I'm Not Her (17 page)

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Authors: Janet Gurtler

BOOK: I'm Not Her
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chapter eighteen

Every
day the mailbox overflows with cards for Kristina. I didn’t know people even used snail mail that much anymore. Mom opens them and puts them on the mantel in the living room. I don’t think Kristina even looks at them.

Flowers arrive almost every other day too, and I think we have a year’s supply of chocolate, which horrifies Mom. She doesn’t like to have it in her house. I open a couple of boxes and sample some of the good stuff, but mostly they taste like pity and I can’t finish them. Eventually Dad starts taking unopened boxes to work.

Another week goes by at school and eventually my hood stays down on my shoulders and I stop avoiding everyone. Well, I continue to avoid Nick, but I’m pretty much used to the fact that he’s avoiding me too. I try not to think about the delicious horrible pity kiss.

At lunchtime, I eat with Jeremy and Clark. Clark still acts like a bodyguard and we’re spending so much time together I’d have to call him my new best friend. Jeremy and I have an understanding. We don’t talk about Kristina at lunch or the fact that he’s practically a fixture at my house after school. He’s Kristina’s friend first and I don’t want to interfere. I don’t ask him what they talk about.

He did tell me his mom is scheduled for reconstructive surgery in a few more weeks. He doesn’t even flinch talking to me about it.

Since Clark and Jeremy both have early birthdays, they have driver’s licenses, and Clark offers to drive me to school. I turn him down since I actually prefer to bike now. My calves have developed muscle tone. My hamstrings aren’t as scrawny. I can bike the whole way to school without getting winded. I know the weather won’t hold out forever but it’s unusually mild for late November, so I pedal on.

While my physical condition improves, Kristina’s deteriorates. She’s disappearing further and further into herself. The only person she spends time with is Jeremy. She’s weak and not feeling well most of the time, on heavy pain meds and antibiotics. I guess what energy she does have, she saves for Jeremy. Mom takes her to physio appointments twice a day, but tells me Kristina won’t push herself and doesn’t seem interested in learning how to use the specially designed prosthesis she’s been fitted for. She hasn’t started using her prosthetic leg at home.

Friday afternoon, when I walk down the hallway to class, I pass the water fountain where Gee and the volleyball girls hang out. They wave at me and I paste on my fake smile.

“How’s Tee?” Gee calls. The other girls study their nails or gaze into their BlackBerries or iPhones.

I shrug. “You know. Okay.”

Gee steps closer and lowers her voice so our conversation is private. “Man, I wish she would talk to me. She won’t answer my calls or emails or anything. My mom told me to be patient.”

I nod back. “She’s struggling,” I tell her. So am I.

“Yeah.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Devon slide up beside us. I flash my teeth in a smile again, for Kristina’s sake.

“Hey, Tessie. We’re having a party this weekend. At Cee’s. Some sophomores and a few freshmen are invited. You should come,” he says.

“Me? No. No.”

“Seriously. You should,” Gee adds. “It would be great. Almost like having Kristina around. You remind us of her.” She smiles and I wonder what the hell she could possibly see in me that reminds her of my sister.

“I heard there’s a certain guy who has the hots for you and he’s going to be there,” Gee says in a singsong voice.

The other girls around her giggle and nod. The popularity thing is trying to lure me in so I play along, pretending some guy is actually into me.

“You should come. I can drive you. I’ve been wanting to chat with you about something.” I turn around. It’s Nick. He’s grinning down at me like it hasn’t been weeks since we spoke. And he’s daring me to turn him down in front of everyone.

“Nick, don’t you dare lay a finger on this girl,” Gee tells him. “Or I will kick your butt.”

“It’s okay, Tess and I are friends, right?” He grins down at me and I frown slightly, wondering why he’s offering to drive me. “Besides, she seems pretty hooked on that Superman kid.” He winks.

“Superman is awesome,” Gee says. “You stay away from Nick. He’s bad news.” Gee flicks his shoulder with her fingers.

Nick grabs at his heart and takes my hand in his. “Me? I have nothing but deep respect for Tess. She’s safe with me. Tell them you’ll let me drive you, Tess. Redeem my bad reputation for me. Let me demonstrate that I am nothing but a gentleman.”

The girls start oohing and aahing and egging me on, telling me to come to the party, to get a ride with Nick, and let him walk the talk, show off his gentlemanly side. They all assure him if he lays a hand on me, they will beat him. I think of the kiss, and my cheeks turn pinker.

“Okay, fine, fine.” I can’t believe I’ve been peer pressured. Me!

