Determination (17 page)

“Thank God,” I murmured, mostly to myself.

“The hospital called the police, and I told them I didn’t know the person who shot me because I was so afraid that he would hurt you if the police cornered him. They came to see me so many times, I was sure they didn’t believe me. But then, the pizza guy found you and they got you to the hospital. When they told me that O’Dell was dead, I told them the whole story.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Hartley. He knows everybody, and someone called him when they heard about you and O’Dell.”

For several long minutes, neither of us spoke, and the silence between us hung like a wet blanket, heavy and thick. I wanted to tell him I loved him and ask him why he felt a million miles away.

The hospital room door opened then, and a man I didn’t recognize came in. The shirt and tie made me think that maybe he worked at the hospital. Hair covered only about a third of his shining, bald head, and he pushed wire-rimmed glasses back up on his nose as he read from a clipboard of paper in his hands.

“James, my name is Dr. Liskey,” he said as he strode to my bed. I looked over at Brian, who turned around to listen. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know; tired, I guess. My arms and legs are sore.” I didn’t know exactly what he wanted to know, so I left it at that. What I really wanted was for him to leave so Brian and I could talk. Scared, confused, and exhausted, I didn’t want things to go unsaid with Brian.

More than anything, I was worried he would leave. At some point, my behavior would push him too far, and I needed to know it hadn’t come to that. I tried to catch Brian’s eye, but he was watching the doctor.

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“That’s normal after a seizure,” the doctor commented and began to flip through the papers on his clipboard. My eyes snapped away from Brian and back to the doctor.

“I had a seizure?”

“Yes, you’ve had two since you were admitted. We’re trying different anticonvulsants to see which will work best. The warfarin in the rat poison has caused a seizure disorder within your brain. The condition is most likely permanent but may be at least partially controlled with medication.” He seemed to try to break the news gently, but it still took a minute before I could really breathe again. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. It felt like my brain had gone numb with the shock of it.

“We’re going to keep you here for a few days, at least, so we can monitor your progress. We’ll medicate you to help with the withdrawal, and I’ll be sending a social worker in to talk to you about a rapid detox and rehab program. Drugs will cause serious complications with the seizures and medications you’ll be on. You need to stop, or it will kill you.” He delivered the stern warning with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be back in to check on you tomorrow, but if you have any questions, the nurses can contact me.” I couldn’t reply, so I simply nodded as I stared at the ceiling, unable to process the idea that I would have seizures for the rest of my life.

Brian’s heavy, frustrated sigh burned in my ears, and with a huge effort, I rolled to face the wall. Terrified and alone, I found that I was too tired even to cry. I stared at the protective railing on the side of the bed and tried to figure out what I was going to do. No one would hire me if I fell over having fits all the time. I didn’t even think I’d be able to drive anymore.

The bed dipped behind me, and I felt Brian climb in with me.

Scooting as close to me as he could to fit in the tiny, cramped space, he slid his arm around my waist and pulled me back against his chest. His arm, still in the sling, pressed into my back. I wanted to take comfort in his arms, but I couldn’t, not if he didn’t love me anymore. The tears came then, and I didn’t try to stop them.

“Jamie, it’s going to be okay,” Brian whispered against my hair.

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“Is Steven dead?” I asked dully, unsure which answer would be better. Maybe if Steven knew I was defective, he’d leave me alone. I couldn’t process the idea that I’d taken someone’s life, no matter how reprehensible that life was.

“The pizza guy that delivered to your apartment heard you fall on the other side of the door. He got the manager to open up the door for what they called a ‘wellness check’. O’Dell was already dead, but you were just barely breathing, so he called an ambulance. The police…

well, they think that O’Dell just got a bad batch of coke.” Brian knew better, and it disgusted him. Even as upset as I was, I noticed that he hadn’t called me “baby” or “honey,” his fingers hadn’t rubbed against my chest, and he hadn’t kissed me once.

“I… I need to know,” I started but then faltered. God, I needed to know if he still loved me, but I was so scared of finding out the answer.

