Notable (Smith High) (19 page)

“No one could have anticipated
this,
Suzanne.”

“It’s
Cambodia,
for god’s sake, Paul! The country must be
full
of criminals!”

Funny that the crime rate in Cambodia was only occurring to her now. Not, you know,
before
she had lectured me about what a great opportunity it was for me, and how I should be eternally grateful they were letting me go. I also wanted to point out that there were plenty of honest, hardworking Cambodians like Mr. Horny too.

Just because I’d had the misfortunate of tangling with a drug lord didn’t mean she had to blame the entire
country
.

“Let’s focus on who she’s going to stay with when the hospital releases her, Suzanne. I think she should stay with me.”

My mom made a scandalized sound. “
You?
So you can just coddle her forever. I’m not letting that happen to her.”

“Suzanne!”

“Paul!”

My parents stared at me in surprise, probably because they’d been so absorbed by their arguing that they had forgotten that their own daughter was recovering in a hospital bed right in front of them. Of course, my presence had never prevented them from snipping at each other before. I guess it was too much to hope that my near miss with death could have brought the two of them to a cease-fire.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, princess.” My dad brushed a strand of red hair off my forehead, and the protectiveness of the gesture almost made me close my eyes and let them stay shut. Part of me wanted to sleep forever if that would keep the throbbing pain in my chest at bay. But I knew that if I didn’t deal with my parents now, they would continue squabbling over me.

No amount of Advil would be able to ease my parent-related migraine then.

“Thanks, Dad. But if you two are going to argue, do it far away from me.”

Neither of them looked comfortable hearing their only child point out one of their shortcomings, so they both pretended I hadn’t spoken.

“Chelsea, you scared me!” my mom said accusingly, as if that had been my plan all along. “I never should have let your father talk me into sending you abroad. You’ll come back home with me, of course. We’ll get you registered back at Smith High School right away. And maybe then we’ll look into getting you an SAT prep tutor or something. How does that sound, sweetie?”

“I want to stay with dad in Portland.”

“What?”
she squawked, turning swiftly on my dad. “What did you say to her, Paul? I
knew
you would make me out to be the bad guy in the divorce!”

“I didn’t do—”

“Stop!”
I cleared my throat, but neither of them thought to offer me any water. “I’m going to try living with Dad, and if that doesn’t work, then I will come up with a different solution. Which might include filing to become an emancipated minor.”

That shut them up . . . for all of a second.

“You’re not ready to live on your own, princess,” my dad informed me, while my mom launched into a rant about rebellious teenage years and how she hoped someday I had a daughter
just like me
because
that
would show me.

I closed my eyes and let them vent for a few minutes before I held up the remote attached to my hospital bed.

“My turn to talk. If either of you interrupts, I’m paging for a nurse to escort you out.”

They definitely didn’t like the sound of that, but I wasn’t about to back down now. I hadn’t defied a drug dealer only to allow my own parents to tear me down. My mom stiffly crossed her arms as I fought to find words for the jumble in my head.

“You wanted me to leave. You wanted Cambodia to be my wake-up call. And you know what? It worked.”

“By associating with a drug dealer?
That
was your wake-up call?” my dad asked dubiously.

“Absolutely. I handled a deadly situation. Not every decision I made was a good one, but do you want to know what I learned? I
really
don’t need you. Either of you.”

“Right,” my mom scoffed. “Those not-so-good decisions landed you in the hospital. Honey, you need to be reasonable right now.”

“I got everyone out alive.”

“I saw your father’s colleague. I wouldn’t be bragging about that quite yet. The man looks half-dead to me, and your other classmate isn’t much better.”

My stomach clenched painfully and my cracked rib began screaming at me in protest. I nearly pressed the button for a nurse just so I could see if I could get anything to help with the pain.

“I know that Neal and Amy had a really . . . rough time.”

Understatement of the freaking century.

“And maybe I’m partly to blame for it. But did it occur to either of you that four of the smartest people I know—whose SAT scores probably doubled, maybe even tripled, mine—were all in that situation with me? That we made mistakes together and did our best to deal with them?”

My mom shook her head. “Chelsea, I know this has been awful for you, but you can’t use it as an excuse for your shortcomings. You can’t go through life thinking,
Why bother studying if it won’t save me from a drug dealer?
”

I clenched my teeth, which only worsened the migraine that was gaining force. “I’m not making excuses. I’m just trying to point out that test scores aren’t everything. They don’t measure the important things. And my low SAT score doesn’t make me
stupid
. I don’t ever want to hear you imply that it does again.”

“Chelsea—” my dad started, but I cut him off.

“You’re not much better, Dad. Because you heard her say it, and you still chose to hide in your office like a coward. Every. Single. Time. So there will be no Father of the Year nominations for you. You both wanted me to leave and find myself. Well, I did. I’m not going to let either of you treat me like that again.”

“So this is how things are going to be from now on?” my mom demanded dramatically. “The two of you teaming up against me?”

“I love you, Mom.” The words tore more painfully from my throat than any of the others. Somehow saying those four words made my entire conversation with Logan look like child’s play. They eviscerated my heart because I knew it was the truth even as every fiber of my being wished that I was lying. That I could somehow find a way to stop loving her so that she could never hurt me again.

