have visitors. Everyone cheered. I was impatient to get home to see if I could visit but Mrs. F beat me to it by calling my parents first.
“Jacob would like to see Erin tomorrow,” she said. “But no one else from the school,” she told my mom. “Just Erin.”
Hospitals stink. Not just because Mr. F was in one, but they just smell. They’re full of sick people, except for the maternity ward, and they have that hospital smell that makes you want to turn around and run right back out and suck in the cool, fresh, outside-the-hospital air.
But I didn’t run back out because Mr. F was in there.
“He’s pretty weak,” the nurse outside his room said. “Please limit your time.”
“Thank you,” my dad said.
As I looked at the door, my legs seemed to turn to rubber. I hung back, clutching my mom’s arm for support. “I can’t go in,” I whispered.
“Take a deep breath,” my mom said. “Give yourself a minute.”
I glanced up at her. “I’ll need more than a minute.” I’d need an hour. A day. Maybe a whole year to get up the courage to walk in and see Mr. F in a hospital bed. I thought I could do this, but now I realized I couldn’t. Maybe he didn’t want to see me. Maybe Mrs. F had gotten it all wrong and he said everyone from school except Erin.
“It’s okay to stay out here, Erin,” my dad said. “We can go in and explain.”
I frowned. The thought of my parents going in and saying I was right outside but didn’t have the guts to come in was too much.
“No,” I said. “I’ll go in.”
“He’ll look different,” my mom said. “But he’s the same person.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight. “And that’s who you’ll see,” she whispered into my hair. “The person he is inside. The person you know in your heart.”
Tears sprang to my eyes and I squeezed them shut, breathing deeply into her shoulder. Then I pulled away, wiping my eyes.
“Do I look like I’ve been crying?”
My mom brushed her finger under my eye. “You look like you’ve been caring.”
“Come on, Mom,” I said. “Do I have red eyes or not?”
“No,” she said, smiling. “You look fine.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
“Well, look who’s here,” Mr. F said when we stepped into the room. He had tubes running every which way—out his nose, from his arm, one snaking out beneath the thin white sheet that covered him. My stomach clutched, but I put the MES (Mature Erin Smile) on my face and kept walking.
“I feel like a science experiment,” he said, lifting his tube-infested arm.
“You look like one,” I said and everyone laughed, which helped. I stood next to the bed and he raised his fist. I knocked it with mine, trying not to notice the way the tubes taped to the top of his hand wiggled.
“So glad you came.” Mrs. F gave us all a hug.
Mr. F patted my hand. “I’m worried about my Tootsie Pops. Those can’t fall into the wrong hands.”
I smiled. “I can bring them here if you want.”
“I’d appreciate that,” he said. “So, how’s Reede?”
“Fine,” I said, glancing briefly at my mom. “We’ve been hanging out.”
“Good,” Mr. F said. “She needs the kind of friend you can be. Remember the wisdom of the Tootsie Pop.” He rearranged himself in the bed. “And the website? How’s that going?”
“So far, so good,” I said. “Steve keeps doing crazy things, but it’s working.”
Mr. F started to say something but ended up wheezing.
“Are you okay?” I reached for his hand, squeezing it tight.
“It’s all this stuff they’re doing to me,” he said when he’d caught his breath. “Can’t breathe, can’t talk, can’t hardly eat or use the facilities.”
My mom squeezed my shoulder from behind. “It’s time for us to go anyway.”
I gripped his hand and we held each others’ eyes. Then he released his hand and dropped it to the bed.
“I’ll be back with the Tootsies,” I said, knocking his tubed-up fist.
“I’ll look forward to it,” he said. He was smiling when I left, his face slightly pink instead of the gray we’d seen when we first arrived.
On Monday I got the Tootsie Pops from Mr. F’s closet and brought them home. Mom and I bought more Tootsie Pops and I put the new flavors on top.
We went by to see him on Tuesday but he was sleeping. Out in the hall, I held out the jar of Tootsie Pops to Mrs. F but she shook her head.
“Would you mind bringing them when you come back?” she asked. “I want him to see you and the Tootsie Pops at the same time.”
I looked at my mom, who opened her PDA and clicked around.
“We can come on Friday,” she said.
I nodded. Friday was the party but it would still work if we went right after school. I needed to be at the bus stop at six forty-five to make the transfers so I could meet Reede at eight o’clock at a restaurant near the party house to change.
“See you then.” Mrs. F squeezed my arm and stepped back into Mr. F’s room.