“Good. I’ll pick you up at eight. I’ll get your address off the Internet.” Nick grins and spins around and walks away before I can give him an excuse, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.

Gee taps my arm. “Don’t worry, Tess, he’s not into freshman girls. For obvious reasons. He’s just being nice. But I’ll keep my eye on him. Kristina will kill him if he messes with you.” She pauses. “Well, I’ll kill him for her now.”

The mention of my sister takes away some of my excited buzz and I wave and head off to meet Clark and Jeremy for lunch, tempted to tell them I’ve been invited to the cool kids’ party. And I’m getting a ride with a senior. A boy. The first boy I’ve kissed. I want to ask their advice. If they think it’s a date or just a ride.

Of course, I keep it to myself.

After lunch, when we’re throwing out our trash, Clark asks what I’m doing on the weekend. For some reason, I lie and tell him nothing and hurry off to my next class alone.

chapter nineteen

On Friday, Mom asks me to be home from school early so she can go to her doctor. Jeremy is taking his mom somewhere and won’t be around until after dinner. I don’t know which doctor Mom is going to but suspect it’s her shrink. With her and Dad barely talking, and him still hiding at work, I’d go to a shrink too if I were her.

I peek into Kristina’s makeshift room to see if she wants to talk or anything but when I stick my head in the door, she’s lying down resting, so I leave her and head to the living room for mind-numbing television.

Halfway into a show about the red list of animals facing extinction, the front doorbell rings. I glance up from the TV, startled. No one comes to our house anymore except Jeremy and he’s not due for a couple hours. I drag my butt from the couch and when I open the door, my mouth drops open. Devon is standing there, holding a single red rose. His face looks blotchy and sweaty and I’m afraid he’ll faint right there on the porch.

“Yeah?” I say instead of hello.

“I’m here to see Kristina.” His voice shakes. He holds the flower higher as if I missed it or something. As if it’s his ticket to get inside.

“Uh, she’s sleeping.” I take the flower from him. “I can put this in a vase.”

“Tess,” he says. “Can you tell her I’m here? I’d really like to see her.”

I shift from foot to foot and look behind me inside the house.

“Please,” he says.

“I can’t make the decision for her,” I tell him, but I open the door and let him come inside and point to the living room. “Go sit in there. I’ll see if she’s up for a visitor.” I wave toward the sofa.

He takes off his shoes, and I leave him to walk down the hallway to Kristina’s room. I knock on the door but she doesn’t answer. When I push it open, she’s lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, awake. Her room is obviously temporary. There are no pictures on the wall, nothing to personalize it as her space. I want to grab some of her posters from upstairs, bring them down, and put them up for her.

“What?” she says without looking at me.

“Devon is here.” I hold up the flower.

She glances over. “What?”

“Devon. Is. Here.”

“What does he want?”

“He wants to talk to you.”

She doesn’t say anything, and I’m about to shut the door and go back and tell him she won’t see him when she speaks. “Okay, I’ll see him,” she says quietly. “Might as well get this over with. Can you ask him to come in here?”

I look over my shoulder, surprised. “You sure?”

She nods. “Can you help me sit up?”

I’m not supposed to help her. Mom told me the physio woman wants her to do things alone, but I go to the bed and take her arms, let her lean on me and help her prop herself up.

“Fluff out the covers around my leg, so it’s not so noticeable.”

I do as she asks, still holding the stupid flower in my hand.

“Okay,” she says. “He can come in.”

She looks tiny in the bed. Her face looks smaller without hair on it. There’s stubble sprouting from her scalp but it’s fuzzy and lighter in color. But even like that, even without a stitch of makeup on, she still manages to be more beautiful than anyone I know. I smile at her.

“You look pretty,” I say.

“Whatever, Tess.” She makes a face. “Can you just get him?”

I go back down the hallway through the kitchen, watching Devon unseen for a moment. He’s laughing at something on TV. I move and he hears me and looks up.

I walk closer, into the living room. “She’ll see you. You say something to hurt her feelings and I’ll kick your ass.”

His smile disappears as his expression changes to a more serious one and he nods at me as if he believes me. As if I really will kick his ass. He’s smart. I probably would.

He stands slowly and I flick my head, indicating for him to follow me, and we walk toward Kristina’s room.

When we reach it, I knock and then open the door, holding it while he goes inside. When it closes behind him, I stomp my feet up and down on the ground, pretending to walk away from the door, but stand still, listening.

“Hey, Tee,” he says softly.

Her answer is muted.

“You look good,” he says.

