Chapter Sixteen Sera
Chapter Sixteen
Sera
Today’s the annual blood drive over at Northport Hospital that our family and the Tisdales always help organize. As usual, we’re running late. I throw on my volunteer T-shirt and a pair of shorts, then quickly brush my hair and put it up into a ponytail.
“Do you have all the snacks in the car?” Mom shouts up the stairs as I dig my phone out from under the blankets I kicked off the bed last night.
“Yes!” I reply, taking my charger with me.
My phone always dies halfway through the blood drive, and this year I’m going to be prepared.
I head down to the kitchen and beeline for the pantry to make sure I really did put all the snacks in the car earlier.
I find two boxes of apple juice I’d forgotten.
Maddy’s bringing cookies before her shift, and Dockside sends pizzas, but we bought everything else with donations from the year before.
I tie my sneakers quickly and run out to Abbi’s car.
“Do we have time for coffee?” she asks, yawning. She turns on some music—a rock band I’ve never heard before.
“I don’t think so,” I say, buckling and pulling my phone out to fiddle with the response I’ve been trying to send Luke since Thursday night.
He texted me asking to meet up and talk after our boat day ended abruptly, and I haven’t responded yet.
I should’ve replied yes right away. Waiting has only made it worse.
I still don’t know what exactly to say when we do talk.
Thanks for opening up to me, I know it was my turn to explain why I fell off the face of the earth, but it’s so embarrassing to admit that I was falling for you and that I was crushed to find you making out with a girl you still make out with but say you’re not dating?
Oh, also I was in heart failure, but I’m fine now.
Too wordy. I try not to think about it. Instead, I send Iris a picture of my first finished application piece.
I’m really thrilled with it. The watercolors make the image of my eight-year-old face a little ethereal.
She looks invincible. I set it as my lock screen, a good reminder for what today is about.
“I’m stopping at Dunkin’,” Abbi says. “There’s one right by the hospital, right?”
“Sure, but Mom organized coffee and breakfast for the volunteers.” I turn the music down; it’s giving me a headache.
“We’ll be there on time…ish…don’t worry.” Abbi yawns again and turns the music back up. I shake my head. We won’t, but that’s fine. There’s less of a chance of having an uncomfortable encounter with Luke if things are already underway when we arrive.
The blood drive is in a big parking lot next to the hospital. All the volunteers, medical staff and regular people like us, have finished setup by the time Abbi and I pull in at just past eight.
We off-load all the snacks into the tent where people are monitored after they donate.
Then I head to the check-in table, where I’m scheduled from eight thirty until noon.
Paula is there, but I haven’t seen Luke, thank god.
I wonder if I can avoid him all day. His name was on the blood draw tent schedule for the morning, so he’ll be helping the nurses distribute snacks and juice boxes to the people giving blood.
We switch shifts in the afternoon. Simply two ships passing in the night, or the day, whatever.
I unbox the flyers on donating blood and find the paperwork for anyone who wants to register as an organ or marrow donor.
Paula and Mom are going to be helping with swab kits for those folks, while I’m the face of convincing them to do it.
I play with my EBE bracelet and the medical alert ID on my watch while I practice my script in my head. Even though I wasn’t here last summer, my speech comes back easily.
I’m only here today because Edith Eichman’s parents knew that their daughter’s organs could save a lot of lives.
Over one hundred thousand people are waiting for an organ donation right now, and only three out of every one thousand registered donors end up being viable as donors.
The more people registered, the better chance someone waiting will be helped.
I know the statistics aren’t uplifting, but I’ve always found the combo of personal and specific makes more people willing to sign up. They’re already here; they already want to help.
People start showing up before nine, and while it’s never slammed, it’s busy.
I’m grateful for the caffeine pit stop Abbi and I made.
My shift involves signing people in, sending them to the waiting area with info on organ donation to read, selling raffle tickets, and giving stickers to kids.
I end up directing quite a few people over to Paula and Mom to get swabbed.
It’s turning into a really great day, even if my little headache from the morning won’t go away.
The number of people willing to come out and help others always lifts my spirits.
This year, though, it’s also reminding me how complicated it will be to get a new heart when I need one in the next few years. Finding a match is rare.
Just as the clock is winding down to my shift change, I look up at the next person in line and…it’s Jackson.
“Hey,” he says with his wide bright smile. “I hear this is where we can come to do some good today.”
“Yeah.” I can’t help but smile back. We haven’t made plans to meet up since he came back from Nantucket yesterday. I’ve been busy. Or confused. But I did tell him to stop by if he wanted to. “Thanks for coming. Have you donated before?”
He nods. “At school this past semester.”
“Great.” I hand him a clipboard with the paperwork he’ll need to fill out and launch into my spiel.
“Right now, there’s about a ten-minute wait before a nurse will see you.
While you’re waiting, if you’d like to register as an organ or marrow donor, we can help you with that really quick over there.
” I point to Mom and Paula. “And we also have some raffle tickets for sale.” I pile the small stack of paperwork and pamphlets I give to each person while Jackson scrawls down his information.
The day has really heated up, and I’m sweating beneath the white tent.
I hope I don’t look too shiny. I pull at my T-shirt to get a little air across my stomach.
“Cool.” He hands back the clipboard and I check to make sure it’s all filled out. “I’m actually already a registered donor, but how much are raffle tickets?”
“Twenty each.” I start looking for the ticket roll.
“I’ll grab a few. And then, what are you doing for lunch? Do you get a break?”
