Through to You (17 page)

“You okay?” I ask, when she’s got both stilettos under her again.

“Yeah, thanks, I—Camden?”

I let go of her fast. “You should be more careful in those things, Tash.”

I head past her up the stairs, but before I’ve gone two steps I’m slammed backward into the railing by a very red-faced Logan West.

“You messing with my girl, Pike?”

It’s difficult to form a coherent sentence when your back is bent at an unnatural angle over a metal railing.

“Your girl?”

“Don’t get any ideas this time, understand?” He nods at her. “That right there is mine.”

I glance over at Tash, whose hair is done up so she resembles a poodle in a pink outfit. Even if Viv’s kiss wasn’t warm on my lips, the suggestion is so ridiculous, I laugh out loud.

“Congrats, I didn’t know you were official,” I say. “Last I heard, you two were just friends with benefits.”

Logan shoves me again, and for a moment I think he’s going to throw the punch he’s been waiting to deliver since Viv left him, and send me clear over the railing … but it still doesn’t come. There’s a wide receiver standing between me and the not-so-star quarterback.

“Hey, West, why don’t you go buy your
girlfriend
practical shoes?” Mike says. “If Pike hadn’t caught her, she’d have fallen on her ass.”

Logan’s face darkens from red to purple. He looks from me to Mike, then down the steps at Tash.

“Girlfriend?” Tash’s smile spreads as she looks from Mike to Logan. “I’m texting Niki!”

Logan passes us by, trying to get a word in while Tash effectively broadcasts the news to the whole school.

I glare at Mike.

He raises his eyebrows. “Good morning to you too?”

My mood darkens for the first time in days. I might not be on the team anymore, but when did Mike decide that means I need to be coddled and protected? I think of the Red King, standing proud in front of the school—on Viv’s arm. What would she think of Mike fighting my battles for me?

“I can deal with Logan myself,” I snap.

“Sorry, were you
trying
to get that nose of yours broken?”

I clench my jaw. “Just let me handle my own shit. Don’t you have some of your own to deal with, or are you too nice a guy to get yourself punched?”

“Dude, what the—”

“Just back off, okay?” I start up the stairs, but the look on Mike’s face slows me down. How do I explain that I don’t want to seem like a loser compared to—another me?

When I get to the top, he calls out, “What the hell happened to you, Pike?”

I shrug and call over my shoulder, “I had a great weekend.”

“Mr. Reed!” I call across the hall on my way to lunch.

My ex-coach stops in his tracks and waits for me out of the flow of student traffic.

“Mr. Pike? Is there something I can do for you?”

I feel a little stupid coming to him about this, but now that I’m standing in front of him, I can’t exactly back down.

“I was hoping, I mean, I want to ask you … Do you think I could get into a P.E. class?”

He starts to open his mouth, but I barrel forward before either of us can think.

“I have second period free, and I mean, I know there’s my leg and all, but I just think maybe it would be good for me. I kind of—want to get back in shape. Not to play again, obviously, but I don’t know …”

My face grows hot. Reed stands there impassively. I swear he doesn’t even blink for a whole minute.

“If you think you’re up for it … I’ll have the office take care of it, Camden.”

My jaw drops open. I thought he’d at least say he had to think about it.

“Okay. Thanks, um—Coach.”

“Cam,” he says as I hurry away. “You’ll have a locker assigned tomorrow. Bring gym clothes.”

I’m
in.

I pass through the lunchroom, but only to buy food. The burgers haven’t improved any since Viv and I picked at them last year, but I heap on a ton of condiments until they appear edible. I rewrap them in foil and ditch my tray by the doors before heading out into the hall. But when I see Mike hunched over his sketchbook in our usual doorway, I slow down.

He nods at the burgers when I approach. “You going back on food?”

“I could put on a pound or two,” I say cautiously.

I just want to go find a place to sit—by myself. I steal a glance at the open notebook in his lap, which features a detailed rendition of what appears to be a sexy girl-wildebeest thing. I raise an eyebrow. New territory for him.

“So, you going to eat standing up, or what?” he says.

He’s just sitting there chewing his energy bars and drawing, as usual, like I wasn’t a total ass to him this morning. I hover a few long seconds and sit down.

I chew my food mechanically, trying to make every bite last so I have an excuse not to talk. I watch things going on around us instead. Keisha Todd and James Clark are making out across the hall. The Math Club guys next to us are hunched over notebooks doing equation drills. At one point, I see Tash Clemons and her posse click down the hall—apparently they
coordinated
wearing stilettos so they could hang on to one another to walk all day.

“So I was just curious,” Mike says, sticking his pencil behind his ear. “I saw the memorial is gone … did
you
take it down?”

Why can’t he just not want to talk to me after this morning, like any normal person would?

“Yeah,” I say, wiping mustard from my mouth.

“Mind if I ask why?”

“
You’re
the one who suggested I get on living my life. What do you want?”

“No, I—well, maybe I did.” He grips his power-drink bottle. “I mean, do what you need to. I just wondered what it means.”

“It means I took it down.” I crumple my wrappers.

“It’s just bizarre,” he says. “One day you’re slumped over on the floor after Logan looks at you, the next you’re helping Tash out and looking for a fight. What happened this weekend, Cam?”

I stand up fast and sling my backpack over my arm. “I can’t stay sad forever.”

IT
’
S BARELY DUSK WHEN I GET TO THE CORNER, BUT I
’
M SICK OF
waiting. I never feel quite complete when I’m not with Viv. After ducking through the green light, I immediately head in the direction of her house. There are clouds in the sky, but it’s not cold enough for it to snow. Still, I pick up my pace to keep from shivering.

