The Odds of Loving Grover Cleveland

by Rebekah Crane

  “How could she?” I say with ragged breath. “How could she?”

  Grover picks me up and presses me to him. He kisses my cheeks and forehead and nose.

  “I’m sorry,” he says into my ear. “I’m sorry.”

  He brushes my hair out of my face, keeping his hands on my cheeks. A fire lights in my stomach as what Cassie just did settles in. It burns and hurts.

  “I did what you asked. All I’ve worried about is what Cassie needs.” I pace back and forth in front of Grover. My voice grows louder with the more words I say. “But what about me? I’m happy for the first time in years, maybe ever. I’m happy! And she’s ruining it. She is ruining my happiness.” I stop in my tracks, reality coming clear in my mind. “She’s broken, Grover. I can’t save her. You can’t save her. No one can save her. She’s broken and she’ll stay that way forever.”

  After the words fall out of my mouth, the sound of someone approaching us catches my attention.

  I turn to find Cassie standing in the trees, her jaw jutting forward as she bites down hard.

  “I was coming to apologize,” she says.

  I freeze.

  “You think I’m broken . . . forever.” Cassie says my own words back at me. I step toward her, but she moves away. “You know what? I don’t need you.” And then she starts running.

  Grover and I finally catch up to Cassie down on the beach. She’s fast when she wants to be. She walks straight up to Madison and says, “I want to test for green.”

  “What?” Madison says.

  “Are you deaf, Mads? I want to test for green.”

  I grab on to Cassie’s arm. “What are you doing?”

  She yanks out of my grip. “I don’t need you.”

  “Sticks.”

  Cassie points at Grover. “Or you.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Madison asks.

  “Just test me.” Cassie pushes past us and goes out onto the dock. Madison hesitates for a moment and then grabs the diving sticks from inside the equipment shed and walks out to meet her. I stand on the beach next to Grover, biting my nails.

  Cassie strips down to her bathing suit. When I can’t take it anymore, I grab Grover’s hand and pull him out onto the dock.

  “Don’t do this, Cassie,” I yell at her.

  “Put the stick in the lake,” Cassie barks at Madison.

  And Madison does it. I look at her like she’s crazy. Cassie will drown and Madison knows it. Cassie’s barely been able to get one stick out of six feet let alone twelve feet.

  “It’s okay, Zander, I won’t let anything happen,” Madison says. She turns to Cassie. “You have to get the stick and bring it back to the surface.”

  I watch as Cassie nods and squeezes her hands at her side.

  “Please, Cassie.” I try one last time.

  She looks me dead in the eyes. “You don’t believe in me.”

  And then Cassie jumps in.

  I pull in a breath as her body hits the water. Grover grabs my hand as Cassie’s pink bathing suit disappears from the surface and goes lower into the blue. I count the seconds in my head. One . . . two . . . three . . . I hold air tight in my lungs. Four . . . five . . . six . . . I peer over the side of the dock. My nerves spike.

  “Come on,” I whisper. “Come on.”

  But Cassie doesn’t come back up, and the seconds tick on longer.

  “This isn’t good,” Grover says.

  Madison takes off the shirt that’s covering her bathing suit. “I’m going in to get her.” And a second later, she dives in after Cassie.

  I grab on to Grover and pray. I pray to St. Anthony of Padua that the lost be found. That the soul be free. That life be everlasting. And that Cassie makes it back up to the surface.

  I say it over three times before Madison pops back up with Cassie in her arms. They both gasp for breath. Madison drags Cassie over to the dock as Grover reaches down for her. Cassie slumps over and coughs water out of her nose and mouth.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, wiping water from Cassie’s face and hair.

  “I didn’t make it,” she says and coughs. “I didn’t make it.”

  “It’s okay, Cassie.” I begin to wipe more water from her skin, but Cassie backs away from my touch. She stands up on the dock, her knees shaky and her chest heaving in ragged breaths.

