Pandemic (8 page)

“I don’t know. He made it sound like, how could I not give us one more chance?” My phone pinged. “Ugh.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Ethan’s already texting me.” I sighed. “He’s looking forward to tonight.”

“Ah, it’s nice to see he hasn’t lost that stalker-ish quality.”

I glared at her.

“Lil, you know I’m right. If your heart’s not in it, don’t go.”

“I miss my old life before . . . everything.” I kept flipping through her closet.

“But dating Ethan again won’t magically turn back time. It won’t make the other stuff vanish.”

“I guess you’re right,” I said.

“Hmm . . . at least we both have dates tonight.”

“It’s not a date. I’m going over to his house.”

“I’m sure we’ll have a lot to talk about tomorrow,” she said. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting him.”

Near the back of the closet, a black top with three-quarter sleeves was lodged between two camis. I didn’t even take it all the way out before Megs shook her head. Her face was shiny and I realized she was sweating. “Are you nervous?”

“A little. I’m not feeling great. I think it’s all the excitement.”

“You shouldn’t go if you don’t feel well.”

She scowled at me. “I have to go. I can’t explain it. It feels like part of something bigger, like destiny.”

I pursed my lips together to keep from spouting my opinion. After pulling out a pale blue shirt, I held it against her. “This will look good with—”

My fingers brushed against her arm. She was burning hot. I put the back of my hand against her forehead the way Mom always did to me. “You feel feverish.”

“I’m fine.” She swayed as she tried to stand.

“Megs, you’re sick.” Fear made my voice quiver. “You can’t go. This is crazy.”

“It’s too late to cancel.” She sank onto her bed, coughing. “Can you get me a glass of water while I change?”

“Sure.” I hurried to the kitchen. Mrs. Salerno sat at the counter, a newspaper spread in front of her.

I had to tell her about Megs. She’d forgive me for missing her date, eventually. “Mrs. Salerno, I . . .”

She looked at me, waiting.

Then we both heard it: the crashing sound from Megs’s room.

We raced up the stairs. Megs lay sprawled on the floor next to her toppled bedside table.

“I felt dizzy, and then . . .”

Mrs. Salerno scooped her up and laid her on the bed. “Let me get the thermometer.”

After her mom left the room, Megs looked at me, pleading. “I need you to do me a favor.”

I knew what she was about to ask. “No way.”

“Please? You don’t have to talk to him. It’ll be crowded, so he won’t notice you. Look for the guy carrying a book, something that would have meaning to me. Then I’ll tell him later how sick I was, that I couldn’t make it.”

“I’m supposed to meet Ethan soon. And a crowded shop mean germs.”

“Could you tell him you’re running late? It wouldn’t take much time. If you walked in and out, it’s like two minutes of exposure.” She widened her eyes, pleading.

This was important to her, no matter how much I disapproved. I considered it. For my best friend, I could probably handle a few moments in a public place.

Megs sensed me cave. “And if you could sneak a photo—”

“I’m not taking a photo of some creep who’ll follow me home and dismember me!”

“But you’ll go? Please?”

I sighed. “No speaking to him, right?”

Her squeal of joy ended in a coughing fit. “You’re the best.”

“If I don’t make it home alive, be sure to send out a search party.”

She snuggled under the covers. “I’ll be having blissful dreams about him until you report back.”

Mrs. Salerno returned. “You should leave, Lily. It’s probably too late, but if she’s contagious . . .”

Contagious
. Could she have the flu? No, not Megs. She was fine earlier today. I ticked off the symptoms. Fever, cough, sudden onset of illness. I couldn’t deny the possibility. “Will you take her to the hospital?”

“The hospital!” Megs shrieked.

Mrs. Salerno’s eyes reflected my worry. “I’ll take care of her. You should go.”

“OK. I’ll talk to you later.”

I scrubbed my hands in their kitchen sink before heading to the coffee shop. If I spotted her guy, great. If not, I’d go right to Ethan’s. That was it. But why did I feel so nervous?

Maybe it wasn’t about meeting a stranger. Maybe the anxiety came from my BFF getting sick. But Mrs. Salerno was with her. She’d die before she’d let anything happen to Megs.

What about me? Could I have just been exposed to a deadly virus? I imagined the tiny germs floating around in her room, an invisible menace, my every inhale putting me at risk. Even as I walked to the coffee shop they could be multiplying in my lungs and—

Get a grip.
I had to stop making myself crazy. I couldn’t exactly give up breathing as a preventative measure. Yes, Megs was sick, but that didn’t mean she had the flu, or that it lurked inside my body, waiting to assault me.

I glanced at the time. I’d be about ten minutes late for her date. Maybe the mystery guy would already be gone. I texted Ethan, letting him know I was running behind. He sent back a frowny face.

Inside the coffee shop, I checked out the other customers while I waited my turn to order. At least everyone looked healthy. Two moms chatted with toddlers on their laps. A heavy-set guy about our age talked on his cell phone at a table by the window. Hmm. Could he be Megs’s friend?

Then I spotted who I’d imagined her talking to: an old man who needed a bath, hunched in the corner in his torn raincoat. I didn’t see a book on his table, only a newspaper. “Illness Invades Suburban New Jersey” the headline screamed. The large, bold type scared me, and so did the guy reading it.

She’s been chatting with a creeper. I knew it.

Shivering, I ordered a decaf caramel latte with skim milk to go. While a long-haired guy made my drink, I glanced at the rest of the customers. There was a group of girls, maybe college-aged. No other boys.

That was it. I had done my good deed. After getting my coffee, I turned to hurry out and crashed right into Jay, knocking his book to the floor.

