Radiate (40 page)

There’s a profound silence as my chest rises and falls from unsteady breathing. I assume she’s still there, listening.

“I worshiped you,” I say softly. “You’re my big sis, the one I looked up to. Not now. You’re the problem. The hindrance. The cause of our struggles. How can you let Mom and Dad suffer like this?”

Her muffled sobs come through the phone clear as day plucking at my heartstrings. What a turd I am taking out my frustrations on her. I certainly don’t hate her or anything. I just needed to let her know how I feel.

“I’m so sorry, Hayley,” she finally says over her sniffs.

“Gretchen, I’m—”

“No, you’re right. One hundred percent right. I had a lot of problems when I was your age. Mainly because I was trying to fit in and fell in with the wrong crowd. It was easier to drug up or get drunk and fit in than to be myself and take the risks of being accepted or rejected. I was never as strong as you, Hayley.”

I choke back my own emotional swell bubbling in my chest.

“I’m going to make this right, Hayley. I promise.”

“How, Gretchen? Dad may lose the store. That’s not your fault. I just looped that in.”

“It’s okay, sweetie... I’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, letting the tears fall.

“No,
I’m
sorry,” she says. “You’re the bravest person I know, and you don’t deserve to have your future messed up because of me. I’ll make this better. I promise you.”

Now I’m quiet.

“I love you, Hayley.”

“I love you, too, Gretchen. Please come home.”

“I’ll do what I can. Talk to you soon.”

The phone clicks, and I stare at the blank screen, damp from my tears.

I don’t know what Gretchen can do, but anything will help at this point. God knows, we need it. I have to put my faith in her... and in Him, like I’ve done so many times before.

Hope is that thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all.

—Emily Dickinson

As if the family tension isn’t enough, I’ve got to deal with Gabriel at school on Monday. He’s standoffish to me in AP English, not even saying good morning or rubbing my head like he usually does. I don’t understand what I did wrong. Was my kiss
that
unpleasant for him?

“I don’t know what to do,” I say, picking at my mac and cheese at lunch. I finally opened up to Lora and told her everything that happened with Gabriel after the game.

She points her fork at me and scowls. “I think you really need to exercise that new backbone you’ve grown. You know, the one you used to tell Chloe what a shit she is? Which was long overdue, by the way. Just talk to Gabriel and tell him how you feel.”

“Progressive new concept,” I say with a smile.

Why not... I’ll try anything. The new Hayley Matthews kicks ass and takes names.

Last period, I change into a long-sleeved T-shirt and my shorts and walk through the gym. Because of the cold December chill outside, no one seems too motivated to do much of anything. Most of the girls in my class are over in the corner watching a DVD on health issues. There are five guys playing a game of horse on one end of the basketball court while a crowded volleyball game is full press on the other side. Only a handful of football players are using the weight machines, so I head over for my workout.

Gabriel is on the leg press, sweating hard. His muscles bulge with each labored breath as his well-built legs lift more than two hundred pounds. His hands grip the railings, and he breathes hard as he counts repetitions. From his look of concentration, I would say he’s trying to exorcise something out of his system. I just hope it’s not me.

If we can’t be boyfriend and girlfriend, hopefully we can still be friends. I’d hate to think of life without him.

I cross over to the elliptical machine opposite him and punch in fifteen minutes. I slip my headphones on so I can move to the rhythm of the electronic beats. I pump and climb and churn my leg muscles, feeling the burn with every move. It’s all good, though—all part of my physical rehab.

Too bad my mental rehab has taken a step back. I regret my phone call to Gretchen and how I laid into her. I don’t know all of the details, and it wasn’t right to stick my nose in where it didn’t belong. I’m just so worried about the stress on Mom and Dad and our family’s financial future. Cancer and its stack of medical bills aren’t exactly something you budget for. Neither is having your oldest child clean out your savings account. Gretchen does need to make things right... in the very least with our parents.

