Changing Fate (11 page)

I hold her close a
nd let her tears land on my shoulder. “I’m lucky to have you.”

She backs away and wipes her face with a tissue. “I’m sorry.” We sit there for a minute more while the silence eases the tension. Mom grabs a DVD and sticks it in the machine. “Let’s check out those mad skills.”

I laugh. “Mine or yours?”

She doesn’t answer, just settles on the couch with a light blue hospital blanket. As long as I stare at the screen, I can imagine I’m back at home. No tubes, no monitors, no IVs. Just me and my mom watching a show and enjoying a night together.

The next afternoon, I get a new visitor. Giana walks in the door as my nurse is leaving.

“Wash your hands, please, and don’t get too close,” Ember says.

Giana
washes her hands for a good minute, soaping twice, then sits on the edge of the couch, near me. “I’m sorry, I would’ve come sooner, but they wouldn’t let me. How do you feel?”

I can’t help laughing. It’s like the number one conversation starter and also the worst thing to ask someone with multiple tubes in their body. “Crappy.” No, I’m not going to lie.

Giana presses her lips together and relaxes into the couch.

“Have you had any luck with donations for the CF walk?” I ask.

She shakes her head and pauses with a mysterious curve to her lips. “No, but guess what? Mo kissed me last night.”

My jaw drops. I snap it shut and say, “Spill.”

“Well…he came over for
homework
.”

I laugh. “Yeah right.”

“We really did do homework. But afterwards, I walked him out to his car and he leaned in for a kiss. I just couldn’t leave him hangin’.” Her eyes light up and her lips are curved into a huge smile.

“Right. You two probably made out.”

She giggles. “No. It was just a few kisses.”

I lift an eyebrow.

“I’m serious. And I would’ve told you last night,” she says. “But you never answer your phone.”

I raise my empty hands. “It’s not allowed. Mom won’t let me have a phone in the hospital anyway. She says it takes away from rest time. If she were here long enough, she’d realize that the nurses do a good enough job of that already.”

“How are your lungs?” Giana asks.

I shrug. “This morning they were a little better. I still can’t get up much, but they want me to start physical therapy soon.”

“Is that possible?”             

“Only after my fluid levels go down. Right now, I’m connected to the building.” I point to the tubes running from me to the wall.

Giana shifts in her seat and clears her throat. “I brought you some magazines.”

I’m reluctant to celebrate the fact. “Please don’t tell me they’re for teens.”

She reaches in her bag and pulls out a stack of tattered magazines. “Nope. I found these old European architecture magazines online.”

“Did they cost you a fortune?”

Giana shakes her head. “Actually, someone was getting rid of them for free.”

“Seriously, how do you
find
these things?”

She sets them next to my karate DVDs and st
ands near the bed. “Have you talked to Kyler?” she asks.

Kyler. Of course she had to bring him up. I
’ve been thinking about him nonstop until she walked in the door. “No. He still doesn’t know either.”

“Do you want him to?”

I clench my fists. “Yes. I mean, I was going to tell him…but this all happened.”

“You know
, you do have a
hospital
phone.”

My shoulders slump forward. “I know, but I can’t
tell him over the phone. I’ve ran it through my head several times and it just wouldn’t be the same.”

Giana folds her arms. “Well, I guess that’s true.” After a few seconds, she snaps her fingers. “Listen, I gotta run but I’ll come visit you again when I can.”

“You’re leaving already?”

Her lips pull down in a frown. “I’m sorry. My mom wants me home to help with dinner. I told her you’re here
but she didn’t want to know any details.”

“Still having a hard time with it all?” I ask.

“You have no idea. I promise to come back before you get released.” She waves goodbye and walks out.

