Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-one
“It’s fine,” Phoebe said for the tenth time in as many seconds. “I’m fine.”
I still couldn’t catch my breath. My heart was somewhere in the dirt by Dex’s car. “You’re bleeding,” I said, voice trembling. Everything was trembling. I would’ve thought we were having an earthquake if the kind stranger tending to Phoebe’s wounds wasn’t applying medicine with steady hands.
“I skinned my knees. It’s fine.” She looked over her shoulder. “Dex, tell her I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re bleeding.”
“Skinned knees! God.”
I sat back on my heels, seeing spots. Still dazed.
Still paralyzed with the terror of watching my sister fall off a cliff and Dex following without hesitation.
People screamed, gasped, jumped into action to help.
For the longest second in world history, I couldn’t move.
I saw the teachers’ lounge. I saw the ICU.
I saw a nurse unplugging my father. I saw Phoebe, broken and lifeless, and Dex right beside her.
No, I’d thought as I forced myself forward. No no no no no.
They didn’t fall far. Dex managed to grab hold of Phoebe and maneuver their bodies so he took the brunt of the hit, landing on a shallow ledge two feet down. A few of the others who’d stopped to look at the view helped them back up. The moment they were safe on solid ground, I’d vomited.
But they were okay, save for some bumps and blood. They were okay.
I glanced up at Dex, trying to meet his eye. He remained focused on Phoebe, his arms hanging limply at his sides. For the first time since we’d met, his shirt was wrinkled, stained with dirt.
The stranger finished cleaning Phoebe’s knees and covered them with Band-Aids. She stood up, a little wobbly on her feet, our dad’s camera grasped tightly in her hands.
“I’m okay,” she said again, extending a hand to me. I took it, letting her help me up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Or make you throw up. I know how much you hate throwing up.”
I rubbed my eyes. “I’m just…”
“I’m fine.”
“Adrenaline.”
“Huh?”
“You feel fine right now because adrenaline is pumping through your veins.” I dropped my hand to look at Phoebe, eyes sweeping over for something broken, out of place. “Once you calm down, something might be wrong.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Dex is the one who’s hurt.”
I whipped around. He’d brushed off the stranger with the first aid kit, standing away from the thinning crowd. He narrowed his eyes and said, “No, I’m not.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“He’s not moving his arm,” Phoebe pointed out. “His left one. He landed on it.”
“I’m fine.”
I made my way over, reaching for his arm. “Let me see.”
“No,” he growled, but he made no attempt to hold it out of my reach, immediately proving Phoebe right. His hand was purple, knuckles bloody, and when I carefully unbuttoned his shirt sleeve and pushed it up, his arm had swollen to the size of an eggplant.
“Oh my god.”
“It’s a scratch.”
“Your arm is broken, you maniac.”
“What?” Phoebe darted over, her eyes zipping to Dex’s arm held aloft in my delicate grasp. “Oh my—” She dry heaved. “Gross! What the hell? It’s like 127 Hours!”
Ignoring her, I looked at Dex and said, “We have to go to the hospital.”
He gave the surrounding area an apathetic scan, ignoring several onlookers gaping in our direction. “It’s not that bad.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” My eyes burned. “But you are. You are such an idiot.”
“Vi.”
“I’m sorry I said you’re not brave.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “You saved Phoebe. She could’ve died and you… You didn’t even hesitate. You just went and you saved her. I’m so sorry, Dex.”
He stepped into me, wrapping me in a tight hug. I took a shaky breath, pressing my face into his neck. “Everything’s okay, baby,” he said. “I’m sorry, too.” He pulled back, bending to meet my gaze. “We’ll go to the hospital. We’ll be there for like six hours, but we’ll go. Are you good to drive?”
I blinked, his black hole eyes dragging me in. “Hmm?”
“Right,” he said. “I can drive. Let’s go.”
Phoebe looked at me and raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, baby, let’s go.”
It made sense for hospitals to smell the same, like how walking into an unfamiliar high school transports you to fifteen with too much to prove.
The moment we walked through the doors of the emergency room, I was on the brink of a meltdown.
That sickly muddle of antiseptic and cleaning agent clawed at my throat, stomped my lungs, and brought unwelcome memories screaming back.
Phoebe sobbing.
Nurses tiptoeing.
My lousy optimism holding out until the moment the heart monitor flatlined.
The last time I was in a hospital, my world ended.
And now, sitting in a stiff chair in an off-white waiting room, a tank of tropical fish embedded in the wall across the way, I just wanted my dad.
He would know what to say. He’d ease my mind with a joke.