  “No it’s not.” She pushes past me, knocking my arm with so much force I fall down.

  Madison sits winded on the end of the dock, a shocked look on her face. “She almost drowned,” she says. “I can’t believe she almost drowned.”

  I watch Cassie run up the stairs, wobbly on her legs and dripping with water. She disappears into the trees around the mess hall.

  I don’t see Cassie again until dinner. I wait for her in the cabin, rolling Hannah’s gimp key chain around in my hand. The melted end is starting to fray and come apart. Madison said courage takes multiple forms. That it doesn’t have to be skydiving or bungee jumping. That for some people just getting up every day is an act of courage. That the smallest act can have the biggest effect.

  I get the University of Arizona sweatshirt out of my bag. It feels like I’ve stolen it from Cassie, and she needs to have it. One small gesture of courage—I put it on her bed.

  Cassie isn’t in the mess hall when I arrive for dinner. I go through the line and sit down, my eyes watching the door for her. When she finally appears, I touch Grover’s leg.

  She grabs a tray and walks down the line of food. Her body looks different. Cassie normally walks with her chest out, but tonight her shoulders round down toward the ground. Even her neck seems to hang lower. She passes all of the food, never putting an item on her tray.

  I press my hand into Grover’s thigh and wait for Cassie to sit down with us. At the end of the line, she turns to face the entire mess hall of campers. Many are staring at her, the news of what happened traveling fast.

  Cassie blinks and looks around the room before walking over to Madison. The room is so quiet everyone can hear what she says.

  “I don’t feel well, Madison. Can I go lie down for the night?” A look of complete shock washes over Madison’s face as she fumbles with her words. “Can I, please?”

  Madison nods quickly. Cassie sets her empty tray down on the table and walks out of the mess hall.

  “I miss her already,” Bek says, staring at Cassie’s empty seat.

  “What do we do?” I look at Grover.

  “I’m not sure it’s about us anymore.” Grover exhales. “It was never about us.”

  When I get back to the cabin, Cassie is there. She lies with her back to me, the University of Arizona sweatshirt back on my bed.

  No one says anything as we brush our teeth. Cassie doesn’t move, except for her back going up and down with inhales and exhales. I glance at her every few seconds.

  When the cabin goes dark and I’m in my bed, I say, “Good night, Cassie.”

  She doesn’t respond. I hug her sweatshirt to my chest and press it to my nose. It smells like her.

  A nightmare shakes me awake. Or a memory. I sit up straight in the middle of the night.

  “She called her Madison,” I whisper. “She called her Madison.” My stomach churns. I look at Cassie’s bed. She’s gone. The bathroom window is open and letting the smallest breeze through the slight crack. I get Cassie’s duffel bag from under her bed and rip open the side pocket with her diet pills. They’re gone. All of them. My heart pounds loud in my ears.

  “I need the key!” I scream as I shake Madison awake. “I need the key!”

  Madison looks at me, confused and scared. She yanks the key from around her neck, breaking the chain, and hands it over.

  I run to the door as everyone stirs in the cabin, my hands shaking as I try to force the key into the lock.

  “Get me out of here!” I scream. Madison is at my side in a second. She takes the key and slides it in with ease. The door pops open. I don’t wait for permission. I take off toward the lake, my feet
barely able to keep up with my torso.

  “I pray that the lost be found. That the soul be free. That life be everlasting.”

  At the mess hall, I stumble down the stairs toward the beach. My toe stubs on something, but I barely feel it. All I feel are my fingers squeezing the sweatshirt in my hands as tight as I can as I run.

  My feet hit the sand, slowing me down, but I fight forward.

  Madison said that sometimes people misuse courage.

  I run to where the water meets the land.

  Sometimes people do things that are harmful and hurtful because they’re scared or lonely or desperate.

  I look out at Lake Kimball, my hands numb and my heart on the verge of exploding. Tears streak my face.

  They call it courage.

  I see bottles floating on the surface of the water. Pill bottles.

