The Home employee hands out wristbands and makes sure we plug emergency numbers into our phones. Caitlin and I do it without being told, but the others sort of grumble.
“Just do it,” Caitlin says. “It’s not like it will kill you.” We share a knowing look with each other that says Can you believe these people?
I sigh in response. Whatever will they do when they are responsible for their fragile health 24/7?
“I don’t understand why they can’t just trust us to take care of ourselves,” Luis complains.
Caitlin tenses beside me. After dealing with me and my bullshit, she’s roughly 2.5 seconds away from going nuclear on these newbies. This trip is supposed to be about us getting away from the hospital and all its accoutrements for a day.
“Maybe because there’s a lump in your neck threatening your life?” I say in a perfectly perky tone. For good measure, I plaster on a smile and look up at him through my eyelashes. I care, and he’s going to remember it.
I step up to him and tilt my head back so that I can look up at his face. He gave me the hard truth the night we met, returning the favor’s a bitch. “Face it, Big C or little, you have cancer. Your body is literally trying to kill you. The people who let us come here only let us out if we have a direct line to—”
“Major medical support,” Caitlin adds. “So put a number in your phone and call if you need it.”
With a shrug and a huff, Luis digs out his phone and stabs in the emergency contact. He adjusts his beanie and mumbles what I swear sounds like “I’m practically an adult.” Satisfied, the volunteer shoos us off toward the entrance.
Inside, we shed coats, gloves, and scarves, shoving all our winter weather gear into a locker, which takes all four of us to close. I bounce on the balls of my feet, too excited to see Jack.
“We need some kind of plan,” Ryan says, trying to harness our chaotic energy. He pushes his black hair out of his eyes and hits each of us with a pointed look.
I give Ryan a look that says No. You’re cute, but no.
“Since this is my party,” Luis says, taking charge, “rides first.”
Ryan leads us through the fastest route to the rides, since he lives closest to Morelands. Newer rides crowd the ones I grew up with—aka the ones that I know are safe—and just my luck, Luis drags us toward a new one.
“That needs to be pre-ridden,” I say, pulling up short. Luis, Veronica, and Ryan all stop and look as if I stuttered and turn back, confused.
“Yup, most definitely,” Caitlin agrees, stepping to the side next to me. “Spinal issues.”
Luis’s mouth forms an O, our reluctance finally clicking for him.
“I’ll hang back too,” Veronica says, eyeing the ride with skepticism.
“Okay, Kim, it’s you and me.”
“What should we be on the lookout for?” Ryan asks, pulling away from Luis and moving closer to me. I guess he’s taking his medical coach job seriously. He stops so close to me I can smell the fabric softener on his clothes. His brown eyes linger on me and I try to focus on the task at hand. Rides.
Right.
“Does it jostle? Does it have sudden stops? How hard? Throw you against the restraints?” Caitlin rattles off, almost pushing herself between us. It breaks the gravitational pull between Ryan and me, and I step back, suddenly self-conscious at how close we were.
“We’ll report back,” Ryan says, grabbing Luis by the back of his sweatshirt and dragging him toward the ride.
We find a bench close to the ride and sit down—my body already feeling the strain of the day. Caitlin tilts her face up as if she can catch rays of sun through the opaque windows high above our heads and pulls out her phone.
“Do you have to do that often?” Veronica asks, pulling her braid over her shoulder, picking at the ends.
“What?” I ask, knowing exactly what she means. I share a look with Caitlin. This is such a regular part of our lives that even Veronica questioning it is right on schedule.
“Ask people to do stuff for you?”
I shrug—Yeah, maybe? But also it’s a balancing act, and everyone is different.
“You have to ask, otherwise people treat you like you’re a baby. They help you with the stuff you don’t need—” Caitlin starts, but my coughs interrupt her. They double me over and run until I’m not sure there’s any oxygen left in my body. Face red and hot, I try to grab air between hacks.
