All In My Head (First Tracks Book 1) (21 page)

On cue, I stood up. “I can’t thank you enough.”

She led the way, walking like she’d gone through this maze
in this order over and over.

To me, the walk through the hospital felt like a
pilgrimage.
I needed to get there and discover, but I didn’t
want to cross that threshold.

Scared of what we’ll find? Me too.

I’m scared of that and everything it means. One, two,
three, four—

Babe?

Trying not to think.

I didn’t want to worry that he’d look different … I blocked
the thought, hoping Marcus wouldn’t pick up on it. Jen might have sensed my
mood. She glanced at me with a reassuring smile.

“Here we are,” she said. The door opened into the dark room.
Not pitch black, but a dim kind of dark. Stuffy. Closed in. A Death room.

Jen went inside and I heard her talking to Marcus. Him and I
had the same reaction: Over here!

She came back to me and said, “I’ll be just outside the
door, okay?”

I nodded and went in, letting my eyes adjust. The blinds
were closed tightly so the only light coming in was stealing in around the
edges, and it didn’t illuminate things correctly. Shades of industrial tan
filled the room, distorted. My eyes went to the machines around the bed, a
chart on the wall, and all the things that screamed patient, not person. Shell,
not Marcus. 

But I wanted so badly to see him, to really see him.

I was avoiding the bed, not allowing myself or Marcus to
look. I couldn’t handle it yet. But he needed to see himself so I walked to the
end of the bed, gaze resting at the wall at eye level, until I thought I was
ready.

Open the blinds first.

Without looking at the person in the bed, I went to the
window and pulled the string far enough that a block of light came in through
the bottom. Bright yellow light flooded the room. As I turned back around, I
saw his body twitch under the covers.

Did you see that?

I saw the movement but didn’t look at his face yet. Instead
I looked around the room again, remembering how I was lying in a hospital bed
when I first heard Marcus speak. Funny how normally this would be a place of
healing. A place where people have babies. But here, now, this felt like a
threat. The room felt too small for someone like Marcus.

Babe, I’ve been living in your head all this time.

This was different … I felt cut off from him, or more cut
off from his life.

I’m here. It’s okay.

“Is it? Look at you, lying there. I could touch you but
you’re there
and
here.”

LOOK AT ME.

Finally, I traced the line of the corner down and then the
edge of the bed over, and then I looked at Marcus: Marcus in physical form but
not the person talking in my head. His hair was shaved where it showed outside
of a covering. His face … odd shades of orange and yellow bruising still marred
his cheekbones and eyes, and up onto his forehead where stitches stretched from
one temple up into his hairline. A tube went into his mouth. One arm was in a
cast.

I pulled in my breath and felt Marcus react almost the same.
We stared at him in silence for a long minute, re-orientating.   

Cheer up. We found my body. We can fix this, as you like to
say. Avery, my fixer girl. My tiger-lily.

I laughed and felt the tension ease for a second, then
glanced at the door and wondered if Jen was listening. Of course she was. She
didn’t know me from Jane Doe out on the street, and she let me in here with her
brother. But was she watching?

I felt weak as I pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat
down. Sitting felt like giving up. Somehow I’d expected him to wake up when I
came in. You know, because his spirit was with me, so I thought I’d be bringing
them together and fixing things.

I didn’t understand how I felt so alone, sitting here next
to him, with his voice right here talking to me. His good hand lay on top of
the blanket and I wanted to take it, but all I could manage was to slide my
hand over close enough to feel the heat emitting from him.

You’re afraid to touch me?

“Because it’s not really you. I can’t explain it.”

Try it.

Of course! I slid my hand over and took his, holding my
breath. We were touching. Finally. My eyes stung and I closed them, stopping
the tears. Or trying to. I held his hand tighter.

“Marcus?” I waited a few more breaths before looking at him.
He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t squeeze my hand back. 

Kiss me.

