With all the pre-rides done, we hit a riding frenzy after lunch and then my body decides it is done—at least for now. I wave my friends on to the next attraction, and even as Caitlin seems ready to hang back with me, Ryan beats her to it. She hesitates but ultimately leaves with the others. I don’t miss the look she and Veronica share. I want to yell after them that this is nothing, I just need to rest up before seeing Jack.
Ryan too seems to be fading fast. He closes his eyes more than once and draws in a deep breath, as if trying to silently talk himself into one more step. We grab coffee because both of us need to get through the rest of the day. I drink heavily while Ryan launches into his running list of BSG questions and I find out just how big of a nerd he is. No one at home gets my you had me at Helo jokes.
“What’s home like?” he finally asks, crossing the line into reality.
I draw my finger around the top of my cup. Home. How do I explain a place that he’ll never see. A place that feels like it should be as off-limits as asking about why I’m at the hospital. “The usual. A couple of walls, some flooring … my dad, a cat.” I give him the bare minimum, hoping to satisfy his curiosity so we can go back to where it was safer.
“You have a cat?”
“Hmm-hm,” I say. There’s so much that I want to tell him—about my cat, Tok’ra, and how he’s been my near constant companion these last few months.
Ryan raises an eyebrow, like he doesn’t believe that’s all I have to say.
So I get brave.
“Tok’ra’s great. Especially given these last few months. We’re practically fused together—you know, without the actual fusion.” My terrible joke pulls a smile from Ryan and I bite my lip, unsure why that makes me happy. Because this feels normal. As if we’re not even in the hospital, but just hanging out. As if I could keep him beyond my stay at Coffman.
“So after this,” I say, needing to put words to this thing that I feel—this not wanting to lose him.
“After the ride we’re definitely not going on?” Ryan says, trying to finish my sentence for me.
“No, like after my surgery.” I’m trying to force my mouth to learn the shape of this question. “After they figure out…” I motion to him. “We can still like talk … right?”
Maybe Caitlin is right, things can be taken out of the hospital, out of this place. They can start here. They can grow. I just have to give it space and care.
“Finally willing to mix your lives.”
“If you want to lose my number—”
“Sure.” He cuts me off. My mouth goes dry. Did that just … work? “Who else am I going to discuss BSG with?”
Hope and even excitement bloom in my chest. “I expect a full-on phone call when you get to the end. I can’t wait to hear your rant.”
“Hey.” Ryan holds up his hands over his ears. “Spoilers.”
I roll my eyes because who cares about spoilers, but I’m glad that I know he does. It’s like a part of him that lives alone outside of this bubble we exist in. It’s easy to be with him, to start sharing parts of my life he’ll never see. Who would have thought?
Ryan’s gaze drifts and I catch the wince of pain on his face. I don’t blame him for the fear of what I just said. That maybe there’s no end to this. We go through it all, and still the other side could shut us down.
A chill runs up my spine and I pull the end of my long-sleeved shirt over my fingers. Positive thoughts. Only good thoughts. This will work.
Caitlin was the one who always pushed, who reminded me that our friendship, our world, doesn’t have to stop at the hospital hallways. And that’s what this is between Ryan and me—friendship. I just have to be brave enough to take it outside of Coffman.
“What about you, soccer star? What’s home like for you?” I ask, feeling my way across this new and untested ice.
“We only have one wall.”
“Oh, modern art house? Lots of windows. Cool.” He bumps me and I hold still, making sure he can regain his balance, and then I return the favor. We laugh and stop by the carousel. This could be any time with Brooke and Jack. Old-fashioned Edison bulbs make the world glow around the ride. I’m surprised at how fun today has been and how much I wanted it. We sway to the music, waving at kids who fly by.
Ryan pulls out his phone, flipping it around in his hands like a talisman. I should check the time—see if I need to go find Brooke and Jack—but I don’t want to interrupt this conversation.
“You talked to your mom about her blog?”
I smile and stretch back, letting my arms stay on the railing, and pull my hips into better alignment. “Yup, I am a free teenager again.”
“But can I have the address—just to make sure you go through with the surgery. Maybe if you need a refresher course.”
“If you read that blog, I will consider you a Cylon.” My response is automatic, accompanied by a threat that I hope holds weight. I snap back up, knocked out of the normal conversation we’d been having and back into the world where our friendship sprouted.
Other patrons look at us, and a few pull their kids in another direction. Ryan seems to be noticing for the first time that we’re out in public and treated like just another piece of art, because he looks around at all the people staring at us.
I sigh. “I don’t like my friends reading it. I mean, how would you feel if your mom put everything about your life on the internet?”
“Honestly, I would probably yell at my friends in public too.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Why?”
“You’re the only person who’s ever said that to me. Most people just assume they have a right to my medical file.”
“Fuck those people.”