  I drop the sweatshirt on the ground. Cassie floats next to them. Facedown.

  PERSEVERANCE

  CHAPTER 29

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  When Molly was first in the hospital, you took me to see her. I walked into the room with all those machines. It was louder than I thought it would be. I asked you what I was supposed to do. You said to just talk to her like I always did. That she could hear me.

  But I never talked to Molly other than when I helped Mom feed her. I’d tell her to open wide and then pretend the spoon was an airplane coming in for a landing.

  She was small in the bed. I touched her legs and thought about how they would never walk again. And then I thought about all the words that we would never say to each other because as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Molly wasn’t waking up. She wasn’t.

  When my time was up in the room, you sent me outside to sit by myself. I sat leaning against the cold hospital wall, and all I could see in my head were Molly’s little legs. And all I could think about was how much it hurt to know she’d never walk again. It hurt so badly, I wanted to rip my own legs off and give them to her.

  Instead, I balled myself up. I pulled my legs into my chest and squeezed my arms around my knees and ground my teeth together. I closed my eyes so tightly I thought my eyelids might break. And I promised myself I would never feel this bad again. I would never feel this bad again. I would never feel this bad again.

  Love,

  Z

  I dive into the water and swim as fast as I’ve ever swum. Faster than any meet. I flip Cassie’s body over in the water. Her face is dark in the blackness around us and her eyes are closed. All that is illuminated in the night is her hot-pink bathing suit as I pull her back to shore.

  I drag her up on the beach and start screaming for Grover. I scream over and over and over again. Then I start mouth to mouth. I don’t know what I’m doing. I push air into Cassie and pump on her chest and nothing happens.

  I scream for Grover again.

  Someone grabs my arm. I flip my wet hair out of my face and find Madison. She pulls me off of Cassie, even though I fight against her. I scream mean words that I never thought I could scream, but Madison pushes me back on the sand.

  “You don’t give a shit about her! You want her dead! You want her dead!”

  Madison ignores me and pushes Cassie’s hair back on her face to start CPR. Real CPR.

  I cry, sitting on the ground, my tears and the water on my clothes collecting sand. I yell for Grover again.

  And then he’s here. He’s grabbing me and asking me what happened.

  “You were supposed to watch her,” I say to him. “You said you were going to watch her.”

  “I know, Zander. I’m so sorry.” Grover grabs my face, but I need to see Cassie. I need to see her.

  I push him back and try to get around Madison, but Kerry is here now, blocking my way. And Hayes. And everyone from my cabin.

  Lights flash up the hill by the mess hall—red and white in the darkness. Men in uniforms run down to the beach, but they’re all just blocking my view. I need to see her.

  Grover tries to hold me back as I push at people and scream. This is what everyone wanted. They wanted me to feel and scream and cry, and now that I’m doing it, no one is listening to me.

  “I need to see her,” I say through ragged breaths to Grover. I grab on to his shirt and twist it between my fists. “I need to see her.”

  “I know, Zander.” He takes me in his long arms and I melt into my tears, collapsing onto the sand in my sobs.

  Cassie gets put on a long board, and the EMTs carry her quickly up the stairs. I scramble across the sand and get the sweatshirt.

  “She needs her sweatshirt!” I yell after them. “She’ll be cold when she wakes up.”

  Kerry steps in front of me as I’m about to race up the stairs and stops me. “Just let them do their job, Zander.”

  “But she needs this.” I hold up her shirt. He doesn’t understand that it’s hers. He stands still, not budging from his place. I take a breath, trying to calm myself. “Please, let me go with her.”

  “I’m sorry but my answer is no.”

  “Please, Kerry.” I grab on to him like a life jacket, like he’s the only thing that has the power to keep me floating.

  “I’ll take her with me.” Madison comes up next to us. “It’s the right thing to do, Kerry.”

