Haze (3 page)

By the time I reached the hospital, my jacket and jeans were soaked through with rain. I locked my bike and carried my helmet inside. I wanted to shake like a dog and get the water off as I passed between the two sets of glass doors that led to the lobby. I settled for wringing out my jacket.

At the information desk, a gray-haired lady with a volunteer pin on her sweater frowned at me. “Can I help you?” Her eyes flicked to the puddles forming by my feet.

“I'm looking for Jeremy Blackburn,” I said.

She pinched her lips and typed something into a computer, never once looking at the keys. “Are you family?” she finally asked.

“Uh, no. Close friend.”

“It's family only up in intensive care,” she said, and motioned to the next person in line.

I should have lied, but at least now I knew he was in intensive care. The floor plan posted on a wall near the elevators told me I needed to get to the seventh floor.

The elevator ride took forever. When the doors finally slid open on seven, Coach Gordon was there, waiting to get on. He stood with his hands in his pockets, staring into space.

“Coach!”

He blinked like someone waking up. “Bram.” He stepped back. “I'll catch the next one.”

I tripped over the gap on my way out. “Have you seen Jeremy? How is he?”

“They won't let me in. His parents are inside now.” He shook his head. “Terrible thing. But—what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the school?”

“It's lunch,” I said. But he was right. For something like this, signing out wasn't enough. I should have gotten permission from the headmaster.

Coach studied me for a moment. “It's all right. I'll cover for you,” he said. He led me down the hall to where there were some armchairs and a vending machine. “You're a good kid, coming here like this.”

I didn't want to hear what a good kid I was. I wanted to hear about Jeremy. “Did they tell you anything?”

Coach sighed and stared at the floor between his feet. “He hit his head pretty bad. There are some other injuries too. He won't be swimming again this year.”

“What does that mean, pretty bad?” I asked. Coach had taught a unit on first aid in gym class. Head injuries could kill.

He shook his head. “I'm repeating what the nurse said. And I tell you, I was lucky to get that much out of her.” He made a fist and punched it into his open hand. “If I ever get my hands on the bastard who did this…”

“What are you doing here?” It was a girl's voice. One I knew. One I hadn't heard in a long time.

I looked up to see Abby, Jeremy's younger sister. My ex.

chapter six

Abby looked good. That was the first thing that crossed my mind. At least I had the sense not to say it.

She wore a green plaid kilt and a sweater with the Wallingford Collegiate crest. She had cut her hair too, into something chin-length with lots of edges. It suited her. She still had lots of earrings. Three silver hoops in each ear, and a little cuff-thing at the top of her left one.

“Sorry about your brother,” I managed.

She nodded and walked over to the vending machine. She seemed to be having trouble getting the coins into the slot. Her hands shook. “Damn it!” Her quarters clattered across the tile floor. One rolled all the way to my shoe.

“Here.” I gathered up the coins and fed them into the machine, one by one. Her head hardly came up to my shoulder when she was standing beside me. Her perfume smelled like oranges. “What did you want?”

“Coke.” She ducked her head as I handed it to her. “Thanks.”

Coach looked from Abby to me and back again. “You two know each other?”

“This is Jeremy's sister, Abby,” I said. “Abby, this is—”

“I know.” Her voice was cold. I thought that was a bit weird, considering Coach had come here to see how her brother was doing. He obviously cared. It made me feel good about being on his team. She opened the Coke and drank half the can without looking at us.

“I'll…just be going, then,” Coach said. He put a hand on my shoulder. “You take it easy, all right? I'll see you back at the pool. And…if anyone hassles you, tell them I gave you permission to visit Jeremy.”

I nodded, and then he was gone.

Abby glared after him. “He's got nerve, coming here.”

“What are you talking about?” Her brother was hurt, but she didn't need to take it out on Coach.

She dropped into one of the armchairs. I heard the crackling sound of her soda can being squeezed. I lifted it out of her hands.

“I'm here with the Society for the Protection of Coke Cans,” I said. “Ma'am, were you aware that this is considered abusive behavior?”

