Chapter 11 #2
He’s quiet, and I wonder whether I should let him be. “My dad is eternally frustrated with me for not doing exactly what he tells me to do. My mom passed away a long time ago.”
“Oh,” I say. “I’m so sorry.” My heart aches with sympathy. I couldn’t imagine my life without my mother.
“Bianca takes after her,” Kane admits, “And Jade can tell she’s Dad’s favorite, which is why she’s always… the way she is.”
“Ouch,” I say. “Poor thing.”
“Yeah,” he says, propping up on his elbows. “She’s a… precocious kid.”
He leans in, eyes meeting mine suddenly. “Why are you so happy all the time?”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “I’m not. In fact, you aggravate me constantly.”
“I know,” he says, gaze probing, “but the rest of the time, you’re like God’s gift to earth.”
I scoff, feeling remarkably like him. “I’m not. I’m just pretending. Thoughts create actions, and all that. If I pretend to be chipper and happy all the time, I will become happy all the time.”
His brows raise. “Does it work?”
“Not even a little bit,” I admit. “I don’t know how other people do it either. Do you think everyone else is actually happy to walk into the hospital every day?”
“That’s what I thought about you for months.”
“Maybe we’re all just pretending. Maybe none of this is real.”
“Maybe,” he laughs.
A bang shouts from my left side, and I turn my head, mumbling trickling through the walls.
“Do you think there’s another elevator on that side?” I ask Kane.
He scrubs his face, turning to me with a yawn. “No, I think that’s actually—”
“David!” Calypso cries.
I gag at the same time Kane coughs.
I run through my mental map of the hospital, remembering that the on-call rooms are right next to us.
“They’re not,” I say, disbelieving.
“Oh, they are,” Kane says. “And they’re screaming, too.” His posture stiffens, rubbing a hand through his hair.
Calypso moans again, and I cover my ears. “Oh my God!” I whisper to Kane. “Do you think they know we're here?”
His forehead creases, looking as appalled as I am. There’s a wet slapping sound, and Kane turns green. His voice lowers to match mine. “No idea. How long has it been?”
I check my phone. “Only an hour and a half.”
“Fuck,” he whispers. “Still barely halfway through their usual fixing time.” He drops his head into his hands. “How am I supposed to sleep now?”
Calypso yodels again, and we both wince.
I pull out my phone. “I’m telling them to stop,” I whisper. “Ugh.”
“Wait,” he says, encircling my arm with his hand. “They won’t be checking their phones in the middle of this. It’ll just be something for them to laugh at later.”
I frown, realizing he’s right. “So what are we supposed to do? Listen in? Get ideas?”
He snorts quietly. “I don’t think David is someone I would take advice from.”
He thinks for a second, and both of us blanch as they get louder.
There’s the sound of laughing, and then I get the last of “Thank God I’m not with… some wannabe surgeon,” before giggling starts up again.
I whip around to see if that hurt Kane’s feelings, but his eyes are already a million miles away, which is how I know she did.
Tramping bitch.
My ex’s voice is loud and clear after. “I can’t believe it took her so long to find out… dumb bitch lucky to graduate.”
Now it’s Kane’s turn to look worried, but I’m numb, knowing damn well that this abomination of a human being praised me for my intelligence, while compiling a list of all the dumb things I said to tell his friends.
While ‘joking’ with me about couples matching, elevating me to his level, and propelling us both to the Ivories with his ‘god-tier’ test-taking abilities.
While getting all the board prep material for free on a shared school drive and neglecting to inform me that it existed.
While telling me I don’t need to worry about studying for Step 2, as he was in the silent area ‘studying’ with Calypso every night.
Calypso’s muffled chuckle echoes over “unmatchable dick,” and my rage boils so hot, I turn to Kane and whisper conspiratorially, “Do you think they can hear us in here?”
“Huh?” he asks, rubbing his jaw and looking away.