I push the beads of sweat away that roll down my face. The intense workout has my blood pumping and my heart racing. For what it’s worth, I’m in the best shape of my life—go figure.

When the timer buzzes for the elliptical, I step down and towel off my face. I glance around and see that Gabriel’s moved on to the free weights where he’s doing arm curls over his head to tone his back muscles.

Good idea.

I step over near him and select two ten-pound weights. I start doing the arm curls he showed me a few weeks ago. I’m in the third set when I see in the mirror that Gabriel is standing behind me. I’d love to spin around and attack him with a hug and a kiss. However, I don’t want to cause a scene in the gym, especially if he pushes me away.

“You’re doing that wrong,” he says to me.

My arms drop to my sides with the weights dangling in each furled fist. “I am?”

Gabriel reaches around and lifts my left arm. “Do it this way.”

Like a rag doll, I allow him to position me properly. As he moves my arm upward, our eyes meet in the mirror. We stand locked like that for what seems an eternity, and then he removes his hand from mine and backs away.

I slam the weights back into their grooved housing and turn my continued frustration on him.

“What is your major malfunction with me?” I bite out at him. A couple of the football players stop midlift and turn their attention to the drama unfolding.

Gabriel seems speechless. Or maybe he’s just embarrassed by our intimate moment the other night. Either way, I lay into him much like I did with my sister. Lora’s right. I’m rehabilitating my backbone, as well.

I advance on him. “I don’t understand you, Gabriel. You’re the one person in this whole school who made me feel normal. I thought we shared a...
moment .
.
.
the other night. Apparently not. I understand if you don’t want to go out with the bald chick, but I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

He retreats to the leg press and grabs his towel, swiping it furiously over his face. “You know, Hay, you’ve been hanging around bitches like Chloe Bradenton too long. She’s made you dense as shit.”

My eyes jump open and I bow up. “Excuuuuuse me?”

He slams the towel down. “You heard me.” He closes the distance between us, slants toward me, and lowers his voice. “What happened between us the other night had
nothing
to do with your hair. Give me a break! Why do you think I kissed you in the haunted house?”

“Wh-wh-what?” I fight to catch my breath at the realization. “That was you?”

Gabriel notices some of the football players taking in our conversation, so he reaches over and grabs me by the hand, tugging me along with him. We climb the bleachers up to the top row where he sits and waits for me to do the same.

I can’t believe he’s the one who kissed me. Not Daniel. Not some phantom, wonderful mystery guy. But Gabriel.
He’s
the one who thinks I’m amazing.

“Look,” he begins, not looking at me. “I’m sorry about the kiss in the haunted house. I saw you, you were so cute in your zombie outfit, it was dark, and I took advantage of the situation.”

He thinks I’m cute? I smile broadly at him, hoping to ease his embarrassment.

“It’s okay, Gabe,” I say reassuringly. “If you kissed me then, why did you push me away Friday night in the car?”

He shakes his head. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, and it wouldn’t be fair to burden you with my problems while you’re dealing with your own.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, give me a freaking break, would you? In the least, you’re my friend. A friend I’ve missed and one I’m thrilled to have back in my life. If there’s something going on with you, I want to know.” I stretch my hand out to take his. “I want to be there for you like you’ve been here for me.”

He takes a deep breath. “Okay, here it is.”

I brace myself for the absolute worst.

“Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve suffered from petit mal seizures, a form of epilepsy.”

“Ohhh-kay . . .” I say, waiting for something worse.

“That’s why my family left town six years ago.”

I resist the urge to laugh. “That’s your big secret? You have seizures?”

“It’s a big thing, Hay. Remember how we’d be talking and stuff and I would sort of zone out? Those were seizures. The older I got, the more prominent they became, to the point where they’d last like fifteen seconds or more. I’d be in one room of the house and then come to in another one. It was freaky.”

This time, I do giggle. “I remember you did that when we were watching TV one time. I was talking to you, and you zoned out for ten seconds, staring into space. I just thought you were being a boy with no attention span.”