“This is insane.” She made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and buried her head in her arms.

I sat on the arm of the chair beside hers and rubbed her back. “It'll be okay.”

When she looked up, her eyes were wet. “You're not supposed to say that. Don't you know? You can't promise.”

No, I couldn't. But that wasn't what she needed to hear. “I know your brother,” I said. “It's a safe bet.”

She sniffed and smiled. “Yeah.” She took a deep breath, then dug a wadded-up tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at her face. “Sorry for—”

I shook my head. “Don't say that. You don't have to be sorry for anything right now. It's in the rules.”

“There are rules for this?” She was sitting straighter now, looking more like the Abby I remembered.

I nodded seriously. “There's a whole manual. Didn't you read it?”

“Much like in English class, I am woefully unprepared.” She rolled her neck from side to side. “What did Coach tell you?”

“Not much. Jeremy hit his head.”

“His femurs are both broken,” Abby said. “He's going to be mad when he—if he—”

“When,” I said.

She nodded, twisting one of her hoop earrings. “There's bleeding in his brain, deep inside. They had to put in a drain. They're going to keep him sedated for a few days. And then, when he wakes up…well, we just have to wait.” She took a deep breath. “I should get back to Mom and Dad.”

I didn't know what to say. I didn't want her to leave. “Jeremy never said you went to Wallingford.” We had talked about home. Even about Abby, once or twice, but he had never mentioned that she was nearby.

She looked down. “I should go.”

“Can I see your phone?” I asked. She hesitated, then handed it to me. I programmed in my number. “Call me if there's anything I can do, okay?”

She nodded. She already seemed distracted and looked toward the ICU door.

“Abby?” I said. I waited until she looked at me. “Call me no matter what. Promise.”

She pocketed the phone. We stood there, looking at one another. It was time for her to leave, but she didn't. I thought maybe I understood. She wanted to go back into the ICU, but at the same time she didn't.

“Do you need anything?” I asked. “Do you want me to stay? I've got swim practice, but…well, if you needed anything…”

She shook her head.

“I'm sorry about the accident,” I said.

She stiffened, and her eyes narrowed. “It wasn't an accident.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard the doctor. Jeremy's injuries are high up. You know what that means? The car didn't brake. The bastard didn't even slow down.”

chapter seven

On Saturday afternoons, we practiced at the Yale pool. It was an Olympic-length pool, unlike the one at Strathmore. Droid and I usually biked there together. Today, though, I raced from the hospital to make it on time.

No chance for lunch. My hands shook. I was hungry and tired going into our last tryout session. But Coach would understand if I wasn't up to speed. Wouldn't he?

I was sweating as I changed into my swim gear. Last session. Last chance to make the team. I was a jerk for even thinking about that with Jeremy in the hospital, but I couldn't help it.

Droid glanced over at me, one eyebrow raised, as I joined the group on deck listening to Coach. Coach kept talking and didn't call me out. I let out a breath, relieved.

“Most of you have probably heard by now, Jeremy Blackburn is in the hospital,” Coach said. “I don't have any new information right now. We're all waiting for him to wake up. I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything. Jeremy's part of this team, and we're all rooting for him.”

A couple of the Sharks nodded.

“Today is our last practice together,” Coach continued. “I know that for those of you who don't make the cut, this will be a difficult time. My door's always open, all right? Now let's do this. For Jeremy.”

“For Jeremy,” everyone echoed—even the other pond scum, the ones who didn't know him well. I stepped back from the huddle, weirded out.

There wasn't time to think though. Coach set us to work. It was the toughest practice yet—all business, no hazing. Butterfly stroke until my shoulders burned. Red Cap was probably loving it. The Sharks left us alone, maybe because with Jeremy in the hospital it seemed wrong to pull stunts. We just swam.

I worked on my kick when Coach told me to, focusing on technique. Abs tight. Kick from the hip. Back and forth. Flip turn and back again. I wanted to work so I didn't have to think. My times were lousy. No surprise there.

Finally, it was over. Coach's whistle called us out of the water. My arms wobbled as I lifted myself out of the pool.