“What?” I chanced another look toward the door. It appeared
to be mostly shut, and I really didn’t think she could peek through the cracks
and see me.

Hey, I’m not a chick but I know about Snow White.

“Do you mean Sleeping Beauty?” I spoke out loud, but in a
whisper. It felt so strange to direct my voice to a person when talking to him.
Honestly, I didn’t know the difference between Snow White and Sleeping Beauty …
it seemed like both fell asleep and needed a kiss from their Prince Charming.

Well, forget Disney. Just kiss me. It’s worth a try, right?

“When you’re so romantic about it.” I whispered this even
more quietly. Then, I leaned over, looking at his pale face, knowing it should
be tan. The tube going into his mouth made me even more nervous about the whole
thing. But I very lightly—and quickly—touched my lips to his.

I sat back and waited. He breathed out. Breathed in. Or, the
machine might have been breathing for him. Why didn’t it work?

I broke out in a sweat and checked the door. Still mostly
shut. I tried to take a breath but my lungs hiccupped, my body wanting to cry.

“Marcus, I’m sorry,” I said, choking on the words.

Not your fault, sweetie.

A note of desperation came through in his voice, something I
hadn’t heard from him before, and it tore at me. What would we do now? We had
broke through the ribbon at the finish line only to find it was the start of
another race.

Gently, I leaned over and kissed his hand, then pressed my
cheek into his palm. Okay, this had to be the moment he’d wake up, like in the
movies.

But he didn’t.

It’ll happen. I’ll wake up sometime. Maybe it just doesn’t work
like that. Okay?

I shook my head against his hand.

Babe? It’ll be okay. Nothing can stop Marcus Fields.

“I need you.”

Jen came in quietly, but I felt her and wiped at my face.
When I turned to her, she was looking critically at the window. “You opened the
curtains.”

“He can’t take the darkness like that.” I wasn’t sure if
it’d been Marcus speaking, but it’d felt like me. Me being that bold. “He’d be
dying to get outside. Shred some gnar.”

She laughed, visibly breaking out of her shell. She
uncrossed her arms and sat down. “I know, he’d hate this more than anything. In
a way, I’m almost thankful he’s asleep. Just imagine if he were awake and stuck
in bed.”

I sucked in my breath, glancing at him. I didn’t ask the
question, but she started telling me about his injuries.

She needs someone to listen. She needs to talk.

I let go of Marcus’s hand and scooted my chair next to hers.
We had talked for at least half an hour when an older woman leaned her head in
the door. Jen faced me so she didn’t see and kept talking. The woman looked
like Marcus in the eyes. She looked between her daughter’s back and me before
giving a weak smile and leaving.

Jen stopped abruptly and then asked, “What if I let him
down?”

“How? You didn’t, Jen. It looks like you’re stopping your
life to be here with him.”

She shook her head, looking away to wipe her nose on a
tissue.

 “Marcus wouldn’t want to live like this,” Jen said. “He’d
rather be dead. My parents are talking about removing support.”

“Support?” As in … she couldn’t mean that.

She glanced at his face but dropped her gaze quickly. “Life
support.”

No!

Jen startled. I’d yelled it with Marcus.

“You can’t do that,” I said. “He wants to live.”

“We can’t know that, Avery. There’s no telling how long he’ll
linger in this condition before going further downhill. We almost lost him
Tuesday. He’s not responding in any way. Marcus isn’t here—”

“YES, he is.”

“His living will … it said he wouldn’t want to live like
this.”

“But …”

“My parents are pretty sure about it. They’re hoping … I
mean, we all are. We’re holding on a few more days, but they don’t want to put
him through this.” 

I heard myself breathing hard. A weird cold heat spread
through me.

You have to stop them, Ave.

I can fix this somehow. I can. I can find a way.

I wasn’t giving up. This was too important. How could they
not see that? It was his life. You can’t just decide that for another person.

Avery!

“What?” I turned and paced back the other way in a small,
dark hallway. I’d found my way here and started pacing in a five-foot space.

