CHRIS IS AWAKE WHEN I GET TO THE HOSPITAL ON SATURDAY night. Mom heads to the bathroom to shower as soon as I hand her a bundle of clean clothes.
“I have a problem,” I announce when the bathroom door clicks shut behind Mom and the water turns on.
Chris raises an eyebrow and struggles to sit up. “What is the problem?”
“Don’t move, you lout,” I say affectionately as I arrange the pillows behind his head and lift the bed. “Your bones are broken.”
“But never my spirit,” he rasps weakly. He grins and some of part of the worry nesting inside me settles.
It’s a line from the Red Knight’s script at the Castle. Something we’ve practiced a hundred times. If Chris can make jokes, maybe all this isn’t so bad after all.
“One problem of many is that I don’t know how I’ll do this without you. Who’s going to convince the other current Knights to help us?” I pull the giant, pleather-covered armchair over to the side of his bed.
“We’ll figure that out.” Chris gives me a crooked smile. “How has the Knight squad been managing without me? What phase of the plan are you at?”
“Phase three, I think?” I exhale sharply. Then, in a rush, I tell Chris everything about our training in the laundromat, meeting Eddy, and going on the news with Bettina.
“Viking Eddy!” says Chris, with another smile. “Did you know he once paid a server to bring him twenty turkey legs and he ate all of them during the course of one show?”
“He had twelve when I waited on him last.”
Chris shakes his head. “That guy. He’s a legend among the Knights. Even Dalton likes him. We have a board in the Knights’ locker room that has a collection of his greatest feats.”
“You have a board? What is it, like classic locker room stuff? Tell me you don’t do that patriarchal nastiness.”
“Nah,” says Chris, blushing. “It’s record holders like Eddy Jackson—most turkey legs eaten in one sitting. And then people to watch out for, like Viviane, this rich, middle-aged lady who would do creepy stuff like throw panties into the arena. She’s the record holder for kissing the most Knights. She’d sneak up on us during a photo.”
“Ewwww. That’s harassment and not okay for anyone to do. Ever.”
“Exactly,” says Chris. “She’s been banned from the Castle, but we get lots of people who do similar stuff.”
My blood steams to think about it. Chris sees the look on my face and nods.
“Yeah, I’m hoping that the changes you’re making will help with things like that too. But back to our board. It’s not all bad. Like I said, Eddy’s on there. And then there’s Owen, this little kid who came to every show for an entire month, as part of his Make-A-Wish program.” Chris’s voice trails off and I can’t bring myself to ask what happened to Owen.
“That’s a lot of ground to cover on one board.”
Chris yawns as he nods. “I’ll show you when you’re a Knight.”
“Hey, I brought you something.” I pull the still-intact-through-some-miracle LEGO Sears Tower from my bag.
Chris reaches out for it, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re so weird. What did you bring this for?”
“It’s a reminder of your dreams, stupid. Remember you want to be an architect?”
“Your eloquence is dazzling,” says Chris, smiling. “But thank you. I’d almost forgotten about this.”
“It’s here to remind you that you can do other stuff, you know, after the Castle. Even if you don’t get to ride again.”
“I know that,” says Chris softly. He sets the LEGO tower on the bedside table again. “So, it seems like things are going well with the Knights and you’re going on the news. But something else is wrong. I can tell. Spill. What’s the problem?”
The truth is on the tip of my tongue, but saying it out loud is hard. Even harder than I thought. What if Chris tells Penny? And she tells the others? What if they all just back out because the Castle said no? But this is Chris. He’ll keep my secret.
I exhale sharply. “Well, I’m lying to my friends and also I have no idea how to set up this tournament that’s not supposed to happen.” I give him the broad-strokes version of how the Castle rejected my idea. His eyes widen as he realizes just how deeply I’ve dug the hole for myself.
Before Chris can reply, a nurse bustles in to give him his pain meds, and Mom comes out of the bathroom, toweling off her hair.
“So, we have to take Chris home tonight,” says Mom, holding up her phone.
“Tonight?” My voice is too loud for the small room, and the nurse shoots me a look. “Why? He’s still barely put back together.”
A desperate look crosses Mom’s face. “I’ve been on the phone with the insurance company all day, and they’ve just sent me an email about costs and coverage. We can’t afford to linger. With our terrible insurance, a stay like this costs hundreds of dollars a day. And with the huge deductible, we’re just going deeper into debt the longer Chris stays here.”
She looks at the nurse, as if there were an answer there.
“I know, honey,” says the nurse, checking the machines that monitor Chris’s heartbeat and vitals. “It’s a broken system. Wish there was something I could do for you all.”
“Let Chris stay another night,” I say as the nurse leaves. “My website is making money. Not much, but enough to pay the deductible at least so far. We can use it to let him stay one more night.”
“Kit, no,” says Chris. “That’s your money for college. Go clean out my account. Or just let me go home. I’m fine. Really.” He tries to swing his legs around the bed, but collapses into Mom’s arms before he can fully stand up.
“Rest, you ridiculous man,” I say, smiling at them both. I’m so happy I can help out, I could do a cartwheel. Right there in the hospital room. “I’ll get the money. Mom, you make the arrangements. I’m sure I’ll get a scholarship; and, I’ll have plenty of time to make up the rest of the money from working this summer.”
“Are you okay going home alone? I’ll stay until the morning, but I have to get back to work tomorrow.” A frown of worry crosses Mom’s forehead. I can almost hear her counting up the number of shifts she’s missed and worrying about what her boss will say.
As I hug Chris goodbye, he whispers to me. “You have to tell the others, Kit. They’ll help you think of something, but they should know.”
I know he’s right, but that doesn’t mean telling them is going to be any easier.