“I’m such a klutz.” I picked up the paperback and handed it to him. Miraculously, the plastic lid contained my drink.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” His cheeks reddened.

“What?” I held the door handle, ready to go.

He stared at the paperback a moment before slowly handing it to me.

I took it, confused. “
The Anti-Optimist’s Guide to the Universe
?”

“I kept hoping it was you,” Jay said.

C
HAPTER
8

One troubling aspect of the flu in 1918 was the number of healthy young adults who died. There is concern that the Blue Flu may follow the same unusual and deadly pattern of fatalities.

—Blue Flu interview, emerging infectious disease specialist

C
lutching the book, I could almost hear the
click, click, click
of my brain slowing as I stood in the coffee shop facing Jay.

“All those times online,” he said. “Did you know it was me? It took me awhile to figure out it was you.”

Perplexed, I stalled for time. “What made you think it was me?”

“When we walked home from the grocery store that day, you mentioned the end-of-the-world movie and being an only child, like we talked about online.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage before sinking into the nearest chair. Megs had been chatting with Jay, and he thought he was chatting with me. Wow.

“Wait here. I’ll get my coffee and be right back,” he said.

I nodded, then rested my chin between my palms. I glanced at the book. He’d told Megs she would know it was him based on the title.
The
Anti-
Optimist’s Guide to the Universe
. I thought back to her inventing a flaw, saying that she was a pessimist. How was I ever going to explain this to him? Or to her?

Jay sat across from me. He smiled, a shyer smile than I was used to seeing at the smoker’s corner. “You’re more reserved in person. But when we were typing, I felt connected, you know? And when you suggested meeting, I thought you figured out who I was.”

“Well . . . you see . . .” I took a deep breath, decided to plunge in, like starting with question number one on a test I hadn’t studied for. No skipping around. “This is going to be confusing, but you weren’t chatting with me. It was Megs Salerno.”

“But you mentioned the movie and—”

“That one time it was me. But the others—”

My phone rang. “It’s Megs,” I told him.

She spoke so low I could barely hear her. “I’m on my way to the hospital.”

“It’s good to see a doctor, to be safe. Which hospital? Morristown General?”

“Yeah.”

Hospitals meant more sick people. But I’d worry about that later. Our friendship had to trump my fear. “I’ll meet you there.” I tried to think of people I could ask to drive me. Maybe a taxi would be faster?

“No. My mom said . . . if I’m contagious . . .”

“I should be there with you. If you’re contagious I’ve already been exposed.”

The coffee shop got quiet. People stared in accusing silence. Apparently I wasn’t the only one worried about the mysterious disease.

“Sorry,” I mouthed to Jay before going outside.

“Lil, are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here.” I leaned against the brick wall, away from the door.

“I’m going to hang up and send a text, OK?” she said.

“Sure.”

Please. Please let the doctors be able to help. If Dad’s assistant had gone into a coma . . . but she was pregnant. This was different. This had to be different.

Oh God, oh God, Megs please don’t be that sick.

Please let Megs be OK. Please.

I forgot about everything else, absorbed in a walking-home prayer for Megs. I was considering more effective bargains I could make with the universe when Jay caught up to me, flustered and annoyed.

“You didn’t say good-bye.”

“Megs is sick. Like, hospitalization-sick.” The words sounded robotic, detached.
This cannot be happening
.

“Oh.” The annoyance faded from his face. “Mind if I walk with you?”

I shrugged. He held out a cigarette and I took it. We paused for a second to light them. The simple act calmed me a little.

My phone pinged with a text. “Ugh,” I mumbled. “It’s Ethan.” I was going to be even later than I thought. But I couldn’t deal with texting him now.

“I thought the two of you were over,” Jay said. “Or I wouldn’t have met you tonight.”

“We are over, sort of, I guess, but Ethan isn’t the point. It’s Megs. She really likes you. I chatted with you that one night, when we were about to watch the movie. And she joked about pessimism being a weakness, since it’s clearly mine. But otherwise, your relationship was with her.” I inhaled, then exhaled, watching the smoke drift into the air and disappear. “I’m sorry if we misled you. When Megs got sick, she begged me to come to the coffee shop to see who would show. She’s at the emergency room now.”

“You must be worried.”

“She’s been my best friend since we were five.” My voice hitched in my throat and I willed myself not to cry. We walked in silence for a couple of blocks. I was grateful for the quiet.

“Maybe you should text her,” I said, “and make plans for another day? It might cheer her up.”

He shook his head. “It’s you I’ve been thinking about.”

My head spun. Megs was being treated at Morristown General for a potentially fatal disease, to which I may have been exposed. Her dream guy was crushing on me like a scene from a bad romantic comedy. Ethan would have a fit when I canceled tonight. And all I wanted was to go back in time, to be walking to school this morning with my happy, healthy best friend.

I dropped my cigarette butt, smushing it with my foot. “I don’t think . . . look, you’re a nice guy, but you don’t know me that well. I’m not really girlfriend material.”

“What does that mean, ‘not girlfriend material’?”

I needed to stop this whole disaster before it got worse. “It means I don’t want someone texting me and touching me and invading my emotional life. Besides, Megs likes you. You should get to know her better.”

I expected an argument. Ethan would have argued. Like a starved pit bull with a bone, he wouldn’t have let it drop.

“Fine,” Jay said softly. “I’ll see you around.”

Once inside the house, I found myself stomping around, even though Jay had been perfectly gracious. When did everything get so complicated?

Sinking into the couch, I checked my phone. Ethan had sent eleven texts, wondering why I didn’t show.

He answered on the first ring. “Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry. The whole night got messed up and I lost track of time. Megs is sick.”

“You’re at her house?”

“No, her mom made me leave in case she’s contagious. They went to the hospital.”