“Hey—pond scum,” Nate said, behind me.

I spun around and pulled off my goggles.

“Don't worry about it,” he said. “We all have off days.”

I nodded. I wasn't sure what to make of one of the Sharks being nice to me. Was I on the team? Did he know?

He followed me into the locker room. “Coach said you stopped by the hospital. That's cool, you know, that you did that.”

I headed for the showers. “Jeremy's a friend.”

Steven was waiting for me when I got back to the benches. “Did you hear anything else about the accident?” he asked. “Anything Coach isn't telling us?”

There was something strange about the way he said it. It made me wonder. He and Jeremy weren't exactly friendly, and he had looked pretty pissed off last night. Besides, Jeremy was the one swimmer who consistently edged Steven out of the big races. That had to bug him.

“You know as much as I do,” I said carefully. “I didn't get in to see him or anything. It's family only.”

He didn't ask me anything else. He just got dressed and headed out.

When I left the locker room, Nate was waiting outside. “Want a ride?” he asked. “Steven's got his wheels.” Steven stood beside him, face hidden behind dark sunglasses.

Steven drove a red BMW. Normally I would have given my right arm for the chance to ride in a car like that, but he wasn't exactly on my favorite-people list right now. And it was a bit odd, the way he had come up to me in the locker room. Besides, I had my bike.

But it was a chance to look at his car. If he had hit Jeremy, there would be scratches, or paint missing, or something. Wouldn't there? “Great,” I said.

When we reached the car, I made a big show of admiring it. I walked all the way around. There wasn't a scratch. Not on the bumper, not anywhere.

Nate leaned against the door, hands in his pockets, amused. Steven stood straight, arms crossed. Not amused. “Done inspecting my car, officer?” he asked.

I swallowed. After that, I couldn't pretend to suddenly remember that I had brought my bike. I would have to go back for it later. “Just haven't seen it up close before,” I said. “Sweet ride.” I crammed myself into the backseat. There was lots of room up front for Nate and Steven, but I was eating my kneecaps.

I wiped my palms on my jeans. “So. Tomorrow. Team list, huh?”

“You worried, pond scum?” Steven said, pulling out of the parking space.

Nate laughed. “Play nice,” he told Steven. “Seriously, you did great. Except for today. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say,” I said. “You guys had your turn three years ago.”

“Two,” Nate said. “I didn't make it the first time I tried out.”

That took a minute to process. Sure, Nate wasn't that fast, but I had assumed he joined with the rest of the Sharks. “You didn't—you weren't a swimmer your freshman year?” He hadn't even been on the team when Marcus died. So Nate, at least, had nothing to hide. Maybe he was somebody I could talk to—when Steven wasn't around.

Nate shook his head. “Nope. Speedo boy here was though.” He poked Steven's shoulder. In the rearview mirror, I watched Steven scowl.

“Yeah, I figured,” I said. I left it at that.

Nate chuckled. “Look, there's a few of us getting together at my place tonight. Parents are away. You in?”

I hesitated, remembering Jeremy's warning about the initiation party. “I haven't even made the team yet,” I said. Anyhow, I wasn't exactly in a party mood. Not with Jeremy in the hospital.

“This isn't initiation,” Nate said. “Just some guys hanging out.”

Steven seemed to be studying me in the rearview mirror. It was hard to tell, with those glasses of his. “Don't know,” I said.

“If you want to be part of the team, you have to act like it,” Steven said.

Nate nodded. “Life has to go on. Jeremy would have wanted it that way.”

They were talking like Jeremy was dead. It got my back up. I met Steven's gaze, as best I could. “I'm sure that's exactly what he'll say,” I said. “When he wakes up.”

chapter eight

It turned out Droid was going to the party and that most of the pond scum were invited. I was obviously paranoid. Jeremy's comments had rubbed off on me.

“Ask Coach,” Droid said, his head in the bathroom sink. He was re-dyeing his hair for the occasion. “He's signed permission for all of us. Thinks it's good for team spirit or something. Dude, you've got to come. There'll be girls. I've heard about Nate's parties.”