I start thinking of places where Viv and I can be alone tonight—somewhere warmer than the playground, maybe even a movie theater. No one would see us in the dark. Chattering voices catch my attention when I’m halfway through an intersection, and I look up to see a group of high school kids coming right at me. There are a few guys and a couple girls, but I don’t recognize any of them at first glance. They’re caught up in some conversation about a TV show, but then one of them glances over at me, and I glance back—and it’s
Logan.

He stops, and I stop, and I’m pretty sure
both
of our hearts stop for a second-long infinity, judging by his face. I’ve never seen those shifty, calculating eyes get so huge.

“Hey—”

I take off before he can finish the word.

I run through backyards faster than I think I ever ran in football. I yank my hoodie up and jump a fence, avoid a pool, and skip over to the next block. I run up that street until I realize I’m out in the open, and I dash down someone’s driveway, behind a garage. A dog barks at me, and I skip to the next yard, but then I start to recognize where I am. I glance back, but no one’s directly on my tail, so I head straight through two more yards until I get to Nina’s house. I crouch against the siding behind the bushes by her porch, waiting for a posse of five people to come flush me out.

After several minutes of silence, my heart stops pounding quite so hard, and I guess my brain switches out of fight-or-flight mode because my right leg feels like it’s on
fire
. I limp out of hiding, but all I see is the empty street. I don’t hear anything but a car coasting down the next block. I lean forward, massaging the throbbing muscles over my aching bones, and I exhale. I’m such a goddamn idiot. Why the fuck wasn’t I paying attention?

Someone shouts farther down the street and my body goes rigid. The relative feeling of safety abandons me. I reach for the porch railing, and hesitate. The last time I saw Nina, everything was so weird. What will she do if I bang on her door now? The squeal of tires on asphalt pierces my ears, and my priorities shift—what will happen if I get caught out here? I scramble onto the porch and press the doorbell. A few seconds pass, but I don’t hear anyone coming after the chime rings inside the house. I tap on the door frame, turn a nervous circle, and glance out into the darkness. I’m just thankful no one turned on the porch light tonight. I’m about to press the bell again when the door finally swings open and Owen stares up at me.

I nudge him aside, step into the safety of the hall, and turn the deadbolt behind me. I slump against the door and exhale. Owen is still gazing at me mutely.

“Hey, buddy,” I say. “How you doing?”

He gives a faint smile, but doesn’t say anything.

“Um … is Nina around?”

He shrugs. The hair on his forehead is moist with sweat and he’s wicked pale.

I kneel in front of him.

“Owen, where’s Nina?”

His eyes are glassy and unfocused. I try to remember why Nina said he was sick before … diabetes? What do you even do about that? I glance around the house to see if anyone else is around, but it’s mostly dark.

“Is she upstairs?” I ask.

“I don’t wanna bug her …” He trails off.

“C’mon, O.” I take his hand. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

His fingers are cold in mine. He trips on the stairs, but I catch him and try to keep my cool. Something’s seriously wrong with the kid. Nina’s door is closed when we get to the hallway. I knock, but when she doesn’t immediately answer, I open up and go in.

She’s curled on her bed, which is as neatly made as the last time I was in here. She’s dressed in jeans and a sweater, her eyes closed. There’s a notebook open in front of her where she’s scribbled a few math problems, but she’s fallen asleep with a graphic novel in one hand. Her iPod lies by her side, but her earbuds have fallen out, and it’s so quiet, whatever playlist she was listening to must have ended. I grab her calf and shake her.

“Nina!”

She kicks out and shrieks, but I dodge her foot. She flies back against her pillows, getting tangled in her earbuds.

“Jesus—
Cam!?
”

“Something’s wrong with Owen,” I say.

“What the hell are you—” Her eyes fly to her brother. “What—Owen?”

She takes one look at him swaying by my side, and she’s off the bed like a shot, feeling his forehead and talking to him.

“O, what’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

“I’m hungry,” he mumbles.

Nina’s eyes get wide. “What time is it? Did you have dinner?”

Owen shakes his head. “Aunt Car said you’d fix something soon.”

She grips his shoulders, her jaw tight. “This is important, Owen. Do you remember if she gave you an injection before she left?”

He hesitates for what seems like forever, then he nods.

“Are we going to eat soon?”

Nina’s face crumples. She looks around like she’s trying to formulate a plan, then she gets up and moves for the door.

“Hey, what can I do?” I ask. “Do we need to call an ambulance?”

“He needs sugar,” she yells, already halfway down the hall.

Owen looks like he’s about to pass out. I scoop him up in my arms and follow Nina down the stairs. When we reach the kitchen, she digs through the fridge until she pulls out a huge container of orange juice. I place Owen gently in a chair while Nina sloshes juice into a glass. She’s almost as pale as her brother. She brings the cup to his lips, but her hand is unsteady. I take it from her and urge him to drink.

“I’m tired,” he mutters, turning away from the cup.

“
Drink it
, Owen,” Nina pleads.

“Owen, drink the juice, buddy,” I say. “I can’t tell you all my football secrets if you fall asleep.”

He rolls his head toward me and peeks one eye open. I try to keep the anxiety off my face. I nod at him and smile encouragingly. He takes the smallest sip at first, but eventually finishes every drop. Nina seems to calm as I set the empty glass aside, and the tension goes out of my shoulders. I don’t know how juice will help him, but this has to be a good sign.

“What are you even doing here?” she asks me, exhausted.

“Nothing …” I hesitate, reliving the moment when Logan saw me. It seems like a hundred years ago. She doesn’t need to know about that. “But it’s a good thing I showed up.”

Ten minutes later, Owen is alert, if still feeling crappy. I carry him back up to bed where he can get comfortable, and Nina checks his blood sugar at least fifty times before bringing him peanut butter and jelly for dinner.