The second Giana’s gone, I realize how much I’ve missed having her around. Not just her, but everyone. Even though I don’t have a lot of friends, there’s something comforting about knowing Mo will be next to Giana, Max will be in my face, Vivian will be…well, Vivian with Charlie, and Kyler will be—

What will Kyler be? Hanging out with his choir buddies? Singing melodies to someone else? It kills me that I haven’t heard from him. Does he even miss me? I know what Mom would say. If he doesn’t stick around, he wasn’t worth my time in the first place. Yada-yada-yada…

But
Kyler
isn’t
like my dad. At least, I hope he isn’t. 

I don’t have to wait long to find out. When I wake from my afternoon nap the next day, Kyler’s leaning against the wall near my door. His knee is bent with his foot flat on the wall and a bouquet of flowers hang
ing from his fist.

I sit up and rub my eyes to make sure he’s really there. My gown falls off one shoulder and I hurry to pull it back up. My neck grows hot and I clear my throat. “Hi.”

Kyler’s foot thumps to the floor and he steps closer. “Hi.”

“You’re here.”

He lifts the flowers. “I’m here.”

The echo response has to stop. “How did you find me?”

He shrugs. “Giana.”

She did seem a little excited to leave yesterday. Maybe this was her big plan. Well, it’s definitely making me cross the bridge I was stuck on. “Do you want to sit down?” And look at the tubes, and see my fluids, and listen to me cough? I
t’s like I’m asking him to enjoy a nice stay in a torture chamber.

He sits and leans forward. “Why didn’t you tell me you were this sick?” He rubs a hand over his forehead and closes his eyes. “I mean, you just left class and never came back. Then I found out you went home. I couldn’t even get a hold of you. Then Giana tells me days later that you’re in the hospital?”

I swallow and blink. Then swallow and blink again. Where to start? “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was going to.”

He looks up and his jaw twitches. “You planned on telling me you were sick enough to go to the hospital?”

The rough tone in his voice weakens my courage. “No, Kyler.” He drops his hands. “I was planning on telling you about my lifelong disease.”

He flinches. “Wait, what? Giana didn’t say anything about—
”

“O
f course she didn’t. Because it’s my secret to tell.” My throat goes dry and I cough. “I have cystic fibrosis.”

His face falls and I can see our connection dying. This is it. Kyler isn’t going to want me anymore. He’s going to get up and tell me that he can’t handle something like that right now. His mouth opens and he says, “Why does that sound so familiar?”

I try to calm my racing heart enough to focus on his question. “Because. Giana’s been spreading awareness for the last week.”

“You have that same disease?”

I nod. “That’s why I cough. That’s why I get sick. And
that’s
why I’m in the hospital.”

“But are you okay?”

I lift an eyebrow and my hands wave around the room. “I guess you can call this okay. I’m alive.”

“So you’re not dying?” His voice is hopeful, beautiful.

My arms tingle and I smile. “I’m not planning on it. At least not yet.” Not that I ever plan on it, but eventually it will happen. Kyler sighs and sinks into the couch while I think of something else to talk about. “How’s school?” I ask.

He gives a slight chuckle. “You’ve missed some weird stuff in psychology.”

“Not really. My mom brings me my schoolwork.”

He looks at me. “I’m not sure
about all those complexes.”

I shrug. “Then don’t
worry about them. It’s only a basic overview of disproved theories. Just because something’s backed by studies doesn’t mean it will always happen. It only takes one person to bring about change.” I think of Giana and her efforts in finding a cure for CFers. She probably won’t find one, but because she’s spreading awareness, Kyler already knows a few things about the disease. Every little bit helps.

Silence falls between us and I focus on the steady hum from my equipment. What else should I say to Kyler? It’s hard to think
about anything but my disease when the whole room’s filled with evidence of its destruction.

Kyler bumps the remote and my ten-year-old self pops up on the screen, chopping a piece of wood in two with my hand.

“Whoa,” Kyler says. He looks at me then back at the screen. “Is that you?”

“Yes.”

He turns to me with a smug look. “You like to sit around and watch how good you are, don’t you?”

I laugh. “Maybe.”

“Dang. You’re good
and
conceited. No wonder Charlie’s afraid of you.”