They’re not deciding for me. I wrote a living will about three
years ago …

“Why would you do that?”

So I wouldn’t end up like a vegetable. How could I ever have
predicted I’d end up in your head?

How could anyone have ever predicted this? And what was I
going to do about it? How was I going to sneak him out of the hospital alive?
I’d kill him if I tried, if that machine was all that was keeping him here. I
turned, took two steps, turned again. I paced faster and faster. Marcus was
quiet. Resigned.

“No, no! You are not giving up on me.”

On you? Avery, you had a full, good life before I crashed it.
You can have a happy life without me.

“But I don’t want to.” I slapped the wall before turning. “That’s
not fair to you. I am not giving up on us. But more importantly, on YOU. I want
you to have a full life.”

I have. I’ve traveled to over twenty countries, learned French,
won a gold medal in the Olympics. I’ve been doing what I loved for most of my life,
Ave. And I fell in love. With you—you, who I woulda never met in my normal
life. I fell in love in a way I never imagined was possible.

I slid to a stop and rested my forehead against the cold,
metal door. I’d found my way to a stairwell or something. I didn’t know where I
was … in so many ways. But I had to keep moving. I made it through foster care
for four years because I just kept moving. I didn’t stop and throw any pity
parties.

Pushing off the door, I opened it and headed back into the
main part of the hospital and made my way to Marcus’s room.

Ave, you might have to let me go.

Not without a fight.

But why was he giving up like this?

I heard voices as I reached his door. They stopped when I
knocked. Jen came to the door, pulling it open slowly, looking for me. I took a
deep breath.

“Can I talk to your parents?” I asked, loud enough for them
to hear too. Jen glanced back, and they must have motioned me in because she
stepped back and waved her hand back toward the room.

Marcus wanted to run to them. I took that first step,
wanting to embrace them, but held myself back. They wouldn’t understand.

I nodded to each of them. “Tom … Elaina … I’m Avery. It’s
nice to finally meet you.” I added that part to play along with the story we’d
given them. Elaina smiled, softly, a bit forced. Tom frowned, his eyes glaring
through his thick glasses.

He’s just like that. It’s his thinking face.

“You’ve known Marcus for a few years?” Elaina asked.

“Yes. We’ve been pretty close. Jen told me … she said you
don’t think Marcus would want to live like this.” Before, it’d been hard to
look at Marcus lying so still in the bed. Now it was hard to keep my eyes off
him, and I saw him as his parents did. Helpless. Lifeless. Not like their
Marcus at all. They didn’t think he was in there anymore. Well, he wasn’t. But
he was alive. I thought about what I could say to win them over, but I didn’t
think I had time for any of that. “You can’t just let him die. He wants to
live. He has so much more ahead of him.” I listened to myself, kind of an
out-of-body experience, and I had to ignore the feeling that I was lying. I
wasn’t—we didn’t know. And they didn’t know he was right here, wanting to talk
to them, wanting to live, wanting to have some kind of future.

His mom and dad looked at each other. It wasn’t just a
passing glance, but a slow look, filled with love and knowledge and messages I
couldn’t read. They knew each other inside and out, and they knew Marcus, as
well as any parent can know their child. They’d been there every step of the
way, supporting his dream. They were doing what they thought was best for him,
what they thought he wanted. It
was
what he wanted—before. Not now.

I discovered something in that second, why Marcus came to
me. Why he landed in my brain. He needed me to save him. None of this made
sense unless he woke up and had a future. This was fate.

“Miss,” Tom said on a sigh, looking at my feet. “I don’t
think you’ve considered what Marcus would want. He told us what he would want
in this situation. Did you know that? You’re only thinking about you and how
you feel.”

“Tom.” Elaina said it under her breath.

Jen crossed one arm over herself and wiped her cheek with
her other hand. I wondered if she agreed with them. 

“Marcus would want to live!”

“The old Marcus,” Jen said softly.

