Arcadia's Gift(26)

“Sure, Bron, I’d love to attend! I’ll wear my leather teddy and carry a riding crop. Think a studded dog collar would be too much?”
There was a slight pause before she replied, “It’s okay if you break down and cry. That’s what support groups are for. I’m sure no one will fault you for getting snot all over your sleeve.” I heard a murmured hiss in the background telling her to be more sensitive. I laughed.
“They say emotional trauma can cause teens to act out in inappropriate ways, but I would have given the football team blow jobs anyway. After all, they did beat Davenport last week.”
Bronwyn made a choking sound like she swallowed a laugh and quickly covered it with a fake cough. “Well, okay, Cady, I’ll talk to you tomorrow then. Bye.”
I hung up the phone, my grin fading. I missed my best friend. The few times I saw her since the accident, her discomfort had been obvious. Bronwyn was great listener, but not so great at knowing what to say in awkward situations. I guess talking to me qualified as awkward now.
I opened a new window on my screen, and signed into Facebook. I’d been avoiding social media since the accident because I didn’t really want to read the outpouring of sympathy from my classmates on my Facebook wall. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate the thoughts, I just couldn’t deal with it all yet. A couple of days after the accident I posted a short thank you, and hadn’t looked at it since. I wondered what the protocol was for deleting Lony’s page. I could probably do it myself. She had never been very creative with passwords, and I’m sure I’d be able to hack it inside of five minutes, but was that right? Maybe Facebook has some sort of death cancellation policy where my parents could call them to delete the account.#p#分页标题#e#
Once Facebook loaded, I clicked over to Bronwyn’s wall and left a message for her to meet me after she got off school tomorrow. It was time for me to start getting out of the house more.
That night as I was changing into my pj's for bed, Bryan phoned. Three nights in a row? He asked me about my day, and without planning to, I began telling him the story of Lucy and the mass in her lung.
"Are you sure you didn't feel a lump or something? Maybe something small enough that the doctor didn't notice?"
"I'm sure," I insisted. "It wasn't a lump at all. It was a vibration. And cold. You know, way cooler than the other skin around it. I thought I could hear it, too, but now I'm not so sure that part wasn't my imagination."
"Hmmm..." he pondered. "Maybe the mass inside the dog isn't a tumor at all, but an object. It might be radiating something, or you might have felt a magnetic pull. Were you wearing any metallic jewelry on your hands?"
"No. I didn't have jewelry on at all. Not even earrings."
"And the vet is going to let you know what she finds?"
"Yeah. Dr. Kristy promised to call right after the surgery. I thought about going out there, but I have my appointment in the afternoon."
"Ah, the therapist... You sure you don't need a ride?"
"I'm sure," I said with a smile. "Bryan, you don't have to be so nice to me just because my sister died. I mean, I appreciate your help and concern. You're about the only person I can really talk to right now, but I don't want you to go out of your way because you think you have to take care of me."
"Do you really think I'm just being nice to you because your sister died?"
The way he said it made me feel badly for even bringing it up. "I guess not. But...well...why are you being so nice to me? There are a lot of other kids in the school that you could be friends with who would be much better company than I am right now."
"I don't want other company. I want your company."
My breath caught in my chest and my brain froze for a comeback.
"I'll have my cell with me all day tomorrow,” he continued. “If you want to get a hold of me during school, just text, all right? I'll talk to you soon. Sweet dreams."
I held the phone to my chest long after the line disconnected.






 
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Chapter 12


By the time Dr. Kristy phoned at noon the next day, I’d caught my school work up in three subjects and was feeling pretty good. Hearing the doctor's voice —a mixture of intelligence and bedside kindness, which she used even when having the most mundane of conversations —brought back my concern for the little dog.
"How is she? How’s Lucy?" I asked, my voice cracking a bit.
"Lucy's going to be just fine. She's still groggy from the anesthesia, and she'll have to wear an e-collar on her neck for the next couple of weeks, but she should be up and running around in no time."