“They think they’ve won,” I urge him. “Let’s mess with them,” I say, gently placing my hand on his cheek and tilting him back. “If we have to listen to them, they should have to hear us.”
For the first time, I hope nothing I’ve ever said to Kane has stuck, and he can sink to my level for a petty, childish scheme together.
Making fun of me is one thing, but nobody is allowed to mock my fake boyfriend except me.
“Blonde fucking idiot,” David grunts, and Kane’s expression drops, morphing into a twin scowl that burns like mine.
And then a flashing, sinister smile creeps across his face as I see how alike we really are.
“Test it then,” he whispers. “Say something loudly. Something crazy.”
“I like center-cut rings,” I announce, “diamonds only. I don’t believe in cubic zirconia.”
Suddenly, silence.
Our grins widen.
“Fake engagement, now?” he whispers. And then, louder. “I don’t believe in fake anything,” he announces. “Bigger is better, right?”
“Big enough to make people gasp with envy. Big enough for the insider trading allegations to begin.”
Distantly, almost too quiet to hear, Calypso and David’s mutters slip through the walls.
“What are the chances of them getting married anytime soon?” I lean in, speaking under my breath to Kane.
“Zero,” he says. Whatever mood he’s in, I’ve fixed it. His face lights up.
“We should put on a show,” I tell him. “Pretend we’re in a romantic drama or something.”
“A what?”
“Let’s pretend we’re arguing,” I whisper. “We hate each other because we’re so passionate. List a bunch of reasons it can’t work, and then make them jealous with hate sex.”
His eyebrows raise.
“You want us to act out sex?”
“We don’t have to actually do anything—”
He rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Not with our child in attendance.” He points to his jacket, where the mouse is eyeing us warily.
On my scowl, it ducks back into the pocket.
I press my lips together and ignore the little rodent to keep the act together.
“I’ll start.”
“Since we’re trapped in here,” I say, standing up, “Why don’t we break our record from yesterday?”
He stands with me, stepping toward me until I’m backed up against the wall, each step stomping loud enough to be heard.
“Hmm.” Stomp. “How do you think?” Stomp. “We should do that?”
At once, he bursts forward, hands caging me against the wall hard enough to make the carriage rattle.
Hot.
“You tortured me for hours yesterday,” he lies, grinning as he slams his palms into the carriage again. “Now it’s my turn.”
The miscreants on the other side of the wall have lost their words, and I grin back.
“You really want to play games with me,” I say, injecting frustration into my voice, “knowing damn well you could match anywhere, and so could I, and we would spiral apart across the country. So what’s in this for you?”
“What’s in this for me?” He stomps around in a circle. “I’ll tell you what’s in it for me.” He spins around, pinning me with a glare. “You.”
“Me?” I gasp.
“You have made my life unbearable,” he says, playing the part of jilted lover perfectly.
“But I can go anywhere at the end of this year—”
“And I’ll still have a piece of you here, haunting me,” he growls. “Do you really think leaving will have any effect on me? That you can leave and take my feelings with you?”
He prowls closer. “I can’t be angry. I can’t rot in bed. I can’t even dissolve into my own self-hate because I spend my precious moments of free time outside of the hospital worrying about you.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I respond, suddenly transfixed. Does he actually?
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, “when I have spent the better part of the last year trying not to think.”
He shakes his head.
“You’ve stolen space in my mind like an arachnid, taking up residence in every dusty corner.
Memories string themself up everywhere, hanging from every one of my long-forgotten planes, winding themself into so many connections that it’s impossible to feel alone, because, like spell work, it’s never long before I trigger a memory you’ve woven yourself into. ”
“I’m trying to chart, I think about you barging in, forcing me into a relationship.
I try to escape, and I imagine you here, still, trapped inside a shift in the hospital walls.
I follow the sun that rises into the sky every morning, reminded of who tries to make sure I can keep one with me, even if she’s not around. ”