CHAPTER 39
PARTY GIRL
I WAS OVER AT JILLY’S house the night before the party because I had insisted she dress me. This was too important to leave in the hands of an amateur like me. As she walked to her closet, she said, “So Chris is definitely not going to be at this party?”
I shook my head. “I heard him making plans with Bethany. They thought about going but decided to go to a movie instead. Just the two of them.”
“Well, that’s good. Can you imagine if you ran into him? He’d kill you on the spot.”
We laughed but inwardly I shuddered. Seeing my brother would be the worst.
Jilly laid out three outfits on her bed. I chose a black lacy V-neck and jean skirt. I gulped. The skirt was a lot shorter th
an any of mine.
Holding the outfit up in front of me, I turned from side to side. “Well?”
“If Jeff doesn’t go crazy for you, he’s crazy,” Jilly said as she put the clothes in a bag. “Go get him.”
On Friday, butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I thought about what I was going to do that night. I could hardly concentrate on our history test. I kept picturing myself in Jilly’s outfit, talking easily with older guys before chatting with Jeff in a cozy corner of some house.
When I got home that afternoon, my mom was in the kitchen, talking on the phone.
“That’s fine,” she said. “I understand. We’ll be there around six.” She hung up the phone and looked at me. “You won’t be able to go to Jilly’s until later, honey. That was Mrs. Foslowski. Mr. Foslowski has a test scheduled for four so she’d prefer we didn’t come until six.”
Six? That ruined everything. There was no way I could get to the hospital, visit with Mr. F, come back here, and make it to the bus stop in time to meet Reede.
“Isn’t that kind of late?” I said. “Won’t he be eating dinner or something?”
“Margo felt like this was the best time so that’s when we’ll go.”
I called Reede for help.
“The next set of buses for your transfers won’t get us to the party until ten thirty or later,” she said. “That’s just not going to work. Isn’t there any way you can get out of it?”
I sighed. How could I not go see Mr. F? I still hadn’t given him the Tootsie Pop jar.
But how could I not go to this party?
“I’ll be there,” I told her. I’d just have to figure something out.
“What’s wrong with you?” Chris said as I picked at my food. We were eating dinner early so we could get to the hospital in time. My party clothes were folded neatly in a backpack near the front door. Would I get to wear them?
“Nothing,” I said. “It’s just that I’m kind of feeling bad about visiting Mr. F right after a test. He’ll probably be tired.” I looked at my mom. “And you look tired.”
My mom sighed. “I am pretty exhausted. I was up until one a.m. meeting a deadline. I don’t do those late nights very well anymore.”
My dad patted her arm.
“Maybe I could call Mrs. F and see if we can come in the morning,” I said. “Mr. F will probably feel a lot better after a full night’s sleep.”
My mom smiled. “That’s very thoughtful, Erin. I think we’d all be a little fresher tomorrow.”
I smiled, ignoring the guilty twinge in my stomach when she’d called me thoughtful. It was a good idea, even if it wasn’t just about Mr. F.
“You know we’d love to see you tonight,” Mrs. F said when I called. “But tomorrow would probably be better for all of us.”
“Can I talk to him?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Erin, but they’ve still got him downstairs for that test,” she said. “I’ll tell him you called.”
“I’ll try to call him later,” I said. I could at least do that. “Tell him the jar is completely full of Tootsie Pops. New flavors, too.”
Mrs. F laughed. “I’ll tell him.”
An hour later, I stood at the front door with my backpack slung over one shoulder. “I’ll pick you up at ten so we can get to the hospital right away,” my mom said when I pretended to set out for Jilly’s. “Are you sure you don’t want me to give you a ride? It’s kind of cold out.”
I shook my head. “It feels good. And it’s only a few blocks.”
“Okay,” she said. “Call us when you get there.”
I couldn’t look back at her as I headed down the street. Even though we weren’t always seeing eye to eye, I had never lied quite this ginormously before. But sometimes you have to make your own decisions. Try new things. Take risks. At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I walked quickly down the street toward Jilly’s, where I would double back and head for the bus stop. Besides, it wasn’t hurting anyone. I’d go to the party and have fun, come back, sneak into Jilly’s house, and we’d see Mr. F in the morning.
Everything would be fine.
I made the bus transfers no problem and called Jilly from a pay phone after I got off at the last stop. That was her idea—she didn’t want her number showing up on Caller ID. She could always say the pay phone number was a wrong number. I had told her she’d make a good spy.
“I just got off the last bus,” I reported. “I’m not far from the restaurant where I’m supposed to meet Reede.”
“Nervous?”
“Very.”
“You’ve got more guts than I do, Erin.”
I smiled, but inside my stomach was twisting in on itself.