Charlie. He thinks I’m just like Vivian. I don’t want people to be afraid of me, but I may never get a chance to show him that I’m not really like that. Everything in my life revolves around my sicknesses. It’s always about me. I don’t want to be this way.

I glance at the screen. My ten-year-old self does a roundhouse kick and it triggers a cough attack. Mom’s at my side, her face hard and her hand on my back. She gets me a drink and pushes me to try again. She shows me the way it’s done and I follow.

“Is that your mom?” Kyler asks.

“Yeah.”

He looks away from the screen and his gaze roams over my face. “Remind me not to get on her bad side.” His words float in my ear and I swallow the sudden knot in my throat. We stare at each other and the room grows small. I breathe in and he breathes out. We’re close but still too far away. I want to reach out and touch him but I’m not sure if I should. He just holds my gaze.

I wish I knew what’s going through his head. Is he scared of the real me or is he okay with it? What’s he thinking?

“Kate.” His voice is soft.

My knees tremble and I almost forget that I’m in the hospital. The way he says my name takes me far away: to a moonlit night, or walking across a bridge hand in hand. That’s where we should be. Not here in this germ-infested building.

I curse the tubes and focus on Kyler. He gives me hope of somewhere special and that’s exactly what I need. I need to know that there’s something worth living for. That if I ever get out of this place, there will be people at my side—people like my mom and Giana. And maybe even Kyler.

He gets up and inches toward the bed. His mouth lifts on one side and he laughs. “When you get out of here, you’ll have to teach me to fight like your mom.”

“What?” I’m so shocked, I lose track of my thoughts. “You don’t want to learn to fight like me? Am I not good enough?”

“Oh, you’re good enough. But if I’m going to beat you, I have to be better.”

I’m laughing and coughing and practically blowing snot all over the place. I grab a tissue and bury my face to hide the grossness. But I can’t stop laughing.

I feel a hand on my foot and Kyler says, “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I snort back another laugh and it brings on more giggles. He thinks I’m crying. If I don’t stop, I
will
be crying. Happy tears. Somehow I manage to lift my face.

Kyler looks confused.

I rub my nose. “How about I’ll teach you how to fight like my mom if you teach me how to sing like your dad?”

Kyler finally sees that I’m still laughing. He joins in and holds my foot tighter. “My dad can’t even sing.”

I shrug and gain some control over my giggles. The air between us grows still and his tense expression is back. A thought crosses my mind and races out my mouth. “I’ll teach you to fight like my mom if you teach me to sing like yours did.”

The laughter is gone now. I hope I didn’t say the wrong thing. Kyler’s eyes are on me but they’re distant. I
bite my lip and wait for him to respond.

He wiggles my foot and clears his throat. “I better go. I’ll be back tomorrow though.”

“Really?”

He smiles. “I gotta start learning those skills sometime.” He points to the stack of DVDs. “Looks like you’ve had the best lessons in town.”

He lets go of my foot and it feels cold. “Thanks for coming by, Kyler.”

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he whispers. I barely hear him but his comment hits me with a blast of guilt.

“I know,” I say softly. “But thanks for understanding.”

He folds his arms and pierces me with his gaze. “Sometimes it only takes one person who understands to make a difference. Everyone knows about my mom, but no one really knew the right things to say. What I needed was for someone to say nothing—to be themselves around me because I’m me. My mom’s death made everyone act different, but you didn’t know about it. And even after I told you, you treated me the same. If anyone should be thankful, it’s me.”

He pauses for a deep breath. I hold still, cherishing this moment before it’s even over.

“I wish I could teach you to sing like my mom, but her voice was like an angel’s. And as much as I’d like to hear her again, I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.”

I open my mouth to respond, but Kyler’s already on his way out the door. Before leaving, he gives me one last grin and a small wave of his hand. I hold onto his words and feel better than I have since I entered the hospital. Kyler made me feel like I was living, breathing on my own, released from this glorified prison to a happier place.