فصل بیست و دوم

CHAPTER 22

WILL

I sit in my chair, waiting for Barb to come to take me to isolation like I deserve. The morning has rolled into afternoon, afternoon into evening, evening into night, and I still haven’t heard anything from her, the threat she gave yesterday buried under what has come to pass.

My eyes travel to the clock on my nightstand as another minute ticks by. Every change in the red numbers putting yesterday further in the past.

Putting Poe in the past.

Poe died on my birthday.

I shake my head sadly, remembering his laughter at dinner. He was fine and then just like that . . .

I kick myself, the shock and horror that filled Stella’s face as she looked at me, the anger as she pushed me away, haunting me for the millionth time today.

Why did I do that? What was I thinking?

I wasn’t. That’s the problem. Stella thought out all the rules and I couldn’t just follow them? What’s wrong with me? It’s only a matter of time before I do something really stupid. Something that gets us both killed.

I’m getting the fuck out of here.

I launch myself out of the chair, grabbing my big duffel from under my bed. I throw open the drawers and shove my clothes into it, clearing everything out as quickly as I can. Calling an Uber, I pack my art supplies and sketchbooks into my backpack, the pencils and the papers all shoved messily inside after the important stuff. I put the framed cartoon from my mom gently on top of the mound in my duffel bag, wrapping it carefully in a shirt, before zipping my bag closed and dropping a pin for the driver to meet me at the east entrance.

I put on my coat and slip out of my room, booking it down the hall to the double doors and down the elevator to the east lobby. Pulling my beanie on, I shove open the door with my side, heading just inside the lobby doors to wait.

Tapping my foot impatiently, I check the status of my car, squinting when I see movement on the other side of the doors. The glass fogs up and I watch as a hand reaches up to draw a heart.

Stella.

I can see her now, in the darkness.

We stare at each other, the glass of the door between us. She’s bundled up in a thick green jacket. A scarf is wrapped tightly around her neck, a pair of gloves on her small hands, her backpack slung over her shoulder.

I reach up, pressing my palm to the glass, inside the heart that she drew.

She crooks her finger, telling me to come outside.

My heart jumps. What is she doing? She has to come back inside; it’s freezing. I have to go get her.

I push carefully through the door, the cold air hitting me right in the face. Pulling my hat down lower over my ears, I walk over to her, my footsteps crunching noisily as I walk through the perfect blanket of white.

“Let’s go see the lights,” she says as I stop next to her, the invisible pool cue between us. She’s excited. Almost manic.

I look in the direction of the holiday lights, knowing how far they are. “Stella, that’s gotta be two miles away. Come back inside—” She cuts me off. “I’m going.” Her eyes meet mine, resolute, and full of something I’ve never seen there before, something wild. She’s going with or without me. “Come with me.” I’m all for being rebellious, but this seems like a death wish. Two kids with barely functioning lungs walking two miles one-way to go look at lights? “Stella. Now isn’t the time to be a rebel. Is this about Poe? This is about Poe, isn’t it?” She turns to face me. “It’s about Poe. It’s about Abby. It’s about you and me, Will, and everything we’ll never get to do together.” I stay silent, watching her. Her words sound like they could come straight from my mouth, but when I hear them from her, they don’t sound the same.

“If this is all we get, then let’s take it. I want to be fearless and free,” she says, giving me a look, daring me. “It’s just life, Will. It’ll be over before we know it.” * * *

We walk down an empty sidewalk, the streetlights over our heads making the icy patches shine. I try to stay six feet away from her while we walk, our steps slow as we carefully try not to slip.

I peer at the road in the distance and then back at Stella. “Let’s get an Uber, at least?” I think of the one that’s already on the way.

She rolls her eyes. “I want to walk and enjoy the night,” she says, leaning in and grabbing my hand in hers.

I jerk back, but she holds on tight, her fingers lacing through mine. “Gloves! We’re good.” “But we’re supposed to be six feet—” I start to say as she moves away from me, stretching our arms out but refusing to let go.

“Five feet,” she shoots back, determined. “I’m keeping that one.”

I watch her for a moment, taking in the look on her face, and let all the fear and nervousness melt away. I’m finally outside a hospital. Going to actually see something instead of looking at it from a roof or a window.

And Stella is right next to me. Holding my hand. And even though I know it’s wrong, I can’t see how it possibly could be.

I cancel the Uber.

We trudge on through the snow, the lights beckoning to us in the distance, the park border coming slowly closer and closer.

“I still want to see the Sistine Chapel,” she says while we walk, her footsteps assertive as she crunches through the snow.