“Ryan, language. There are children present.” My tone is all false horror, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes, but he doesn’t. Instead, he goes quiet and studies the phone in his hands.
“You know when you asked me if I told my friends about what goes on here?”
“Not you too,” I say, going on the defensive. Didn’t we already cover this at lunch? My shoulders curl in and I can feel my walls go up. Ryan has been safe—and I hate how much I wanted him to be my safe place. Who just listened and I could argue with, but who also didn’t judge me.
“It’s hard,” he says, not looking at me, just staring straight ahead at the kids on the ride. Their laughter are tiny pearls of joy that just taunt Ryan and me. “I mean I tell them about you—about Luis and the Tumor Squad. But the appointments, the doctors—I get why you don’t. It’s so hard to explain, especially after you’ve gone and lived through it. They want me to get better. But you—you guys get me and I don’t want to lose sight of that. So when I try to talk to my friends at home about it, I just…”
I reach out and take his hand, because it’s something I’ve always wanted someone to do for me. To not judge or tell me I’m wrong. To just hear me and recognize me, not just with their words but with their touch.
Every inch of contact pings through me. We’re just friends, I tell myself, and I know exactly where he is. I know what he’s going through, and he’ll find a way to tell his friends in his own time.
“You’re worried this is it.” Not a question, a statement. A fear that haunts us all because we know that somewhere, in someone’s mind, we’re not normal. And we get reminded of that every time we step outside our door.
The little girl this morning aside, people are majorly assholes when it comes to me. When I meet his gaze again, I’m caught. Caught in some kind of force field. Like he’s the target that will destroy the Death Star and I’m Luke’s shot. We’re bound to come together.
The corners of his mouth quirk up and there’s a dare in his brown eyes. We could cross this line and it might be worth it.
“Hey, Ryan,” someone shouts, knocking us back into the friend zone. Guess I wasn’t Luke’s shot but Biggs’s. Destined to be close but nothing more.
Ryan pales and I’m suddenly nervous. Is this a new development, a new symptom? Where is Caitlin? She should be the one to properly note and categorize what’s going on here.
“Ryan,” I say, reaching out to touch his shoulder.
“They came,” he says flatly. I whip around, looking for who he could be talking about. “I can’t believe they came.”
“Do we need to go?” I ask, my instincts kicking in. Ryan may be my medical coach, but I’m his patient coach. Step one—only the best of friends are allowed in, and even then, we strike more people off the list.
He doesn’t take his cane, choosing instead to try to get along without it. His legs betray him and I run to catch up to him. He grips my arm like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. It probably is.
“Wanna read me in, Coach,” I say, hoping the nickname will draw him back.
“Ryan!” His name is called by several people, normal teens who hurry to get off the plastic horses of the carousel. Now I understand Ryan’s paleness, his refusal to use his cane. These are his people and they know only one sort of Ryan.
“They’re your friends?” I ask. “They’ve already spotted us.”
Ryan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s the sort of thing I can see him doing before he takes the field or scores a point. When he lets it out, his breath takes with it his concern, his will to run. I need him to teach me how to do that.
He pivots and I follow, afraid if I don’t, he’ll fall over. Two boys and a girl greet us, all with smiles that come from drinking a lot of milk. I’ve seen these types of kids before at school. They’re popular. They have that golden glow around them that singles them out. It doesn’t automatically make them assholes, just somehow apart from the rest of us. Like they could be the superheroes of the story—or at least what most people would think of as superheroes.
“Ryan, I thought that was you, been texting you since we got here.”
“Phone’s dead.”
No one believes that lie, and it throws everyone off. I was all for hightailing it out of here, but now we’re stuck.
The girl breaks away from the two boys and wraps her arms around Ryan’s neck. Her close contact means that I have to take a step back. I worry what will happen to Ryan when she pulls away, but he seems to have it under control.
Ryan raises one hand and gently pats her on the back. She releases him and I rush forward again before he wobbles.
“We’ve been so worried about you,” she says.
Suddenly all eyes focus directly on me. Because while I know a lot of people at high school, I for sure do not walk around with that golden halo of excellence.
“Will, Nate, Sarah.” Ryan says each of their names but doesn’t give them mine.
“Hi,” I say, my awkwardness framing the word like an unsure smile. “I’m Ellie, I know Ryan from Coffman.”
Recognition spreads across their faces.
“Nice to finally meet you,” Sarah says, her tone easy, and it surprises me until I remember that Ryan told his friends about me.
“Sometimes they let us out for good behavior,” I say.
Ryan barks out a laugh and I smile. His friends just stare at us like we’ve grown butterfly wings from our ears. And just like that, we have gone from bad to worse.
“We were just leaving,” Ryan says. I get the feeling that he too would like a lifeboat. His eyes find mine. “Ellie needs to go see her boyfriend perform.”
