This is What Goodbye Looks Like (42 page)

A knock at the door startles me from my thoughts, and Camille’s nurse pokes her head in the room. “Camille has a friend here to see her,” she says.

I frown as I mentally run through Camille’s list of friends, wondering who would have come. Camille was always popular, but it’s been months since she’s had a visitor outside our family.

“Who is it?” I ask.

The nurse glances through her bifocals and reads off the chart in her hand. “She signed in as Brianna Myers.”

Shock courses through me, and I open and close my mouth a couple times, struggling for words. “Brie?”

“Brianna Myers,” the nurse repeats. “Tall girl with blond hair. Do you know her?”

I nod and somehow manage to choke out an answer. “Yeah.”

“Well?” the nurse says, raising an eyebrow. “Do you want her to come back and visit Camille?

“Yes,” I say. “Definitely.”

“Then I’ll send her right back,” the nurse says, heading out to fetch her.

I focus on trying not to hyperventilate as I wait. What in the world is Brie doing here? If she’s back in California, she must have a reason for taking time off school and coming here. Surely that reason isn’t me, but what about Bailey? Is he sick again? Is he okay? And am I going to be okay, or is Brie going to walk in here and slap me across the face? I honestly wouldn’t blame her.

My heart pounds so loudly, I almost don’t hear the delicate patter of her footsteps coming down the hall. A second later, there’s a knock.

It takes me two tries to strangle out a response. “Come in.” I don’t know what else to say. Saying a simple “sorry” would just be pathetic. I guess I could also get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness, but I wouldn’t really deserve it. So I just stay quiet as she enters the room.

Brie’s clearly exhausted, her eyes red and her face pinched, but she looks just as put-together as always. I can’t hold back the little sigh of relief that escapes me. If something bad had happened to Bailey, not even Brie would be able to look so presentable.

“Hey,” she murmurs, taking a single step inside the room.

I swallow hard. “Hey.”

She shuffles her feet and picks at the strap of her purse. “Um, Bailey had a follow-up appointment today. So, yeah. I came home to visit him and go with him to the appointment. His doctor says he’s recovering perfectly.”

“I’m really glad.”

Brie bites her lip for a moment, and then her words start tumbling out fast. “So, um, yeah, I knew this was the same hospital Camille was at, but I wasn’t going to bother visiting, but then when I went to leave, I just couldn’t, so I asked around, and I found the coma ward, and I thought you might be here, and... yeah.”

She trails off and stares at her feet. I sift through my muddled thoughts, trying to pull out a proper response. But all I manage is, “Thank you.”

And as soon as it’s out, I know it’s the right thing to say. Thank you for coming. Thank you for caring. Thank you for not abandoning me.

Brie gestures to the bed beside me, abruptly changing the topic. “So. This is Camille?”

I nod and wave her over. Brie hesitates a moment, and then sets her purse down on the small table in the corner and sits in the chair next to mine. I watch her as she takes in Camille, waiting for horror or pity to wash over her expression.

But all that’s there is a protective sort of concern, and her voice is soft as she says, “Hey, Camille. My name’s Brie. I’m one of your sister’s friends.” She reaches out and gives Camille’s hand a small squeeze. “I’ve heard a lot about you, but I guess Lea wasn’t totally honest with me.”

I cringe and open my mouth to start frantically apologizing. But then Brie just says, “I mean, you’re even more gorgeous than she said you were. You’ll have to set Lea straight about that when you wake up. She needs to start giving you full credit for how pretty you are.”

I look down and pretend to focus on my laptop, hoping Brie doesn’t notice the tears building in my eyes. But if she does, she doesn’t acknowledge them. Brie just keeps talking to Camille, her voice gentle and soft, her words melding together into a soothing lullaby.

She tells my sister about how she met me at Harting, and about our Friday night pizza dinners, and how she’s tried to convince me I can be both nerdy and fashionable, but it hasn’t worked. It’s almost like Brie’s met my sister before, because everything she says is perfect, just the sort of gossip Camille would be lapping up if she was awake. I guess it’s just intuition that tells Brie the exact right thing to say. A mother’s intuition.

But when Brie mentions Bailey, she still calls him her brother. It’s almost like she doesn’t want Camille to know the truth, like she’s still protecting her secret. Like she really, honestly believes Camille might be hovering near consciousness, listening to her every word and gaining comfort from them.

Brie talks with Camille for almost ten minutes, and I keep working on my laptop, letting the campaign page distract me. The donation amount has risen to $19,000, and that number just keeps growing.

“I’m glad the campaign is working,” Brie says. It takes me a moment to realize she’s talking to me now, and not Camille. I glance up and find her turned toward me, her foot bouncing up and down in an anxious beat.

“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks. Um, I’m glad, too.”

Brie nods. An awkward silence takes over, and then she lets out a small, choked laugh.

“What?” I ask hesitantly.

“It’s just, I mean...” She trails off and shrugs. “It’s just that it’s easier to talk to your sister in a coma than it is to talk to you. And I never thought it’d be like that between us. And I sort of hate it.”

The pain in her voice makes me cringe. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I know that fixes nothing, but it’s true. I’m so, so sorry.”

She swallows hard and looks away. “I trusted you. Seth did, too. Hell,
everyone
at Harting trusted you.”

“I never meant to hurt any of you, Brie. I swear.”

“But you did!” She winces at the sharpness of her own tone, but her fist clenches as she turns to glare at me. “You
did
hurt us. You lied to us over and over and over again. I feel like someone’s punched me in the gut every time I think about what you did. And Seth?” Brie shakes her head. “He’s completely messed up. Not eating, not sleeping, totally bombing his classes. He’s almost as bad as he was when Parker first died.”