  He shakes his head and exhales, and at that moment I think it’s over. I might never see Cassie again. Then Kerry nods. “Fine, but you’re in charge of her. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  I run up the stairs behind Madison, only stopping once to glance back at Grover, who sits on the beach with his head in his hands. When he smacks the ground, I feel a piece of my heart break into a million shards of glass.

  Madison and I pass through the gates that divide Camp Padua from the rest of the world as the sun begins to rise.

  CHAPTER 30

  Dear Mom and President Cleveland,

  I have failed. I must be impeached.

  Your son,

  Grover Cleveland

  Every hospital smells the same, like cotton balls dipped in alcohol sprinkled with death.

  The doctors won’t let me back to see her. They say she’s not awake anyway.

  I sit next to Madison in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, just breathing.

  My clothes have dried and my hair hangs limp on my head. Limp. Like Cassie’s body was.

  “Is she going to die?”

  Madison twists her fingers together. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t want her to die.”

  “Contrary to what you think, neither do I.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I was scared. I didn’t mean it.”

  Madison places her hand on my back. “It’s okay.”

  “Why have you put up with Cassie this whole time?” I ask.

  Madison exhales a long breath and says, “We all have our crazy, Zander.”

  “You don’t seem to,” I say.

  Madison shakes her head. “I spent last spring break at the psych ward with my mom. It’s the fourth time I’ve been called out of school to deal with her. My dad gave up years ago, but I just can’t seem to.”

  I try not to act shocked but I am. Madison just seems so perfect.

  “I know what my thing is now,” I say. A smile grows on Madison’s face. “It’s Cassie.”

  “Make sure you tell her that.” She stands up and motions down the hallway toward the cafeteria. “Do you want some coffee?”

  “Coffee?”

  “I figure since we’re not on camp property anymore, we can have a little pick-me-up.”

  “Dori called coffee ‘life support.’”

  Madison nods. “Today, that just might be true.”

  “I’ll take two cups.”

  “You got it.” Madison musters a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, which look bloodshot and tired. She pats my shoulder. “When she wakes up, make sure to tell her what you told me.”

  “Which part?”

  “The part where you said you don’t want her to
die.” I start crying again, but nod at Madison through the tears. “Tell her I said the same thing,” she says over her shoulder as she walks down the hallway to get us some life support.

  Hours pass. Kerry shows up at the hospital. He doesn’t look good. In fact, he looks terrible. His hair is matted to his head and his cheeks are splotched in red. Doctors come out and talk to him, and he nods and runs his hands through his hair and slumps his shoulders even more. I can’t tell what anyone is saying, and it drives me even crazier than I already feel.

  The doctors pull him behind the big automatic doors they took Cassie through before I can even get out of my chair. Madison pats my leg again. Five cups of coffee sit on the table in front of us.

  Kerry is gone for a long time—too long. My knee bounces uncontrollably as my foot taps on the ground. When Kerry finally comes back, he walks over and looks at the cups.

  “We needed it,” Madison says before he can comment. Kerry nods.

  “She’s stable.” When he says the words, my body collapses into itself. I go limp in the chair from holding on so strong. Blood rushes to my toes and I think I might pass out, but Madison grabs my hand and holds on tight. “They pumped her stomach to get rid of the pills. She’s got some bad bruising on her chest and a broken rib from the CPR compressions.”

  “That’s not so bad,” I say.

  Kerry looks at me wide-eyed. Clearly, he wasn’t finished. “There’s damage to her heart, Zander. To take that many diet pills with such a small body. And to live practically starved every day? She had a minor heart attack.”

  “But she’ll be okay, right?” I sit forward in my seat.

  Kerry shakes his head, like he can’t answer the question for sure. “I hope so,” he says. “I hope to God she’ll be okay.”

  Madison calls the camp to let them know what’s happened, and Kerry talks to more doctors who say Cassie has to stay in the hospital for at least three days of physical and psychiatric observation. I wait in my seat until they tell me I can go in and see her.

  Eventually, Kerry comes to get me. I stand up, like my feet are spring loaded.