I hear her bitter laugh.

“No, I mean it. You’ll always look good to me. That doesn’t change.”

I want to hug him for saying that. It sounds sincere. Nice.

“So why can’t you look me in the eye?” Kristina’s voice is louder and clear.

Devon mumbles something. If he expected Kristina to make it easy for him, he’s getting a reality check.

“How are you feeling?” he says.

She laughs again and I miss her reply.

“I missed you,” he says softly. “I didn’t talk to you after…well…since that night at my house. When you missed school, I was worried it had something to do with me. Stupid, huh?”

“Yes,” she says. “Stupid.”

He doesn’t answer.

“I had other things to worry about. You know like getting chemo, losing my hair, and getting my leg chopped off.”

I barely recognize Kristina’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “That sounded selfish and stupid. Um, so, are you okay?” He sounds unsure and hurt.

“What do you think?” She clears her voice and laughs harshly. “If you’re worried that I expect something from you because we had sex, don’t worry. The only reason I did it was because I found out I had cancer and wanted to make sure I didn’t die a virgin.”

I wince a little on his behalf.

“That’s all it was?” Devon sounds upset.

“Weren’t you even a little suspicious about why I came running back to you? I mean, you didn’t even ask me if something was wrong. You just assumed that I couldn’t resist you.”

He mumbles something I don’t catch, then his voice gets louder. “I’m sorry, Kristina. I didn’t know. I was totally into you, I mean, I am, and I assumed we were getting back together. That you wanted to.”

“It’s okay, Devon. You don’t have to pretend you’re into me. We broke up because I wouldn’t hook up and just because we did doesn’t mean we got back together. You didn’t even know me. Or try to. Me. Not the perfect Kristina everyone wanted me to be. And trust me, I’m even less perfect than I was before.”

“You’re still you,” Devon says softly. “And I still care about you.”

“Well, don’t, okay. I mean not more than friends. I never thought we were getting back together. I’m sorry the way I used you. That sucked. But it doesn’t mean you have to pretend to want to be my boyfriend.”

Devon doesn’t say anything.

Kristina laughs again, but it has some spirit in it; it isn’t as bitter. “Don’t look so guilty, okay? We broke up before all this. So it’s not like you’re some jerk dumping me after I got my leg cut off. What happened was a mistake. Nobody has to know. And, well, I’m kind of interested in someone else now.”

“You are?” Devon sounds as surprised as I feel.

“Yeah, I am.”

She is? Jeremy?

“Um, okay.” Devon sounds numb. “So, uh, can we still be friends? I care about you, you know.”

That’s my cue to sneak down the hallway and give them privacy. I have no idea whether he’s okay being let off the hook or if he’s genuinely hurt and is covering up. Either way, I respect that he came to see her, to deal and make sure she’s okay. I find a vase in the kitchen cupboard, fill it with water, and stick in the flower. I put the vase on the counter and return to the living room.

After he leaves, I can hear Kristina’s sobs from where I sit. It’s loud and heartbreaking. I want to go to her but don’t know what to say, so I sit with the walls between us, chewing on my thumbnail, wishing I could do something to make things better.

When six thirty comes and goes and Jeremy still hasn’t rung on the doorbell, I hear Kristina shuffling about in the room. She’s making a lot of noise and I guess it means she’s got her crutches out and is moving around.

“Tess!” she yells.

“What?” I call, trying not to sound worried.

“Where’s Mom?”

“She texted to say she went shopping with a friend after her doctor’s appointment.” Her friend the credit card.

Kristina doesn’t bother to ask about Dad. Both of us know he won’t be home from work for hours. We don’t talk about how much we miss him. Or I do. I wonder if she does too.

“Shoot.” Her door opens and she limps through the hallway and kitchen toward the living room. Her gait looks better than it did last time I saw her walking with the crutches.

I pick up the remote and turn the TV off. “You want some food?” I ask. “Mom left some chicken casserole thingy to heat in the microwave.”

“No.” She hobbles into the living room. “Jeremy is never late. And he hasn’t called or texted me.”

“He probably just had something to do,” I say. I don’t tell her but I’ve been wondering where he is too. He never leaves Kristina waiting.

She hops over and sets herself down on the couch beside me. She’s wearing a pair of shorts. I try not to stare at the stump that’s right beside my leg. It makes my stomach weak.

She grabs the remote from my hand and flicks the TV back on. “You still watch the Discovery Channel?” she asks.