“That’d be cool,” I say, shrugging. It’s not at the top of my list, but if she’s there, I’d go too.

“Where do you want to go?” she asks me.

“Just about everywhere,” I say, thinking of all the places I’ve been but missed out on. “Brazil, Copenhagen, Fiji, France. I want to go on a worldwide trip where I just go to all the places I’ve been in a hospital at but never got to explore. Jason said if I ever could do it, he’d go with me.” She squeezes my hand, nodding, understanding, the snow clinging to our hands and our arms and our jackets. “Do you like warm weather or cold weather?” I ask her.

She bites her lip, thinking. “I like snow. But, aside from that, I think I prefer warm weather.” She looks over at me, curious. “You?” “I like the cold. Not a huge fan of trudging through it, though,” I reply, fixing my beanie and smirking at her. I bend down, scooping up some snow and packing it together. “But I am a huge fan of snowballs.” She holds up her hands, shaking her head and giggling as she steps away from me. “Will. Do not.” Then she scoops up a snowball and with lightning-fast speed pins me right in the chest. I stare at her in shock, dramatically falling to my knees.

“I’ve been hit!”

She tags me with another one in response, hitting me in the arm with a sniperlike aim. I chase after her, the two of us laughing and chucking snow in each other’s direction as we head toward the lights.

Way too soon, we both begin gasping for breath.

I grab her hand in truce as we huff and puff up a hill, turning around to look back at it all when we finally reach the top.

Stella exhales, fog swirling out of her mouth as we look back at the snow and the hospital, far behind us. “Sure looks better behind us.” I give her a look, watching as the snow falls gently onto her hair and face. “Was this on your to-do list? Break out with Will?” She laughs, the sound happy, real, despite everything. “No. But my to-do list has changed.” She spreads her arms wide and falls back onto the hill, the snow giving way around her, puffing softly as she lands in it. I watch as she makes a snow angel, laughing as her arms and legs move back and forth, back and forth. No to-do list, no suffocating hospital, no obsessive regimen, no one else to worry about.

She’s just Stella.

I spread my arms and fall down next to her, the snow molding to my body as I land. I laugh, making a snow angel too, my whole body cold from the snow, but warm from the moment.

We stop and look up at the sky. The stars seem an arm’s length away. Bright enough and close enough for us to just reach out and grab them. I look over at her, frowning when I notice a bulge in the front of her coat, on her chest.

Not that I’ve been looking, but her boobs are nowhere near that big.

“What the hell is that?” I ask, poking at the lump.

She unzips her coat to reveal a stuffed panda, lying limply against her chest. I smirk, looking up to meet her eyes. “I can’t wait to hear this one.” She pulls the panda out of her jacket, holding it up. “Abby gave this to me for my first hospital trip. I’ve had it with me every time since.” I can see her, young and small and scared, coming into Saint Grace’s for the first time, clutching that ratty panda bear. I laugh, clearing my throat. “Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I didn’t want to have to tell you that a third boob’s a deal breaker.” She glares at me, but it gives way quickly. She tucks the panda back inside, sitting up to zip the coat back up.

“Let’s go see your lights,” I say, standing. She tries to join me but jerks back to the ground. Kneeling, I see that the strap of her O2 concentrator is caught on a root. I reach out, taking the strap off it, and hold out my hand to help her stand back up. She takes it and I pull, her body swinging up, the motion moving her inches away from me.

I look into her eyes, the air coming out of our mouths intermingling in the small space between us, doing what I know our bodies can’t. Behind her I see our snow angels, a perfect five feet apart. I let go, quickly stepping back before the dizzying urge to kiss her overwhelms me again.

We keep walking, finally making it into the park and to the giant pond, the lights just a little bit farther. I watch as the moonlight glints off the frozen surface, dark and beautiful. Looking back, I see Stella breathing heavily, struggling to catch her breath.

“You okay?” I ask, taking a step closer.

She nods, looking past me and pointing. “Let’s take a breather.”

I glance behind me to see a stone footbridge, turning back to grin at Stella’s pun. We walk slowly toward the small bridge, edging carefully along the shoreline of the pond.

Stella stops short, her foot reaching slowly out to touch the ice, and she gradually puts more and more weight on it, testing it out beneath her shoe.

“Stella, don’t,” I say, picturing her going clean through it into the freezing water beneath.

“It’s frozen solid. C’mon!” She gives me a look. The same look I’ve seen all night tonight: brave, mischievous, daring.

Reckless comes to mind too. But I push that aside.

If this is all we get, then let’s take it.

So I take a deep breath, taking her challenge, and grab her hand as we slide onto the ice together.