“I love you,” I repeated. “I just don’t like you very much.”

Her lips whitened as she pressed them tightly together. She didn’t spare me another second of her time. Instead, she turned on her heels and strode out of the room with as much poise and dignity as ever. It was as if she had merely been attending a business meeting and, having found the terms unsatisfactory, had no other recourse but to leave, secure in the knowledge that
she
at least had been reasonable.

The stiffness in my shoulders slowly began to ease as I faced my dad. “I’d like you to enroll me at the high school closest to Lewis & Clark. That should make things easier for both of us.”

“Are you sure you want to do that, princess?” he asked me seriously. “Leave all your friends behind when you’ve only just come back?”

I laughed hoarsely. “I want a fresh start. Besides, I think I can figure out a forty-minute commute with the people who cared about me when I was halfway around the world.”

And just maybe I’d be able to start something with someone even closer.

T
here’s nothing fun about having enormous holes in your memory that you have to ask other people to fill in.

And there’s no super-casual way to bring it up either. Hallmark hasn’t exactly created a card that says,
Thanks for throwing that great party last night. Any chance you could fill in a few details sometime soon?
Even knowing that I had probably spent most of that void in a hospital or in transit to a hospital didn’t exactly sit well with me. I wanted details.

“Hey, buddy,” I said casually the first time Ben came to visit me in the hospital. “Perfect timing. I was hoping to hear a bedtime story. Something exotic. Here, let me start you off:
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess who went to meet a very wicked drug dealer. . . .
Why don’t you take it from there?”

Ben laughed and flopped down into the chair beside my bed. “I don’t know if you really want to hear my version of that story. The beautiful princess was super-close with this very handsome knight who enjoyed staring at her luscious—”

“Seriously, Ben,” I interrupted. “It doesn’t feel real to me. You know, just waking up in Oregon after everything faded to black. That may work in the movies, but it’s creeping me out.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “The handsome knight screwed up and let the princess down. That’s the story. It has a happy ending to it though. The princess lived, and the knight was magically transformed into a jackass. The end.”

“Ben, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

He scrubbed his face with one hand and then closed his eyes. “I’m just . . . so sorry I told you to set up that exchange with Rithisak Sovann. I wasn’t thinking. Obviously. It honestly never occurred to me that you would be going to meet him alone.” He peeked at me through his fingers. “Any chance you could forgive me?”

“Hold up, what do you mean,
you didn’t think I was alone?
None of the others were with me! Isn’t that the definition of alone?”

“I thought you would have a new plan or an army of Chelsea’s helpers or
. . .
something.”

I tried not to laugh because my rib hurt like hell anytime I so much as snickered. “You have got to be
kidding
me!”

Ben couldn’t even bring himself to meet my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Chelsea.”

“I’m actually . . . oddly flattered. Don’t get me wrong, you
definitely
should have told me that I was flying completely solo
before
I arranged a private meeting with a drug lord. But I kind of like the badass version of me you’ve got floating around in that pervy head of yours. She’s not real, but she’s pretty freaking cool.”

“Chelsea, you waited until Neal was low on the ground before you used a
chemical weapon
against three enormous men who wanted to kill you. I don’t think you have to worry about not living up to anyone’s hype.”

And yet I hardly recognized the scene that he was describing. I hadn’t intentionally waited for Neal to hit the pavement before dropping the Buddha because I thought it would increase his chances of survival. That just happened to be when three big, scary guys all started walking toward me. . . .

It had been mostly luck, whether or not Ben wanted to see it that way.

“So what happened, Ben? I hit my head, passed out,
and . . . ”

“I guess some lady saw them beating the crap out of Neal earlier and she tracked down a security guard. By the time they got there, all of you were unconscious except for Neal.”

I mock glared at him. “Are you taking dramatic pauses now? Come on, spill!”

Ben shrugged. “Everyone was rushed to the hospital, and thankfully one of the nurses there answered your prepaid phone because otherwise we still might not be sitting here right now.”

“You called me?” I asked, feeling oddly touched.

“Just for the record: We all called you. When you didn’t pick up the third time, we also panicked.” Ben grimaced. “Houston almost killed me when I told him about our last conversation.”

I tried to sit up straighter, but my aching body quickly vetoed that idea. “What did he, uh . . . say?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t so much the words he used as it was the decibel level at which he hollered them.” He glanced guiltily at his shoes while he scuffed them on the linoleum hospital flooring. “So, uh . . . you do forgive me, right?”

“You’ve won me over with your brilliant storytelling,” I quipped. “So how did Houston react when he found out Neal and I were in the hospital?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Oh no, we are
not
doing that whole girl thing where you dissect some guy’s every move to figure out if he likes you. Not happening. Take that junk to Amy’s room. She’ll love it.”

I opened my mouth, but Ben cut me off before I could ask the next question on my mind. “
Yes!
Amy is still doing just fine. She perked right up when your dad brought her all those romance novels from you. She wanted me to deliver some message to you, but there was no mention of anything even remotely sexual, so I’m afraid I can’t remember a word of it.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I informed him.