He moved back a fraction and pulled me so I lay on my back. His expression softened when he looked at me.

“Need to know what?” he asked, letting his hand rest on my chest. He didn’t touch my face or my hair, and it killed me inside.

“If you still love me,” I whispered. He hesitated and blew out a breath, which I felt against my face. I tried to roll back over so I couldn’t see him when he answered. I couldn’t take him looking me in the eye and telling me he didn’t. He held me firmly with the hand on my chest, and I was too tired to try to fight. I stared at the sling on his arm instead.

“I do love you, Jamie….” The unspoken “but” hung heavy in the air, and I waited for my heart to break. I looked up into his face and saw that his eyes were closed, like the pain of what he needed to say had overwhelmed him.

“But you don’t want to be with me,” I offered. His eyes opened, but his hesitation said everything. I nodded and silently wished he’d get out of my bed so I could go to pieces. It only made sense. Everyone else had left me. I was a lying, murdering, piece-of-crap drug addict whose own parents didn’t want him.

“I want to be with you, Jamie, but we need to take time to get stuff sorted out first. I don’t know how to help you with your addiction.

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You snuck out of our apartment to buy drugs, and you didn’t even talk to me about it. I thought you were handling the withdrawal. God damn it, I’d have given you the damn money, but you… you….” He buried his face in my neck, and I wrapped my arms around him. “I love you, Jamie, but I just can’t trust you right now. The doctors are going to help your body beat the addiction, and then we’re going to figure out how to get you into rehab.”

“But just as my friend…,” I said dully, and he pulled back to look at me.

“As your best friend,” he said quietly. “One day, you and I will look back, and we’ll talk about what’s happened between us. For right now, we’re going to look forward, okay?” I nodded and held him when he made no move to get out of bed or out of my arms.

I held onto him as long as I could because I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to do so again.

MIKE and Alex came to visit me the next day, relieving Brian to go home, shower, and change. I’d told Brian he didn’t have to stay with me, but the sentiment was halfhearted at best. If I were perfectly honest with myself, the thought of being alone terrified me. I thought maybe if he left one day, he’d never come back, and I would have no one.

I was sitting in a chair next to the bed because the nurses wanted to get me “up and moving,” claiming I’d feel better. Alex threw his arms around me and knelt next to the chair. He spoke quietly, as if he were visiting the deathbed of a loved one.

“I missed you so much.”

But I couldn’t muster up any emotion; everything had been drained out of me when Brian said he didn’t want to be with me. I pulled my feet up into the plush chair and wrapped my arms around my knees. Over the last few months, I’d lost so much weight that I fit easily. My head drooped, and my aching body felt worn out.

“I missed you too.” The response was automatic, mechanical. Part of me felt that way, but the overwhelming depression made me apathetic. Alex would leave, just like everyone else had, so it didn’t 110

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make any sense to get attached. The seizures, the drugs, or my appalling behavior would drive him away, and I couldn’t stand the thought of another rejection, especially not by Alex. Mike stood over by the window. I didn’t look up, but I could feel him watching us.

“How are you, baby?” Alex asked and put his hand on top of mine. That simple gesture, the pet name, all the things that Brian wouldn’t do anymore—they hurt so much.

“I’m okay,” I mumbled as I stared at the IV taped to my hand and wished they’d leave. The only thing I hated more than being alone was being with people, but I was so scared to be alone.

“Of course you’re not. You look like if someone touched you, you’d break into a million pieces,” he whispered and pushed a strand of hair back behind my ear. When I looked up and our eyes met, something inside me shattered. Almost imitating the duck-and-cover position we’d learned in school, I grabbed the back of my neck and slammed my forehead into my knees. I wanted to curl up tight enough into a ball that no one could hurt me again. Until Alex put his arms around me and held me still, I hadn’t realized that I was rocking in the chair.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “The doctor said I’ll keep having seizures. I don’t know how I’m going to pay for being in the hospital. They want me to go to rehab, but I can’t do that. I don’t have any money. I don’t have anything. I don’t even have a place to live once I leave here. Brian doesn’t want to be with me anymore. I can’t…

I can’t….” My breathing turned to shallow gasps, as if I were crying but with no tears. Mike came over then and knelt in front of my chair.