“Whoa,” Veronica says, rubbing my back, ignoring what we were just talking about. Startled, I jerk away from her touch. Veronica is nice and all, but we are nowhere near that level of friendship. Brooke has barely earned the right to show concern for me in public, let alone intervene if I’m having issues. It’s one of those things that just serves to remind people that I am not like them.
Veronica backs off, one hand raised. “Sorry, I just…”
“Okay,” Caitlin says, inserting herself between the two of us, ready to fight Veronica.
“I didn’t—” Veronica curls in on herself, shoving her hands into her pockets.
“It’s fine,” I say, waving away her apology and the impending fight. My lungs calm and I come up for air. “It’s not that kind of cough,” I explain. Her actions are well-meant but ineffective. “There’s nothing in my lungs—never mind.”
Caitlin rolls her eyes and mutters something like “Newbie” but follows it up with a louder “Bless your heart.” I glare at her. This is not the time. Despite Veronica’s perky tendencies, I like her.
“It’s like you all have this secret language and I’m on the outside.” Veronica says this with the same wistful tone that someone might use when discussing Disneyland. Like she wants to come too. Like this is fun.
Caitlin looks at me as if asking for permission to read Veronica the riot act. And maybe I should let Caitlin do it, but I like Veronica. I want her to be my friend.
“Look, you’re cool, and so I don’t…” I take a deep breath. “You can’t say stuff like that to people. I mean anybody, and certainly not to anybody we’re here with.”
I lean on the bench, certain that she’ll walk away. Opening up to people is just going to once again prove that I will end up alone.
Caitlin sits primly next to me, as if waiting to see if Veronica will let her perky side out again.
“I don’t want to mess this up.” The way Veronica says this, I don’t think it has anything to do with what happened five seconds ago. “Luis asked me out.”
I look at Caitlin and her hazel eyes meet mine—things finally clicking into place. Both of us are stunned by this revelation. Sure, both of us date and we have a bit of rocky history with love, but the whole volunteer/patient thing is weird and should be prohibited in any and all volunteer handbooks. Still, breaking volunteer rules wouldn’t exactly be my first worry. More like—is Veronica ready for a hospital love affair? Can she handle a romance on cancer?
“Ummm…” is all I trust myself to say. Well, that explains the bus earlier.
Veronica has toned down the perky side of herself, but it’s still there, as evidenced by two seconds ago. But she’s willing to learn. She wants to do better, and that feels different—good different.
“I just, we’ve been texting a lot,” she explains, picking at the end of her braid. “I think he’s funny and has great taste in movies.”
“It also helps that he’s cute,” Caitlin adds.
Veronica blushes, her pale skin going red as a honeycrisp apple. “Yeah.” She falls silent, and we all watch logs go down the shoot. People throw their hands up and let out shouts of joy.
“Why did you want to volunteer here?” Caitlin asks, backtracking. I nod along, still too stunned to come up with a question. Caitlin is more than welcome to take this over.
“I wanted to help people. I read so many stories about kids in the hospital. Cancer, disabilities, I suppose … I wanted to be a part of it…” Her voice trails off and she looks at us. I want to hide the shock. Because wow. That’s an answer. Honest, at least. But wow. Caitlin is definitely taking this one. Although she may just skewer Veronica with a crochet hook. “I suppose that doesn’t sound good.”
“None of that ever gets said again. Like. Ever,” I say, finally finding my voice.
Veronica nods.
“And why ask us?” Caitlin continues. “My boyfriend dumped me and Ellie’s is pissed off she didn’t tell him she was having surgery.”
“Isn’t Ryan your medical coach? He talked you into surgery.”
“What are you talking about?” Why is Veronica bringing up Ryan in the middle of this conversation?
Caitlin’s eyes go round as saucers and realization hits me. Veronica thinks Ryan is my … Caitlin doesn’t hold in her laugh. It bubbles out of her and she leans back against the bench, dying.
“What?” Veronica looks confused.
“Do—do you think Ryan is my boyfriend? He is not my boyfriend.”
But it’s scary how easy it is to imagine us being together. Our late-night TV sessions are a bright spot at the Home. I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but I want to see him play soccer, be in the stands when he scores. Or distract him on the days his friends go to a game and he can’t.