“So, tell me again what you’re going to do if Jeff is with another girl,” Jilly said. She had made me rehearse this with her over and over. “That way,” she had explained, “if it happens, you won’t freak out. It’ll be a bummer but at least it’ll feel a little bit like you’ve already been through it.” I had no idea Jilly’s drama background would come in handy with relationships and guys.
“I’m going to smile, say hi, then turn and talk to the first cute guy I see, as if I don’t care.”
“Right,” Jilly said. I heard voices in the background. “Time for dinner. Call me later.”
I hung up the phone and hurried down the block, picking up my pace as I spotted Reede.
“Hurry up,” she said when I got to her. “It’s freezing.”
The restaurant was so crowded, no one even noticed us as we wove our way through to the bathrooms in the back.
Reede was already dressed in a skimpy tank, black skirt, tights, and boots. She added more makeup and some different earrings while I changed in a stall. Then she did my makeup.
“You have eyelashes to die for,” Reede said as she rubbed some shimmering shadow below my brow. Then she added some body jewels to my neckline and some to my left bicep.
She tugged at my shirt and my eyes dropped to my chest in the mirror. Jilly’s shirt was tighter than any of my shirts and I was very aware of my perky petes standing out there for everyone to see. I hoped they—and I—were ready for prime time.
Twenty minutes later we stood on the sidewalk in front of a house that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Muted music wafted through the open front door and people were streaming in and out, each one with a cup or bottle or can in hand. The laughter and shouting got louder as we got closer. I hesitated at the walkway leading to the front steps.
My first high school party. Was I really doing this? Me, Erin Penelope Swift, rule follower, good girl, positive influence?
“This is your night,” Reede said, as if reading my mind. “Strut it.”
Taking a deep breath, I nodded. Then I swung my hips towards her and we both laughed as we walked up the front steps.
The music seemed to shake the house. People were everywhere, pushed up against the walls in the entry, spilling out of the kitchen, filling up the living room where a big screen TV glowed. I grabbed Reede’s hand, afraid I’d lose her in the crowd. She shook it off so I had to keep my eyes on her blond head as we nudged our way to the stairs, where more people sat or stood.
“’Scuse us,” Reede muttered, stepping over a pair of legs and narrowly missing a foaming cup of beer on the next step. We reached the second floor, where the music was only slightly less booming; we still had to shout to be heard. After wandering around for awhile, she shook her head. “Let’s go back downstairs.”
I followed, eager to find Jeff and see what he thought of my stuff.
CHAPTER 40
STRANDED
IN THE FEW MINUTES WE were upstairs, the population seemed to have doubled downstairs. The staircase was now completely filled and we had to squeeze our way through. I got stuck against the wall as two girls shoved their way up. One of them did a double take, staring at me.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she said, eyes roaming my body. “What are you doing here?”
“Who is
it?” her friend asked.
Amanda Worthington ignored her. “Is your brother here?”
“Excuse us,” I said, “we’re looking for someone.” I pushed past her and moved as quickly as I could down the stairs. “Great,” I shouted to Reede as we got closer to the music. “Now everyone is going to know we were here.”
“Who was that?” Reede shouted back.
“Serena’s sister.”
Reede shrugged. “Who cares? You’ll be the cool one for coming to this party.” I didn’t want to think about who else would know once Amanda started talking. We stashed our backpacks behind a sofa in the living room and Reede put her hands on her hips, surveying the crowd. Suddenly she stiffened, swearing under her breath.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said, her eyes glued to something or someone across the room. “I just need to take care of something. We’ll hook up later, okay?”
“WHAT?”
“I just need to talk to some people,” she said.
“Why can’t I come with you?” I hated the slight whine in my voice. But I didn’t want to be left with all these strangers. Older strangers. With beer and cigarettes and who knew what else.
Reede’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Grow up, Erin. This is a chance to prove you’re not just another middle school infant.” She stared at me. “I didn’t make a mistake inviting you, did I? You can handle being here without a babysitter, can’t you?”
I stared back, my heart pounding—with anger at her for abandoning me and defiance at her challenge. “I don’t need a babysitter,” I said. “Just go.”
Her furrowed brow smoothed out and she smiled. “That’s my girl,” she said. “We’ll find each other later.”
No, we won’t, I thought as she walked away, waving without looking back before being swallowed up in a sea of swaying bodies. My mind spewed out a few choice names for her. I thought about going after her and saying them to her face when I felt a hand on my butt. I turned to see who had touched me, but there were too many people and no one was looking at me. I ducked around two guys, knocking one on the elbow. Beer sloshed across my shoulder.