I wanted to tell them. Had to. I just didn’t know how to
convince them. Just as I opened my mouth, my feet moved. Marcus was in control.
I turned toward the door and rushed out with Jen on my heels.

“Avery!”

I ran down the hall to the windows and stopped, leaning
against the frame and looking out.

“Avery, I’m sorry. They’ve been thinking about this for a
few weeks now, especially when he started to slip away. They were holding on,
hoping, waiting … you don’t know what that’s like.”

I didn’t turn and look at her. I couldn’t—I wasn’t sure if I
could talk or if Marcus’s emotions were too strong for me. I started speaking,
unsure of what I would say.

“Remember that little robin that fell out of the nest, and
how you took care of it?”

She came up beside me. “How do you know about that?”

“It had a broken wing and we couldn’t get it back up there
anyway. You nursed that bird and kept it alive. Mom said it was a miracle it
didn’t die. I should have told you this a long time ago, but it wasn’t some
random miracle. It was you. Your belief. Your love. You gave that bird a life.”

Jen was close enough for me to see her face crumple. She
stared at me, on the verge of control, gasping for breath. “How? How the hell
do you know that?”

I struggled against Marcus. He tried to reach for Jen but I
held my body still.

That’s why I got us out of that room. I knew my parents
wouldn’t accept it, and you were about to tell them everything.

Then why did he reveal himself to Jen? I hugged myself,
trying not to cry too.

“Avery, are you saying we don’t believe in Marcus? Because
we do. That’s all we’ve ever done. We were there for everything, and helped him
at every step and new challenge. You have no right to say that.”

I wiped at my eyes, grinding my teeth. After looking away to
get a grip on myself, I said in a hoarse voice, “I’m not saying that. It came
out wrong. All of you did believe in me—Marcus. That’s what got him to the
top.”

She was looking down the hallway, and I glanced to see Tom
waiting for her. I nodded his way and started walking away from them both. I
shoved my hands in my pants pockets, kept my head down, and plowed my way down
the halls, away from it all.

“Marcus, what if they’re right? And I’m being selfish?” I
asked under my breath, but I had to talk to him. For real. Out loud. I didn’t
care what anyone else thought.

You couldn’t be selfish, babe. It’s not in your DNA.

“What if I want you around for me, living in my head? Is
that fair to you?”

He laughed, sadly.

Is it fair to you—having some guy sharing your life? That’s the
big question.

“I don’t care about fair. I want you, any way I can have
you. It was hell living without you in my head. I just want you in my life. I
am completely selfish.”

Then I am too, because I want to stay with you, in your head. 

The weight of it hit me then, what we were discussing.

“Really? If you can only live in my head for the rest of my
life, do the things I do, eat the food I eat, live
my
life.”

I want to live, Avery. Of course I do. I want to live with you
… I don’t want to take over your life or ruin it. That’s not me.

I came around a corner and spotted a nurse’s station. A
doctor wrote something and slid his pen into his pocket before turning my way.
I slowed, waiting, and turned to walk beside him.

“Excuse me, doctor?”

He gave me a friendly enough smile, more of a business-like
courtesy as he went to his next patient. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a quick question? A general one? If someone’s
in a coma, and his family pulls life support, what happens?”

He stopped and looked me up and down. “Are you asking about
Marcus Fields?”

I couldn’t tell if he had heard about me. Either way, I was
some nut case to him. “Yes.”

“Well, the expected outcome is … that he’ll cease breathing
once oxygen is removed. I’m sorry.” He didn’t turn away for a second, giving me
hope.

“And his family can just decide that?”

A look of pity came and went from his eyes. He rested a hand
on my shoulder. “Yes, it’s their legal right. He made his wishes known for such
an event like this. I know it’s hard, and you obviously care about him, but we
have to respect the patient’s wishes.” He gave me a pat and walked away.

Everyone else thought I was going against Marcus’s wishes,
that I was the bad guy.