I make a face at her but I’m not insulted. It’s kind of nice to have her make fun of me. Like she used to. I want to go and get ready for the party, which is an occasion in itself, but don’t want to leave her, and kind of dread telling her about being invited to a party with her friends. As if I’m trying to take her place. If stupid Jeremy were on time, I wouldn’t have to even explain, because she wouldn’t care where I was going.

“I wish Jeremy would get here already,” she says.

I silently agree.

Another half hour goes by and we quietly stare at the dude on
Man vs. Wild
being dropped in some swamp, supposedly all alone with his cameraman. We watch as he wrestles an alligator but I keep an eye on the clock, expecting Jeremy to knock on the door. When it’s ten past seven, my annoyance turns to worry. He just doesn’t seem like the type to do this.

The phone rings, and both of us jump. I rush to go answer it, easily beating Kristina before she can even make a move for her crutches.

“Hello?” I say, waiting for Jeremy’s apologetic voice on the other end, prepared to give him some grief for worrying Kristina.

“Kristina?” a voice asks. It’s a woman.

I hear her sob.

“What?” My heart pounds and I turn so Kristina can’t see my face. “No, uh, this is Tess.” In the background, the Discovery Channel commercial plays.

“Tess?” The woman cries harder into my ear.

The commercial is a happy song. Boom de yada, boom de yada.

“Kristina’s sister,” I tell her and sweat seeps out of my underarms. The crying makes me queasy. “What’s wrong?”

I don’t want to know.

“It’s Jeremy,” she sputters. She takes a deep breath. “There’s been an accident, he’s been in an accident.” Her voice builds in hysterics and she chokes on her own sobs. “He died. Oh my God! My baby is dead.”

“What?” I keep my back turned to the couch. “I’m so sorry,” I manage to mumble through my shock.

She cries harder and starts to ramble. “He dropped me off at home. He said he was on his way to see Kristina. But a few minutes ago, I got a call. There was a car accident. He didn’t make it. Oh God! I thought he was safe at her house. But he died.” She wails again. “Please tell your sister.” She chokes and swallows. “I know they’re close. They were close. Oh God! I can’t talk now. Please tell her I’ll call later.” The phone clicks and the dial tone hums in my ear. In slow motion, I place the phone back on the charger, trying to catch my breath.

I turn. “No,” Kristina groans. She’s shaking her head back and forth, not looking at me. “No,” she repeats. She puts her hands over her ears, still shaking her head from side to side. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

“Jeremy…” I say. I flick my hand up and accidently catch the glass vase Kristina’s flowers are in. It clangs to the floor and shatters on the tile.

“NO!” she screams. She pushes herself up and then abruptly loses her balance and crashes to the floor. I race back into the living room, almost slipping in the spilled water.

She screams hysterically and I rush to her side. “Are you okay?” I yell. When she doesn’t answer I flop down on the floor beside her and wrap my arms around her body. It shocks me how thin she is. Bones jut out everywhere, poking into my skin, but I hold on tight. After a while, I pull her so she’s sitting up, and she practically crawls right inside my lap. I keep my arms around her and rock.

“What happened?” she moans.

“There was a car accident, Krissie. I’m so sorry.”

She wails harder, sobbing so violently I’m afraid she’s going to break. “He’s dead?”

I hold her tight and rock her and stroke her hair. “You’re going to be okay,” I whisper over and over. “You’re going to be okay. Jeremy would want you to be strong. For him, Kristina.” I murmur the same words over and over. There’s nothing we can do for Jeremy now.

Kristina holds on and her body purges itself of tears. I cry with her. For Jeremy. For her cancer. For her lost leg.

I keep chanting. Over and over.

***

Kristina is curled up in a ball on the couch, finally asleep. I rummaged around in Mom’s medicine cabinet for something to give her and found some sleeping pills. So much for au naturel Mommy.

Kristina didn’t resist the pill but refused to go to her room, wanting me to sit with her on the couch while she faded in and out, looking close to death herself.

When she’s sleeping, I go to the kitchen, clean up the mess the broken vase made, then pick up the phone to call Nick. It rings once and goes straight to voice mail.

“I can’t make the party tonight,” I say in a tight voice. “Don’t come to my house, okay?” I hang up abruptly, wishing I’d said something more.

I dial Mom’s cell number for the fifth time in the last half hour, but her voice mail is picking up too, and like me, I suspect, she’s forgotten to turn her cell phone on. In desperation, I dial Dad’s number, expecting he’s got his head in the books and his voice mail will pick up, but a laughing female voice answers, taking me by surprise.

“Hello? Mr. Smith’s phone,” the woman says. Her voice is low and all sexy.

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