Chapter 24
I woke up on Thanksgiving Day to a layer of snow outside my bedroom window. Only a few inches were on the ground, but they were enough to transform our lawn from a sea of brown grass to a pristine white blanket.
“Good morning,” my mom said when I wandered into the kitchen in search of a cup of coffee. “Happy Turkey Day!” She was standing at the counter with an apron on, already working on tonight’s feast. I frowned and looked up at the clock above the stove.
“Morning, Mom. Why are you cooking already? It’s only nine.” As soon as the question left my mouth, I realized what I’d just said. “Wait. Why are you cooking?” My mom’s lack of culinary skills had ruined many meals in the past, and suddenly I had an image in my head of the entire turkey on fire.
“Don’t worry,” said my dad. He was sitting at the kitchen table with his usual breakfast: half a grapefruit, a cup of green tea, and the sports section. “I’m cooking the bird. Your mother’s help is restricted to the mashed potatoes.”
“Drew won’t be happy,” I said. Potatoes were his favorite food at Thanksgiving. Luckily, mine was pumpkin pie.
“Hey!” my mom said, brandishing the kitchen beater in my direction. Chunks of potato fell from the silver blades and splattered on the floor. “Just you wait. These will be the best taters you’ve ever tasted.”
“Can’t wait,” I said. “Food poison is my favorite flavor of potato.”
I tried not to laugh at my own joke, but then I heard my dad’s deep, wheezing chuckle and I couldn’t contain myself. My mom pretended to look angry for a few seconds, but it wasn’t long before she cracked a smile too.
“So,” I said, once we all calmed down, “you never told me why you’re cooking so early.”
“Your sister requested we celebrate at lunchtime,” my mom said. “She has something going on later tonight.”
As Dr. Mitchell had warned, Cara’s recovery was a slow process.
She was still fatigued most of the time, but she’d gained back enough strength to start taking daily walks on the treadmill, and last week we took a trip to the mall.
But even though she was steadily getting better, I didn’t understand how or why Cara would leave on Thanksgiving, especially when we had so much to be thankful for this year.
“What? Where’s she going?”
My mom smiled, and it was one of those I-know-something-you-don’t grins. “Can’t tell you.”
Right when I opened my mouth to grill her further, Cara stepped into the kitchen still wearing her bathrobe and slippers. “Have you guys seen outside? It snowed!”
“Yeah,” Drew said, yawning as he appeared beside her. He’d come home from school late last night for the holiday. “I have a feeling I’m going to be the one shoveling the driveway.”
“Just look at it this way,” my dad told him, turning the page of his paper, “you’ll burn off all the fattening food we’re about to eat.”
Drew grumbled under his breath as he headed toward the coffeepot, and I turned back to Cara. “What’s going on tonight?” I asked her.
“That would ruin the surprise,” she said, her eyes lighting up with a glow of mischief. “You know how those work, right?”
It turned out my mom wasn’t the only one in on the surprise. Four hours, two plates of stuffing, and one piece of pie later, my siblings and I piled into Drew’s beat-up Honda Civic. I still had no clue what was happening or where we were going, but apparently Drew did.
“Here, put this on,” Cara said, handing me a blindfold as Drew turned on the car.
“Wait,” I said, glaring at him. “You get to know, but I don’t?”
“Don’t complain to me,” Drew said, backing out of the garage. “Cara’s the mastermind behind the plan. I’m just following orders.”
“Relax, Stella,” Cara told me. “This is supposed to be fun. You’ve done so much for me over the past few years. I’m only trying to repay the favor.”
“I don’t need you to repay me for anything,” I said, but I slipped the blindfold on anyway. She was clearly excited about whatever she was planning, and I wasn’t going to ruin that for her.
I did my best to pay attention to the route that Drew took.
He turned onto the highway after leaving our neighborhood, and when the trip started to stretch into an hour-long drive, I knew we were heading to Minneapolis.
After that, it wasn’t long before I felt the quick stops and sharp turns of Drew’s horrible city driving.
“Are we almost there?” I asked, fidgeting with the bandana over my eyes. I wasn’t normally the type of person who got carsick, but sitting in the backseat and not being able to see anything was making me nauseous.
“Don’t take that off,” Cara said and swatted my hand away. “We’ll be there in five.”