He took my face in his hands and forced me to look up.

“You have friends, Jamie, lots of them. We are going to help you because that’s what family does. Please, just worry about getting better and getting out of here,” he said quietly, and I just stared at him, shocked by his words.

“But… but you hate me,” I stuttered. I felt my face heating up from unshed tears as he took his hands from my face. The shock must have registered in my expression, because he started to justify his comfort.

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“Brian told me why you did what you did. For a long time, I thought you were just jerking him around. I didn’t believe, even after Alex tried to tell me, that you really did love him. The fact that you wanted to die rather than live without Brian, that you’d take that animal with you rather than risk letting him hurt Alex, made me realize that Alex was right. I’m sorry, Jamie. I know we got off to a bad start, but I admit when I’m wrong, and I’d like for us to be friends.” Mike smiled when Alex linked their fingers together and then kissed his hand.

“And I’ve never stopped being your friend, Jamie. I know we didn’t get to see much of each other after I moved into the boardinghouse, but I missed you. I missed our pizza nights with stupid romance movies. I missed sitting around the studio with you and making fun of the other models when they weren’t looking. Before Mike, you were the only one who ever wanted me to be myself. How could you think that I’d walk away from you when you need me?” Alex asked, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Thank you,” I whispered and hugged myself tighter as I noticed movement coming from the hall. Brian came in through the open door to my hospital room, followed closely by Richard and Carolyn.

“Look who I found wandering around the airport,” Brian said as Alex and Mike stood back out of the way. They looked a little sheepish, no doubt remembering their last encounter with Brian’s parents.

“Thank God they didn’t go to the boardinghouse.” Mike, Alex, and Brian all laughed, but Carolyn made her way to my side. I watched as her eyes swept over me and she shook her head.

“You’re so thin, sweetheart,” she said as Brian pulled over one of the visitor chairs so she could sit next to me. I couldn’t stand to wonder what she thought of me—drug addict, whore, and perpetual screwup.

She probably never wanted me to see Brian again. Instead, she surprised me by taking my hand in hers. She simply sat with me, letting me feel her concern through our joined hands. Richard put a hand on my shoulder and told me he wanted to go find out about my condition since technically he was still my family physician. After he left, the room went silent for a long time. None of us wanted to speak. No one seemed to want to address the elephants in the room: the addiction and the seizures.

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After about twenty minutes, Richard returned with a grim expression and sat on the bed.

“Your doctor said he explained about the seizures and about rehab,” Richard said solemnly. I just nodded as shame colored my face.

“I think he should come and stay with us,” Carolyn said and looked to her husband for confirmation that she did not receive.

“He needs to be in a facility where they can address his needs, Carolyn. I could’ve helped treat his addiction medically, but he needs support from someone trained in the psychological aspect of addiction.

If he doesn’t learn to deal with that, the medical part won’t be successful,” Richard told her, and after a moment, she nodded.

“I can’t afford any kind of rehab, Dr. Schreiber, so it doesn’t really matter anyway,” I told him honestly. “I don’t even know how I’m going to pay for the hospital stay.”

“Well,” Brian said as he rested his hand on his mother’s shoulder.

“I don’t think I told you, but when those guys put me in the hospital back in senior year, it happened inside the school. With the other stuff that had already happened, Dad said they failed to address the problem and sued them. They settled the lawsuit a couple of weeks ago, and after the legal fees and everything, he gave me twenty-five thousand from the settlement. That should at least take care of the rehab.”

“No,” Richard and I both said together. Brian seemed to know that I’d disagree, but he looked surprised by his father’s argument.

“That money is for you to do something with your future. We’ll find another way to help Jamie,” he told Brian sternly. Brian tried to argue, saying it was his money and he could do what he wanted, but Richard would not back down. I got the feeling once Brian had the cash in his possession he would do whatever he wanted with it, no matter what either of us said.