A Matter of Heart (28 page)

I
make a quick stop in the locker room. I rinse off in the shower, straightening the straps of my Horizon swimsuit. I left my backpack with the bike, so I have no extra clothes or a coat. It's not like I'm the only one here wandering around in a swimsuit. I finger-comb my hair as best I can and then pull it back into a pony.

When I get out, Mom's waiting with a plain blue towel, no idea where she got it, and a cherry slushie. I could cry. I swallow half the slushie in one gulp, then squeeze my eyes against the brain freeze. But oh so good! She holds the slushie while I wrap the towel around my waist and slide back into my flip-flops. Mom takes my dirty sweats and drops them in the trash. “We'll get new ones,” she says.

I smile, my heart back in my throat. “I've been such a crap daughter.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Fortunately, you're going to be around for a long time, so you can make it up to me.”

I grin and take the slushie. “Deal.” By the time I finish the drink, my lips are bright red—slushie lipstick. It's an improvement. The rest of my face is too pale and my shoulders and arms are spotted with various scrapes and there's a nasty bruised lump growing on my shin. Maybe I'll get a sympathy pass from Alec. I need it. The last time we talked I threatened to ruin his life.

He's standing near the bleachers. He's talking to a man with the same thick hair, though it's gray at the temples, and the same easy smile. It must be his dad, and it's great to see them so happy. Then Alec looks over and stiffens. “Abby!”

I smile weakly. “Can we talk?”

A
lec freezes, the muscles of his stomach tightening as if he's just absorbed a punch. “I don't think—”

“Please?” I'm clutching my fingers so hard, a knuckle cracks.

Alec exchanges a look with his dad, then shrugs.

It's not much, but I'll take it. I nod to his dad and then lead the way behind the bleachers. There's a grassy area that's been left deserted. I can smell why. A few feet away is an outdoor shower with a rusty showerhead and the damp smell of mold. But at least we're semi-alone.

As I turn to face him, my tired heart is jumping again. Nerves. I expected him to be mad, but his expression is more wary. Distant. I feel as if I'm back in the doctor's office, about to get bad news.

“Congrats,” I say, extra brightness in my voice to cover. “I saw the hundred. You were amazing.”

“Second to Connor.”

I wave that off. “You posted a great time. You did it, Alec. What Stanford wanted.”

He nods, but I've already learned that he's not one to break an arm patting himself on the back. “What about you?”

“I didn't swim.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Was he watching for me? Waiting?
That makes me feel better.

“What happened?” he asks. “Coach said you weren't coming today.”

“My mom figured out that I'd stopped taking the pills,” I say. “She left me at home to come get my dad and I decided to ride my bike over. About a mile from here, I blacked out.”

He turns away, one hand gripping the back of his neck. “Jesus.”

“I'm sorry, Alec.” I reach out, but I'm afraid to touch him in case he pulls away.

“Why are you telling me you're sorry?” He's facing me again, but he seems farther away.

“Because you were right. Because you tried to tell me. Because I nearly died and the last things I said to you were awful. Worse than awful.”

He shakes his head. Steps back. “That doesn't matter. It's done.”

“It's not done.” I try to close the space but he holds up a hand to stop me.

“Alec, I'm trying to apologize. I…Everything is different now. The way I'm thinking. The things I'm feeling—”

He cuts me off. “How do you even know what you're feeling, Abby? You nearly died.”

“It's more than that,” I say, but he's shaking his head. My
fingers twist around the towel, fear a sharp sting in my throat. “Alec, listen to me. When I woke up in that gravel, I thought of everything that I'd nearly lost. Everything that mattered. And I never once thought about a medal or the shelf or even a swimming pool. I thought of my parents and Jen. I thought about you.”

His voice is sharp, angry. “Don't.”

“I was afraid.” There are new tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. “I didn't want to be the girl who used to be someone. You know?” I look up at him. “I didn't want to be
that girl
.”

His breath is like a sigh of wind. I remember how he called for me on the mountain, how his voice brought me back to myself. That feels like a lifetime ago. In a way, I guess it was.

Now he looks sad. “I wouldn't have let you swim,” he says. “Even if it cost me my scholarship. I would have given it all up for
that girl
.”

I'm sinking as if the grass beneath me is quicksand. How do I stay on my feet without Alec to help hold me up?

“And what about now?” My voice shakes. “What about the girl standing in front of you now?”

There's something almost painful about the look in his eyes. “This week was hell, Abby. I can't go through that again.”