“Yeah, it was getting bad, especially in school. Mrs. Hendrix in fifth grade kept writing me up as not paying attention in class and even went so far as to tell my parents I had ADHD. My mom explained to her what was going on, but it didn’t help. Maxwell just didn’t have the medical personnel to help me out.”

“Do you still have them?”

“I haven’t for a long time,” he explains. “We moved to Cincinnati because Children’s Hospital there specializes in cases like mine. Thanks to the anticonvulsant medication they gave me, we could control the seizures until I outgrew them.”

I play with his thumb, stroking my fingers over it as I take all of this in. “You outgrew them?”

“Pretty much.” He nods. “They mostly last until you’re through puberty. Last spring, the doctors weaned me off the medication, and I’ve been good ever since. We would have stayed in Cincinnati if my grandfather hadn’t gotten sick. But I’m glad we came back to Maxwell. I’m happy I could be here for you.”

His hand caresses mine; his thumb brushing over my knuckles and giving me chill bumps up and down my arms. He likes me. I know he does. That’s what makes all of this so damn confusing.

I cock my head to the side and ask frankly, “So, this is why we can’t date?”

He stammers for a second and then tells me, “I feel too abnormal to get involved with someone. This is, like, hereditary, and I can pass it down the line.”

I laugh at his seriousness. “Gabe, we’re still teenagers. I don’t want to get married and have babies or anything right away. I only want to get closer to you and have fun.”

His eyes soften and he peers out at me. “With everything you’ve been through, I didn’t want to burden you.”

I pull back and smack him hard on his chiseled arm until we laugh together. “It’s fine.” I think about Mom and Dad and all they’ve been through in their years as a couple, through thick and thin, hard times and good times. That’s what your significant other is for—to be there with you and to share the experiences. Gabriel’s been here with me since my diagnosis, supporting me, encouraging me, helping me get back on my feet—literally. “We’re both survivors, Gabriel,” I say to him, brimming over with happiness.

He snakes his hand out around my waist and pulls me closer to him. “That we are.”

Then he kisses me. There’s no hesitation this time. It’s not a kiss between friends, but between two people who have so much to offer and share with each other.

When we break apart, Gabriel smiles and touches his forehead to mine. “So, you want to go to the football banquet with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

If you learn from your suffering, and really come to understand the lesson you were taught, you might be able to help someone else who’s now in the phase you may have just completed. Maybe that’s what it’s all about after all.

—Author Unknown

Wednesday evening, Dad walks in the back door and heads straight to the refrigerator. He pulls out a cold beer—one that’s been in there forever since he doesn’t drink much. He sits at the kitchen table and announces, “It’s done. I sold the business and inventory to Homestead Hardware.”

Mom moves to hug him. Obviously she knew this was in the works, but I’m shocked.

“Whuuu... huh?” I stumble out.

Dad sips the brew and relishes the taste as he closes his eyes and sits back. “We couldn’t compete anymore. They paid a fair price for everything, and we should be okay for several months while I start looking for my next job.”

“I got a call back from the law firm for a second interview,” Mom announces. “They’re looking for someone only twenty hours a week, so I think that’ll be perfect for me.”

Dad nods. “I got a call from a headhunter yesterday. Imagine the timing. They’re looking for someone short-term over at Game On. Isn’t that your friend, Ross Scott’s business?”

I sit up and take notice. “It is, Dad! You should totally go work there. Since Ross is in the hospital, he can’t run everything. I’ll talk to him.”

Waving me off, Dad says, “Thanks, Little Kid, but I’ll take care of it. Go through the proper channels.”

“It’s a good lead, Jared,” Mom says.

Dad reaches for her hand and kisses it. “We’re going to be fine, Nan.”

I know Dad basically told me to butt out. I want to help, though. I can at least put in a good word... something... anything.

“May I borrow the car?” I ask my mother.

“I was just about to put dinner on.”

“That’s what the microwave is for, Nan,” I say with a laugh. “I really need to do something right now. Trust me.”