Ben was shrugging his acceptance when a knock on the door interrupted us and a familiar multicolored head peeked in. “Good, you’re both here. I need a break from Neal. He keeps trying to cram lectures on the history of Cambodia into my visits.” Liz perched on the side of my bed and gently patted my leg. “Admit it, Chelsea; that’s the real reason you’re still lying here.”

I smiled wryly and gestured at the source of my constant pain. “It’s not everything that it’s
cracked
up to be.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “That answers my question about whether or not they’ve got you on morphine. Just let me know when the real Chelsea Halloway comes back, okay?”

“She was just asking me to fill her in on our epic escape from Cambodia.”

Liz grinned and briefly traded a knowing look with Ben before her focus shifted to me. “How far did he get into it? I think my personal favorite moment was when Houston went completely berserk and rushed over to the hospital with me to make sure that we wouldn’t be bringing any corpses home with us. Now
that
was pretty epic.”

“He really freaked out over me?”

“Big-time.”

Ben stretched and began to edge his way toward the exit. “Well, I’ll leave the two of you to talk everything over while I drop in on Neal.”

“You’ll be singing a very different tune once he gets going on the rise of Pol Pot,” Liz predicted darkly.

“I’ll risk it. Get better soon, Chelsea.” Ben hesitated at the door and then swore under his breath. “Houston’s ex-girlfriend Carolyn is dropping by our new dorm room tonight so that they can have a talk. But this is
not
me getting involved, do you understand?”

I nodded wordlessly, torn between laughing at Ben’s obvious discomfort and crying because . . .

“What happens in Cambodia stays in Cambodia,” I mumbled to myself.

“Here’s the thing about that saying: It couldn’t be any more wrong.” Liz jerked her head toward the door that had already shut behind Ben. “Not too surprising, considering the genius who came up with it.”

I managed a smile, but it felt wobbly around the edges, as if the expression knew it had no business being on my face. “What do you mean, Liz? We all agreed to it.”

“We agreed to that before a lot of things happened, Chelsea. Just off the top of my head . . . before you confronted a notorious drug dealer and Buddha-bombed yourself. Before the boys and I teamed up with those journalists Jane promised were on their way and pressured the hotel staff into leading us to Amy. Before your buddy Aaron made a few calls and scored us seats on the Brookes and Merriweather corporate jet in exchange for the promise of some
very
flattering press coverage—it’s really a shame you were so out of it during the flight. Are you noticing a trend?”

“Not really.”

“You’re the person who made it very clear that no one would be left behind. Now you’re stuck with us. Forever.” Liz crossed her arms. “Deal with it.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure everyone in the group sees it that way.” My words came out raspy, and Liz reached to fill up my water glass and hand it to me.

“You mean Houston, right? I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to guys, but I’m pretty sure it is generally considered a bad idea to tell your ex that you want him back in front of someone else. Even in a hospital.
Especially
when that someone else is a guy like Houston. But that’s just my advice.”

“I was actually referring to Amy.”

Liz snatched the water glass out of my hand, sloshing some of it on my arm in the process.
“How did you manage to sneak alcohol into a hospital!”
She dramatically lifted it up to her face. “
Hmm
. . . it smells like water. It looks like water. And yet, you’re clearly under the influence of something. . . .”

“Amy was kidnapped and
beaten
because of me. I don’t think that’s the kind of thing she’s going to forget overnight.”

I didn’t see Liz’s finger coming until she was jabbing me in the shoulder. “Amy was beaten because
insane drug dealers
don’t usually like it when people pry into their business. And, yes, I am sure she’s going to have more than her fair share of nightmares. But she’s way too strong to let it destroy a friendship.”

“You mean she’s too nice.”

“No, actually, I had it right the first time. You want to hear what Amy’s first words were for me when we boarded that private plane back home?”

I nodded my head mutely.

“She said,
I’ve got this great idea for a romance novel. It’s about this group of college students studying abroad in Cambodia who accidentally anger a drug lord. . . .
”

I burst out laughing, and it was worth every sharp spike of pain radiating from my rib.

“A
romance
novel? Right after being abducted and tortured she wants to start writing a book about it?”

Liz’s smile was tinged with awe. “She told me that every time they hit her, she promised herself to use it as research. Then she mentioned something about Navy SEALs coming to the rescue, so I don’t think it’s going to be all that autobiographical. Oh, and she’s convinced that one of us needs to die.”

I shot her a skeptical look. “And you’re sure she isn’t mad at me?”

“Positive. She’s thinking that Ben would make an excellent victim. I’m not sure what exactly she means by that, but she seems excited about it.”

I tried to stifle a yawn, but Liz wasn’t fooled. “Okay, I’m out of here. Any messages you want me to relay, now that we don’t have to worry about any drug lords abducting us?”

When I just stared at her incredulously she smirked. “Too soon?”

“Um . . .
yes!
”

“Probably for the best anyway. I think Houston deserves to hear how you feel straight from the source.” Liz winked at me before she disappeared.

Now all I had to do was scrounge up the courage to do it.