Right. Jack. The reason I came here in the first place. But if it gets Ryan out of this incredibly awkward friend meetup, I can help him out.
“We really should be going,” I add, looking at my phone. There are about five texts from Brooke asking if I’m here and where we can meet up. Definitely going to be late.
Sarah’s face falls. “Oh, I was…” She stops, and she and the boys exchange looks as if they need to decide if this is all worth it. I want to reach out to Ryan somehow, tell him that I am there, because this friend conference where it seems to be decided if you’re still “worth it” is the worst.
“We’ll come,” the boy on the right says, breaking away from what his friends seem to be doing. The girl just forces a smile.
Great.
I drift to the side of the group, letting the boys pile together, and even Sarah seems to get the feeling that this time is for them and moves closer to me. My body suddenly feels even more outlandish than usual. As if I’m a in glove and I just can’t fill all the space and flop around in the extra cloth.
“Always a third wheel,” she says as if reading my thoughts. She pushes her chin-length brown hair behind her ear.
“Huh?”
“I wanted to come see Ryan, but I forget how he can be with his teammates.” Her eyes drift toward their group.
“Not always, but sometimes,” I say, trying that thing again where I’m honest and let people in. Everything in me screams to pull those words back, to cram them back in my mouth and push her away.
We make it to the rotunda just as the choir director raises his hands. Jack’s in the middle, and all I can do is stare. There’s no way he’ll see me in the crowd that’s gathered, but just being there sharing space, doing something that feels normal—it’s great and somehow makes the heaviness in my limbs feel light, even if for a moment.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Sarah says quietly, “you’re seeing someone?” There’s concern in her voice, like she’s trying to get to the bottom of a really hard equation. I follow her gaze to Ryan, Will, and Nate, who have found an equilibrium between their two worlds. They pulled back, leaving the concert so that they could talk. I could see Ryan in school—he’d be just like this, sans cane, of course.
And that’s exactly what Sarah is asking about. That she can see Ryan as normal, but me—I’m the one who doesn’t fit in her idea of the world.
“I just … he talks about you a lot.…” She lets her voice trail off but caps her words with a pointed look at me—as if I’ve done something wrong, and it comes together for me.
I turn on her. “I had a boyfriend. We—he broke up with me.” I don’t know why I tell her that. I’ve been so focused on getting Jack back that I haven’t even admitted that we’re not together. “I wanted to see if today could fix it.”
Sarah winces. “I’m sorry. I just … They…” She nods to the boys. “They don’t seem to see how any of this will be different.”
Ahh, she’s thinking already to when he returns. “I mean, I don’t think he’s going to come back with a girlfriend,” I say, no matter what Veronica thinks.
“But things will be different. Ryan’s been keeping a running update with us—mostly just the people he’s met. Not so much the medical.”
I look back over at the boys; Ryan meets my eyes and smiles. What—how did I misread everything he told me? Or—the case I’m more likely to believe—he’s keeping it together for them, but being real with me. Perhaps I’m not the only one spilling my guts to a stranger.
We enjoy the last songs in silence, and I try to pay attention and focus on the reason I’m here. But after everything Sarah’s told me, how can I?
Brooke is blowing up my phone, wanting to know where I am. The choir finishes their songs and begins to march off the stage.
“Do you need to go see the not boyfriend?” Sarah asks.
I look between my phone and back at Ryan. I want to see Jack. I do, but I think Ryan needs me more than Jack. My not boyfriend doesn’t know I’m here today, and Brooke won’t betray my secret—at least I don’t think she will.
“Huh?” I ask, tearing my gaze away from Ryan and his friends.
Sarah studies me like she can’t decide if I’m the savior or the cause.
“Don’t hurt him,” Sarah says. I pull back, but she doesn’t say or offer anything more. Sarah goes and pulls Will and Nate away from Ryan. Ryan waves them off and just hangs there like he doesn’t want to come back to me, because for a moment he was in his normal world.
Why would I hurt him? Ryan’s doing just fine.
“We should actually get going,” Sarah says. “Calc test that is going to be murder on Monday. Nice to meet you, Ellie.” She gives me a wave.
“You wanna go find Jack?” Ryan asks, rejoining me. The choir is still trailing off the stage, a long line of black robes. I pull out my phone and open Brooke’s texts.
Ellie
Hey
got caught up—not sure I can meet up
Talk sometime this week?
I add the last one on without thinking and find that I mean it. Ryan can be nervous about his friends, but he still tells them stuff—maybe I can stand to take a few more pages from his coaching manual.
“No,” I say, locking my phone and stuffing it in my pocket.
“You sure?” Ryan sounds skeptical and he looks at me like I just decided to say Let’s go to the moon.
“I’ll talk to him later. We should probably go find the others before they send out a search party.”
“You’re going to talk to Jack … like a conversation?”
“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
“She finally gets it.”
I roll my eyes and drag him back toward the amusement park.