“Um, sort of, not really. We have food here. I’m helping in the donation tent starting, well, ten minutes ago.” I’m still looking for the big red roll of raffle tickets, which for some reason isn’t where I left it last. “Have you seen the tickets?”
I turn to ask the volunteer who’s been with me all morning and find Luke instead. He’s holding out the roll of tickets, his face oddly expressionless. “Looking for this?”
“Yeah.” I take it and turn back to Jackson. “Sorry, how many?”
Jackson pulls out a sleek brown leather wallet with his initials stamped on it and unfolds a wad of cash, peeling off a few hundred-dollar bills.
“Let’s do twenty-five.”
“Wow…thank you,” I say, feeling my eyes go wide. “That’s really generous.” I unroll the tickets and rip off a long strip, then hand Jackson his half.
“Happy to help,” Jackson says, running a hand through his golden hair, which somehow falls right back into place. “So, can you hang later? I thought of some new places in Paris to tell you about.”
“She’s not one of the raffle prizes,” Luke snaps, then turns to me. “And you’re late. They need you back there.” He steps around behind me, hovering a little too close, and starts straightening the clipboards even though they’re fine.
“I know,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. Then I turn to Jackson. “I can’t today. We’re slammed here, but maybe tomorrow?”
“Yeah, that’d be great. I’ll pick you up, we can go to the resort in Chatham, take the boat out after.”
“Sounds good,” I say as I crouch down for my bag and find my water bottle.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you back there,” Jackson says to me. He gives a nod to Luke, who doesn’t return it, then heads over to the waiting area.
“Suck-up,” Luke mutters under his breath.
“Sorry, what?” I ask, sure I’ve heard him wrong.
“Nothing, never mind. Where are the extra pens?”
I push the jar over to him.
“Right here. Did you eat? Are you hangry or something? That was so rude. He just donated a ton of money,” I say.
“You don’t need to act like my mom, Sera. I’m fine.”
“Well, you’re acting like a child, so…” I say, standing there waiting to see if he’ll apologize for being an ass. When he doesn’t, I leave the tent, running into Abbi, who is walking around making sure everyone has water.
“You okay?” Abbi asks, looking over my shoulder toward Luke.
“Yup,” I say, exasperated.
“I though you two were, like, buddy-buddy again.”
“Apparently not.”
“Do you need a mediator?”
“God, no. Thank you, but please butt out.”
“Don’t get snippy with me,” she says, handing me a bottle of water.
“I have a water.” I hold up my refillable and go to take a sip, but it’s empty. I guess I haven’t had enough, which is probably why I’m feeling so crappy. I take the one Abbi is still holding out, muttering a thanks.
“You two need to hash it out sooner rather than later,” she adds.
“Hash what out?” I ask after chugging the whole bottle and taking a second from her.
Abbi just looks at me, eyebrows raised over her sunglasses, like I’m supposed to know exactly what she’s talking about. And of course I do. But I don’t feel like dealing with it right now.
“Thanks for the water,” I say, emphasizing that that’s the only thing that’s been helpful in the last thirty seconds.
In the donation tent it’s even busier, but it’s at least air-conditioned.
Everyone donating is relaxing back on their cots.
The nurses move among them, checking in and bandaging everyone’s arms when they’re done.
Jackson is hooked up to a blood bag already, looking more relaxed than the older woman next to him.
He cracks jokes with her, clearly trying to make her feel more comfortable as the nurse withdraws the needle from her arm.
I come over with some of Maddy’s cookies.
The woman swoons over a story he’s telling about his old gig as a lifeguard.
I stuff a cookie in my mouth when I pop back to the snack table for more supplies, finally feeling a little more awake.
Suddenly one of the nurses rushes past me.
I whirl around. The woman next to Jackson must have stood up too quickly and passed out.
The nurse has barely finished wrapping the bright blue tape around Jackson’s arm to keep the cotton in place when he gets up to kneel next to the woman.
I join him, sticking a straw in a juice box so it’s ready.
“You’re all right,” he says as she blinks her eyes open. “Feels awful, doesn’t it? I passed out from heatstroke last summer. You’re going to be fine.”
When she’s ready to stand, we help her over to the seating area. Once we make sure she’s okay, I head back to the snack table. But I’m intercepted by Luke.
“Why is he still here? He’s not a volunteer. Did he survive some kind of rare medical condition too? Was it his hair? Did it use to be brown?”
“Drop it,” I say under my breath.
He follows me as I go around the side of the tent and back to the sinks by the restrooms to wash my hands.
“He’s not a registered volunteer. We could get in trouble.”
“We can use the help, Luke. Don’t be an asshole. If Izzy showed up to help, you’d be delighted.”
“What does Izzy have to do with it?” he asks.
“Nothing. Just, it’s nice to have him here—he’s got first aid training, he cares, that’s cool of him,” I say, pumping soap onto my hands.
“Whatever you say,” Luke says, rolling his eyes.
“What’s your deal?”
“Nothing, just didn’t know you guys were so close.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“You told him about Paris,” he says.
“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know,” he says, frustrated. “I feel like I have to pry information out of you, but you’re just, like, sharing everything with some random dude.”
My anger builds. “Jackson isn’t random.”
Luke scoffs. “Sure. Do you even really like him?”
I toss my paper towel into the trash a little aggressively. “Why do you care? This can’t be about Jackson. He was a huge help back there. So what is it, Luke? What do you want to say to me?”
Luke opens his mouth, then closes it again.
“Yeah,” I say, stepping around him. “That’s what I thought.”