LEYLA AND THE TRUTH ABOUT THE SCAR

AS THE BUS SLOWLY MAKES ITS WAY THROUGH A DOWNPOUR, I think about what I was doing on Friday night a month ago. By this time, in the early evening, I was buried under my covers, trying to sleep. Trying to block out life. Completely alone.

Now I’m working side-by-side with the go-to girl. And Carlos Díaz. Are you kidding me? And Rupe? My long-lost buddy. And now I’m crossing town looking for Leyla Ibrahim. Who the heck is Leyla Ibrahim? And whatever she tells me about Luis, I gotta go tell Graves and Tre and Quintel and Mrs. Peña and Cassidy. A month ago, I thought I hated Cassidy and I was scared of Luis. And I didn’t really know the rest of them.

The bus stops in front of Highline Hospital. I hold my jacket up over my head to keep dry and make a run for it. The information booth is just inside the door. The old volunteer guy tells me Leyla works on third floor north. When I get up there, I ask the nurse for Leyla Ibrahim. She whips her chair back and shouts, “Leyla, you have a visitor!”

Leyla’s young-looking. She wears a maroon headscarf, which frames her round, warm face. She smiles a serious smile and says, “How may I help you?”

“I’m Sam, a friend of Luis Cárdenas from Puget High School. He’s been missing for a week, and Mr. Graves, this old guy—a friend of Luis and his mom—told me you might know what’s going on.”

“Yes, Sam, and please say hello to Mr. Graves for me when you see him. Come this way.”

I follow her to an orange couch in the waiting room. Some little kids are on the floor wrestling and watching cartoons on the TV set. I try to block out their giggles.

Leyla’s eyes look up into her head for a second. She’s searching for words. This feels serious in a way I know I’m not ready for.

“Sam, how long have you known Luis?”

“A couple months. But I’ve only known him well for a few weeks. We were working together on this project at school.”

“Luis and his mom are very close friends of mine. When Luis was younger, he was in the hospital for a long time. I saw his mother every day.”

“Why was Luis in the hospital?”

“Have you ever noticed that Luis has a scar on his neck? He had a cancerous tumor removed when he was eight years old.” She says all this stuff about how great Luis and his mom are. I only hear half of everything she says because I’m stuck back on the words cancerous tumor.

“Where is Luis? What’s going on?”

“Last Thursday, Leticia said she found him in bed, home early from school. He was clutching his head. He told her the pain had been coming and going for a few weeks. He didn’t want to go to the hospital and even made Leticia wait for him to finish some kind of project and promise him she’d drop it off at school in time. She brought him in for an MRI. They found that the cancer had returned and it had spread. They took him to Seattle, to Children’s Hospital. That’s where he is now.”

“Is it okay for people to see him?”

“I’m not sure if they’re accepting visitors. It’s very serious, Luis’s condition. You understand this, right?”

“I gotta go.”

I realize I’m still holding the zucchini bread.

“Here. This is from Mr. Graves.”

“Sam, you’re a good friend,” she calls as I bolt down the hall.