There are so many places and experiences I want to enjoy with Ryan, but almost nothing when it comes to Jack. I just … want Jack back, but I’m not sure why.
Caitlin’s laughter finally dries up and she slings an arm around Veronica. “I have to know why you think Ellie and Ryan are dating. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard.”
“They’re always together. The way he looks at Ellie … I dunno—you fit.”
He looks at me a certain way? More than just his usual annoyance— I don’t think so. But I don’t hate the idea that he might.
Caitlin studies me as if trying to see what Veronica does, how my edges may blur into Ryan’s. “Stop it—how soon do you think they’ll be back?” The last thing I want is for Veronica to bring up this ridiculous theory in front of the whole group.
“I say we send them a list of rides to check out and then go find something fun,” I say.
Caitlin pulls out her phone. “Sending them a list of rides to check out for us.” She makes a big show of hitting send. “Done.”
“Bookstore?” I ask, wanting to put as much distance between Ryan and me as possible.
“Bookstore,” Caitlin confirms.
Caitlin has apparently decided not to kill Veronica and steps into her natural habitat of reading someone into our world. I can practically see her fingers twitch to reach for her phone and record something for @APatientLife. Slowly I can see the lines between my life here in the hospital and my life at home blending together. I learn Veronica is in speech too. This is her first year, so we might actually see each other at competitions. Assuming the surgery goes according to plan. For once instead of putting up more barriers, I lean in, wanting more. Craving it.
We linger over the long tables of new books, picking up titles and flipping over covers, looking for the best books to get us through a slew of appointments.
A little girl comes up to the table; her eyes barely make it over the first stack of books. Her father comes up and tries to lead the girl away. She looks up at me, her brown eyes large and inquisitive.
My stomach drops.
Oh no.
Those doe-like eyes flash from me to the book, to me again. I meet her father’s gaze. We both know what will come out of her mouth at any moment. He seems desperate to prevent it. Veronica looks to Caitlin and me, asking if there’s something she should do. Fast learner, that one. I shake my head. Nope, this just has to play out.
To make matters worse, the little girl starts moving her arm, twisting it and turning it, definitely trying to contort her body into the shapes that come to me naturally and abnormally to anyone else.
“Honey,” he says, “let’s go.” His eyes shoot me an apology.
Caitlin is ready to step in and I reach out a hand and catch her. One thing I’ve always admired about Caitlin is that she’s willing to make a scene to prove her point, but I’d still rather blend into the background.
“Dad, how do I get an arm like hers?” We stop. There is no playbook for this. No rules to follow. Except maybe apologize and run away. The girl’s father seems ready to pick the young girl up when she says, “It’s so cool.”
Satisfied that she was heard, the dad mumbles some apology and finally carts his kid off to the children’s section.
Caitlin and I stand there dumbfounded. “Did that…,” I say, not sure how I can put into words what just happened. It’s not what I’m used to. The one memory burned into my brain forever is the time I made a kid cry just by standing there. Nothing will make you think maybe your friends were right and you were a freak quite like having your existence being a cause for tears.
But that girl … I want to give her a medal or maybe congratulate her parents for not raising an asshole. For giving me hope that maybe there are people out there who can just see me without knowing me.
“Was that—okay?” Veronica asks.
“Someone called us cool,” Caitlin says. “Kids today. You might just be able to be an actor yet.” And just like that, Caitlin ruins my good mood. One kid does not an audience make. The girl manages to turn around once and smiles at us, still trying to manipulate her arm into a shape that resembles mine.
“You getting the book?” Caitlin asks when we both can speak again.
“Later. It’ll be good for my dad.”
Veronica, who is still struck by what just happened, asks, “You deal with that all the time?”
“Just watch the crowd when we go back out—how many people stare—” I start.
“And move out of the way,” Caitlin continues.
“Generally avoid us.”
“People are terrible,” Veronica says, disgust turning her face sour.
“Now she gets it,” Caitlin says, throwing an arm around her as we leave the bookstore.