I bite my lip and force myself to meet her gaze. All I want is to look away, to hide from the accusation in her eyes, but I won’t let myself do it.

“What can I do to make him better?” I ask, my voice quiet. “I know it’s too late to ever make up for all my lies. But is there anything I can do to make him feel at least a little better? Or you?”

“Just stay away from Seth,” Brie says. “He needs space from you. Permanently.”

“I understand,” I murmur. And I do, even if the understanding comes with a ragged sort of grief that cuts into me with every breath, every heartbeat.

Brie lets out a long sigh. “And as for what you can do for me...” She looks over to Camille, and her expression gentles again. “Just keep her alive. Don’t let this all be for nothing.”

“I won’t.” And then I hesitantly ask, “Did you see the news about my mom?”

Brie gives a sharp nod. “I’m not sure if you handing over that evidence makes me want to forgive you, or hate you even more for not turning it in sooner.” She grits her teeth. “Hell, I’m not sure about any of this. I don’t even know why I came.”

“But I’m glad you did,” I murmur.

Brie nods and stands, taking a single step toward the door. “Look, I’ve got to go now. I told my parents I’d meet them downstairs at two.”

“Thanks for coming.” I wish I had something less lame to say, but that would mean spilling my emotions, and I’m not sure I deserve to do that with Brie.

She stares down at me, her blue eyes wide and conflicted. She looks young all of the sudden, young and exhausted and so, so sad. Then, before I even know what’s happening, she bends over and sweeps me into a hug.

“I really want to hate you right now,” she says, her voice choked. “And I think I kind of do. But I also kind of love you, so I don’t know what the hell that means.”

I finally get my arms to work and hug her back, squeezing her in a tight embrace. I never want to let her go, never want her to pull away. I just want her to stay here forever, right by my side, where she can talk to Camille and talk to me and make me believe everything might turn out okay.

“It means love is really complicated,” I finally manage to whisper.

She lets out a sharp laugh and then pulls away a little so she can look me in the eye. “I’ve always wanted a sister, you know.”

I nod toward Camille. “Would you be willing to share one?”

Brie’s gaze flickers over to Camille, and a small, hesitant smile edges at her lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I would be.”

She leans down and gives me one more hug, then pulls away and moves back to Camille’s side. Reaching out, she brushes her hand over my little sister’s. “Bye, Camille,” she murmurs. “Stay strong, sweetie.”

Brie heads for the door, hesitating when she reaches it. “Lea?”

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said. Stay away from Seth.”

“I will,” I say. “It’s the least I can do.” She doesn’t agree or disagree, so I clear my throat and ask, “Are you in San Diego for long?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m heading back to Harting tomorrow.”

I nod, not knowing what else to say. Brie looks between Camille and me, her gaze flicking back and forth.

“Seth will get it eventually,” she suddenly blurts out. “I mean, right now he’s really pissed at you. Beyond pissed, actually. But I think he would have done the same thing for Parker, and he knows it.”

“Thank you,” I murmur.

She shrugs. “Don’t thank me. Seth’s just good like that.” Brie bites at the inside of her cheek, her face crinkling with pain. “You just had to pick him to hurt, didn’t you?”

I cringe and stay silent, knowing I have absolutely no argument against that. Brie seems to realize how harsh she sounded, because she rubs at her temples and shakes her head.

“Sorry, that just popped out,” she mutters. “I’m tired. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, it’s true,” I say. “I hurt him, and believe me, I hate myself for it.”

Brie leans against the doorframe, half in and half out of the room. She lets out a tired sigh.

“A lot of people hate you right now, Lea. Don’t be one of them.” She nods to Camille. “If you really have to use up energy hating something, focus on hating the thought of Camille being hurt.”

She slips out the door then, not giving me a chance to think up a proper reply. So instead I just blurt out, “Why do you still believe me?”

She stops and turns around. “What do you mean?”

“You believe me that Camille moved, and you believe me when I say she’s going to wake up, and you believe that I can stop her from being taken off life support. Why? What did I ever do to earn your trust?”

Brie considers this for a long moment, staring down at her manicured nails as she slowly forms a response. “I shouldn’t trust you, and we both know that,” she says. “But you still asked me to trust you, and I think that’s why I do. Only a completely desperate person would ask for something that absurd.”

She shrugs. “Desperation might not be very elegant, but I think it’s usually pretty honest. So maybe it’s stupid to trust you, but I can’t help it.”

“Not everyone is like me,” I say quietly. “Not everyone lies. And you deserve to have friends who are more honest than me. I hope you know that.”

A wobbly smile lifts her lips. “More honesty would be nice. But I don’t think I want it from different friends.”

“Does that mean I can still call you?”

“Sisters can call each other any time.”

I swallow hard. “Thank you, Brie.”

She shrugs awkwardly, and then frowns at the clock on the wall. “I’ve really got to get going. I don’t want to keep my family waiting too long.”

“Say ‘hi’ to Bailey for me,” I say. “And tell him he’s brave for going to that appointment today. Almost as brave as his mom.”

Brie smiles at that, and it looks real this time, even though one of her tears finally breaks loose and trails down her cheek. She scrubs it away and offers me a quick wave, ducking out of the room and closing the door behind her softly.

I turn back to Camille and rest my hand on top of hers, right where Brie’s was just a minute ago. It’s still too frail and pale, but I swear it’s warmer than it’s been in months.

Chapter Forty-Five

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of muffled music playing. I blink and scrub sleep from my eyes, trying to focus my thoughts. Music. Bad rock music. Old, bad rock music drifting quietly from the stereo in the living room. So that means...

Jeremy.

I bolt upright in bed, throwing my covers off. My first instinct is to sprint down the hall and throw my arms around him in a hug. No matter how stupid he’s been acting, it’s still been way too long since I’ve seen him.