“I know,” I say softly. “But you wouldn't have to. See, this new girl, she's a lot smarter about things.” Tears spill over and I wipe them away with the back of my hand. “Especially about hearts.”

He shakes his head.

“You could get to know her,” I say. “See what she's like.”

“Abby—”

“Maybe meet for a smoothie? I mean, you both like smoothies, so you already have that in common.”

I think I see the hint of a smile.

“Just to talk a little,” I press.

“I do like smoothies,” he finally says.

Hope goes straight to the pit of my stomach and explodes like a firecracker. “Okay, so that's good. I mean, that's great.” I smile. “You just say when, because she's got a lot of time available.”

“She does, huh?” He tilts his head in question.

“See, she's kind of banged up right now,” I explain. “But it's nothing permanent. And, uh, starting tomorrow she'll be back on beta-blockers.”

“I've always had a thing for girls on beta-blockers.” He smiles—definitely a smile—and it's like that moment at the end of a race when I stretch out my hand and the wall is there. I feel like anything is possible.

“What else can you tell me about her?” he asks.

“She doesn't swim. Not fast, anyway, but she is undefeated in Capture the Shark.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Well, she's a competitor. Stubborn, too. Apparently a near-death experience hasn't changed that.”

“Not a deal-breaker,” he says.

“Her grades aren't so great, but she's going to work on those. And she's an excellent kisser.”

“Really?” His eyebrows rise. “You sound pretty sure of that.”

“You want proof…?” I let my words trail off, which is good because my breath evaporates at the sudden heated look in his eyes.

He closes the distance and I slide my hands over his warm shoulders. He smells like chlorine and sun, and it's like I'm floating and grounded all at the same time. He brushes his lips over mine, softly. He's not sure, I can feel that, but it's okay. Because I am.

I tilt my face and kiss him like there
is
a tomorrow.

When I finally pull back, we're both breathing hard. “Holy hell,” he murmurs. He rests his forehead against mine. “I think I might like this girl.”

“I hope so,” I say. My heart thrums but in a very good way. “Because she really likes you.”

Off to our right, a buzzer sounds. A second later, I hear someone call Alec's name. We separate as his father appears around the corner.

“Alec,” he says. “Time to warm up. Relay is next.”

Alec nods, studies me a second. “You'll be okay?”

“Just swim fast,” I say.

He leans close enough to brush his lips against my earlobe. “Watch me.”

And I do.

Alec sets a state record and the Horizon team wins first. His future at Stanford is looking good. Jen takes third, but she has a new PR and she's pumped for next year. Coach is taking home a new load of trophies for his case. I didn't win any for him, but when he sees me, he gives me a hug like never before. “I could use you on my coaching staff for next year,” he tells me. “You'll work for free and I can be an asshole, but I'll get you a whistle.”

“And a shirt that says ‘Coach'?”

“Don't push it,” he growls. And we both smile.

All around it's a great day.

It's also a really hard day.

So many things are ending. I don't know what's coming next, but I remind myself of the one thing I've got.

A new beginning.

The character in this story, Abby Lipman, is completely fictional. Unfortunately, the disease she suffers from is all too real. I first learned about hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HCM) in 2010. I was beginning to research a new story about a girl with a heart condition when I got an email from my kids' high school about a free heart screening for students. As I read, I learned two startling things:

At the time, both of my kids were playing varsity sports. As you can imagine, this quickly became more than an opportunity for research: it became something vital I had to do for my kids.

When we arrived for the tests, I met Sharon Bates. Sharon's son, Anthony, was just twenty years old when he died of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. He had never shown any symptoms of
an illness. HCM is a disease that can strike down young, healthy kids with full lives ahead of them. Exactly like my own kids. And though HCM can be deadly, it can also be detected with a simple, painless test called an electrocardiogram (EKG).

On that day in 2010, both of my kids were tested, and thankfully, the results showed two healthy hearts. But I wondered what it would be like if we hadn't been so lucky. What would a diagnosis of HCM be like for a teenager who lived to compete? The story of Abby came to life that day.

This book is dedicated to the memories of all those who have lost their lives to HCM and to the hope that as awareness grows, more teens will be tested and more lives will be saved. The great news is that once HCM is detected and treated, a person can live a completely normal life.

For more information about HCM, visit the Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy Association at
4HCM.org
. To find out about screenings in your area, and ways you can help, contact the Anthony Bates Foundation at
AnthonyBates.org
or Parent Heart Watch at
parentheartwatch.org
.

A portion of the proceeds from this book will be donated to the Anthony Bates Foundation.