“I was only readjusting,” I said. “This thing is itchy.”
Five minutes turned into fifteen, so when Cara told me we’d arrived, I ripped off the blindfold and looked around.
The last thing I’d seen was my house, so the stark change of scenery was disorientating, not to mention that it was dark outside.
I blinked a few times as I looked around, but finally I realized we were at the Target Center.
Drew pulled up to the valet parking, and one of the attendants approached the car.
“Are the Timberwolves playing tonight?” I asked as we stepped outside into the crisp winter air. I wasn’t a big basketball fan, so I didn’t understand why Cara would take me to a game.
“Nope,” Drew said as he handed his keys to the valet.
“Okay, so what’s the event?”
“A concert,” Cara said. Her face was already rosy from the cold, but she had a wide grin on her face.
“What con—” I didn’t finish my question, because that’s when I noticed the suspicious number of teenage girls streaming into the arena.
My head dropped back, and I stared up at the digital billboard above the Target Center’s front entrance. Smiling down at me were four familiar faces, and one in particular made my stomach roll.
It didn’t make any sense. The Heartbreakers’ tour ended back in September. What were they doing in Minnesota? Better yet—why did Cara think taking me to a show where I’d have to watch my ex perform was a good idea? Was this some last-ditch attempt to get us back together?
Ever since our talk about my decision to end things with Oliver, Cara had let me be.
I knew she wasn’t happy with my choice, but she didn’t press the matter.
Occasionally she’d ask me how I was feeling, but other than that, we didn’t talk about Oliver.
Had she been planning this all along, letting me think she’d dropped the subject only so she could ambush me later?
Crossing my arms, I cemented my feet on the sidewalk and refused to move. “I’m not going.”
“You have to,” Cara said. “This concert? The guys are putting it on for us.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Explain. Now.”
“Okay,” Cara said, taking a deep breath.
“A few weeks ago, I got a call from Oliver.
He wanted to see how I was doing, make sure the transplant had gone well, that sort of thing.
We talked for a long time. Eventually he mentioned that one of the reasons he was calling was because the band was interested in putting on a special concert—one where all the proceeds would be donated to cancer research.
Oliver asked if I wanted to come as a special guest, kinda like a face of the cause, and I said yes, so they arranged to do the show here in Minneapolis so I could attend.
“I know you’re still trying to get over Oliver, but this concert isn’t about you and him.
It’s about us and any other person who’s had to go through what we did.
The guys are doing this because they met you and were inspired by our story.
Being here to celebrate that I kicked cancer’s ass means the world to me”—Cara paused and there were tears in her eyes—“but I don’t want to do it without you. ”
My mouth had fallen open halfway through Cara’s explanation, and now I could barely speak. “They really did all this—because of us?”
Cara nodded her head. Tears were still rushing down her cheeks like a shining trail of diamonds. “Please say you’ll come,” she said, and the look on her face rattled something loose inside my chest. All I could do was nod back and try not to cry. How could I possibly say no?
***
Since she was a special guest, Cara didn’t just have regular tickets; she had three VIP passes. While I knew that watching the concert would bring back memories, I wasn’t ready for the surge of emotions that slammed into me as soon as we stepped backstage. Maybe it was just JJ.
“Bear!” he yelled and barreled into me so hard that I almost fell to the floor.
“JJ, you’re crushing me,” I said, barely able to breathe.
“Sorry,” he said and quickly let go. “I couldn’t help it. It’s not the same without you around.”
“You better watch out,” warned a familiar voice, and I turned to see Xander smiling at me. “I’m fairly positive that JJ’s planning to kidnap you.”
“Oh my God, Xander,” I exclaimed when I noticed the change in his appearance. His usual thick-framed glasses were gone. “You look great!”
“You think?” he asked. “I’m trying out contacts because I figured they’d be harder for JJ to break.”
“Hey, this time was purely accidental,” JJ said. “It’s not like I meant to sit on them.”
“What about the time you tried using them as a slingshot and flung them off our balcony?” Xander asked. JJ attempted to hold a straight face, but he quickly gave in to his snicker and Xander shook his head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Where’s Alec?” I said as I looked around. “I’d like you all to meet my sister.”
“Right here,” he said, appearing out of the shadows like a silent night creature. Like always, his face was expressionless, but from the force of his hug I knew he was glad to see me.