“Miss?”

I looked up to find the doctor several feet away, still
watching me. “I told you the expected outcome. I shouldn’t tell you this … but
sometimes the patient continues to breathe. It doesn’t mean he’ll come around
or improve if that happens. It usually prolongs the, well, outcome. I thought I
should tell you that, just in case. Just so you don’t get your hopes up. But …
anything is possible, I suppose. He’s a young man. I’d like to think he has a
chance too.”

“Thank you.” I stood still and watched him leave … and I
might have stood there for a long time after that; I wasn’t sure.

Ave? Can you get me out of this building for a while?

How?

Did he think I could cart his sleeping body out of here?

No, us. You. Me. Let’s go up to the roof.

Oh. I shook my head at myself, wanting to laugh but unable
to, and headed to an elevator. It took some doing to find a way to the roof.
When I finally walked outside, I was surprised to find it was midday. The
clouds were just a thin, pearlescent sheen that reminded me of the inside of
seashells. They stretched across the entire sky, rippling here, fizzing there,
making pretty patterns. A breeze played with my hair, sending it behind me and
then around my face. I looked at the city around us, and the hills and
mountains, and white sky, then I closed my eyes and felt the air move on my
skin.

I wished it was Marcus caressing me.

I’m here. But …

“But what?”

This is all we get, I guess.

I sank and lay down on the concrete to stare up at the sky,
wanting to argue with him but knowing better. What were my options? I could
spill everything to his parents, but he already knew that would make things
worse. I could try to convince Jen. No. It would hurt them more, and I knew
why.

I’d tell them the truth but then they still wouldn’t be able
to talk to Marcus or hear him like me. They wouldn’t really believe. They would
just hope without proof. And he’d still be in a coma. I’d prolong the
inevitable, like that doctor said. I’d cause them much more pain and they’d
still lose him over a longer, worse process. I was being selfish. I wanted
Marcus.

I’m selfish too then. I want you, Avery.

***

I lay on the roof for hours, watching the day change,
talking to Marcus, until my phone buzzed.

“Hi, Jen.”

“Avery, are you still at the hospital?”

“The roof.”

“Oh … can I talk to you?”

“Yeah.”

“In person. I’ll come up.”

“You know the way?”

“Yeah. I’ve been here a while.”

I didn’t move until she found me, and then she sat down as I
sat up. We were quiet as the breeze tickled over us.

“Your friend Jazz called the hospital, Avery.”

Her words took a second to sink it. Then they hit hard.
Anger flared, but died quickly. It didn’t matter anymore. Jazz had come through
and did the right thing.

“She told you everything?” I asked.

“What I heard, from my mom, is that you’ve been hearing
voices since hitting your head about a month ago.”

“Did she tell you about all the drawings Marcus did? She’s
seen my attempts at art before, and she’s an art major. She knows I couldn’t
fake what he did. And what about the way I could suddenly play the guitar? And
snowboard?”

She watched me with those permanent tears beading on her
lower eyelids.

“I really do know him, Jen. I might only know him in my
head, but I didn’t make him up. I can tell you all about him. About your
cardboard doll house that he helped you build and paint. About the little green
toboggan that you rode down the hill and crashed, and knocked out your loose
tooth.” I looked at her, and in one look knew she believed me. 

“I’m so sorry, Avery, but my parents aren’t changing their
minds. Especially now. They think you made all of this up.” She looked down,
shaking her head. “Even if they could believe you, and I don’t think they ever
can, it might not change a thing. He’s trapped in there.”

Not trapped.

Marcus …

I reached for Jen’s hand, unable to stop a torrent of love
and loss spiking through me. A bittersweet discovery obtained through pain.

“They’re going to … it’s been in motion for a few days.
Well, a couple of weeks now. But the final legal stuff …” She choked up.

“What are you saying?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“No, no, no!” Why did it break me in two when I’d known she
would say that?

Why hadn’t Marcus said anything?