He’d reassure me that just because something bad happened once didn’t mean it would happen every single time, and he’d say it in a way that made it impossible not to believe him. My twin optimist.
A flash snapped me out of my head. Phoebe lowered the camera, offering a sheepish smile.
“Sorry. I wanted a picture of the fish,” she said.
I looked around the empty waiting room, eyes snagging on the nurse behind the counter who’d recorded Dex’s information when we arrived.
He’d taken his time checking in, making sure I was comfortable in this waiting room that smelled like my worst memory, ignoring his own pain to abide mine. That was nearly two hours ago.
“Should I…” I swallowed, willing the nurse to meet my gaze. Maybe she forgot we were here and she would rush to give us an update. No news is good news, my dad would’ve said. That always seemed like crap to me. “It’s been a long time. I should ask about Dex.”
“Don’t,” Phoebe said. I turned to her, fingernails digging into the arms of my chair.
“Why?”
“Because it’s pointless.” She lifted the camera to her eye, looking around the waiting room through the lens. “First of all, we’re not family so they won’t tell us anything. And two: He’s fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
“His arm is broken, Vi.” She put the camera in her lap and sat back, eyes lifting to meet mine. “It takes at least an hour for x-rays. Another hour to put the cast on. And there’s probably, like, two hours of waiting in between. We’ve been waiting a long time because it takes a long time.”
My precious voice of reason. I could’ve burst into tears for the third time today. “Yeah. You’re right.”
She shifted in her chair to face me, folding her legs pretzel-style. “So,” she said, “when were you gonna tell me?”
The topic had cropped up several times, once in the car and a few more as we camped out in the waiting room with nothing but a TV hooked up in the corner playing a weather broadcast on repeat. She let it go each time. Now, though, determination sparked in her eyes and I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky.
“I don’t know, Bee. We don’t even know what it is, yet. If it’s anything.”
“It’s obviously something if he’s calling you ‘baby.’ ”
“Something isn’t necessarily…” I waved my hand, searching for the right word. I landed on: “Meaningful.”
“Okay, well, that’s bullshit,” she said. “You’re losing your mind over a broken arm. That’s meaningful behavior right there.”
I sank in my seat, glancing up at the TV screen. Storm warnings. “Okay, that’s not the right word. But I don’t think he knows what he wants.”
“Seriously? Violet, that dude has been obsessed with you this whole time.”
“What? No.”
“Uh, yeah.”
Dex’s words swirled around my brain: I’ve been fucked out of my head since you showed up at Sequest in that dress.
“Well, just because we have feelings for each other doesn’t mean it will work out,” I said.
She scowled. “Ew. Don’t treat me like a kid whose parents are getting divorced.” She leaned in a little, her eyes searching mine. “I knew you guys liked each other. It was only a matter of time before one of you did something about it.”
“You knew?” I raised my eyebrows. “And you didn’t… care? I thought you were team Catalina.”
“I mean, sure. But I don’t know Catalina. I know you. And I’m not stupid. When I saw all the vibes between you guys it was like, okay, yeah, this is happening.”
I swallowed. “Yeah.”
“That’s a good thing. Don’t sound so doomed.”
“What if it is doomed?” I worried my bottom lip with my teeth. “What if he sabotages it like he did with Catalina?”
“He won’t.”
“You can’t know that.”
“He’s the kind of guy who almost drowns and learns how to swim really well,” she explained, smiling so warmly it twisted my heart. “He’ll make new mistakes, but he won’t make that one.”
I exhaled for what felt like the first time since watching Phoebe and Dex tumble over the side of that cliff. At some point, my sister had lapped me in emotional maturity. Something to grapple with another day.
“Thanks,” I said softly.
She grinned. “It’s purely selfish. I really want Dex to stick around.”
A real smile tugged at my mouth. “Me too.”
A few minutes later, a nurse emerged from down the hall, coming straight for us. We scrambled to our feet. “Are you here with Mr. Dexter?” she asked, looking between us.
“Yes,” I said. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. You can come on back.”
We followed her down the same hallway, our footsteps echoing off the linoleum floor.
At the very end of the hall, a line of cots were separated by curtains, and Dex sat on the first, now wearing a white T-shirt, his arm adorned in a white elbow-length cast. When he noticed us approaching, a huge grin spread across his face.
“Oh my god,” Phoebe said, grabbing my arm. “He’s high.”
“Hey!” he exclaimed, his voice bouncing off the walls. Phoebe immediately hopped up on the bed next to him, fixing her face into a starry-eyed expression.
“My hero!”
“I’m broken,” he reported with a grin. “Twice.”