“I was with her,” I admit. “I watched that entire relationship form and continue and break down, and I—”
“But I’m her father,” he whispers.
“And I’m her best friend. I let her go with him that night.” I grasp his shoulder, wait for him to look at me. “We’re all going to walk away from this with regrets, but it’s what we do with those that’s going to change her life. And I think, right now, it’s important to remember that at least she has the chance to live one.”
I leave him to stay with Lane, and I go in search of Mrs. Kennedy. I want to know why she’s here, what the hell it is she wanted. I find her at the admin desk of the recovery ward, two folders in front of her. She says to the clerk, her voice low, “Are you able to make this one out as if their insurance covered it?”
The clerk nods, and I stop next to Mrs. Kennedy. “What are you doing?” I ask.
She flinches at the sound of my voice. “Nothing.” Liar.
I look down at the open folders. Medical bills. One for Cooper Kennedy. The other for Lois Sanders. I don't even bother asking how she has access to the file because she is who she is. Instead, I ask, “How much did you hear in there?”
Her hand’s gentle when she touches my arm, waiting for me to meet her gaze. “I heard nothing. Just like I’m doing nothing. You understand, Lucas?”
I swallow the lump in my throat, realization forming. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She releases me. “How’s Lois? Or… it’s Laney, right? That’s what you call her?”
I nod.
She smiles. “Like Lois Lane?”
I nod again.
“That’s a sweet name.”
“My mom gave it to her.”
Her grin widens. Then she reaches into her bag, pulls out a pamphlet. “I’ve done some research into some rehab facilities for Laney. The best one is forty-five minutes away, but I figured, you being you, you won’t mind driving her.”
I take the pamphlet from her, pretend like I’m skimming it as if I haven’t done my own research. “Mrs. Kennedy, I appreciate this, but Brian—Mr. Sanders—he can’t afford the best. He can barely afford mediocre.”
“Oh, it’s covered,” she says, winks. “By insurance. Also, expect to be getting a call from your lawyers about us dropping the charges.”
I stop breathing. “I’m sorry?”
She reaches up, cups my face in her hands, looks into my eyes. “I know evil, Lucas. I’ve stared it right in the eyes and wished for death. Evil people belong in prison. You’re not evil. You’re everything Lois said you were.” She offers me one last smile before walking away.
When I sat in the holding cell, I started to question my mother’s belief in fate. Instead, I wanted to believe in circumstance, in justice. But maybe Mom was right. Because right now, there’s absolutely no logical reason why this is happening. “Mrs. Kennedy?” I call out, wait for her to stop and face me. I jog over to her. “Why are you doing this?”
She wipes at her eyes, lifts her chin. “Because I failed my son by not acting, not speaking up, not changing the course of his life.” A single tear streaks down her cheek, and she wipes it with the back of her hand. “But it’s not too late to change yours. Yours and Lois’s. You’re both amazing kids, and Lois is lucky to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. About Cooper. About your husband. You really are a good person.”
She drops her gaze, and when she looks back up, she’s smiling. “Good is the enemy of great, Lucas. I want to be great.”
My lawyers called a few minutes after Mrs. Kennedy left the hospital to confirm what she’d told me. The Kennedys had dropped the assault charges.
I wait for Lane to wake up before calling Dad and asking him to come to the hospital. I want them all here. Even Logan and Leo. Especially Leo.
“He won’t want to,” Dad says.
“Make him.”
I hang up.
Laney says, “What’s going on, Luke?”
“Wait. I want everyone here.”
“Am I pregnant?” she jokes.
Brian’s face pales. “Don’t do that,” he says, and I finally find something to laugh about.
Logan enters the room, goes straight to Lane. Every other time he’s come in, she’s been asleep. “I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says. “I should’ve stepped in—”
“Shut up,” she cuts in. “I don’t want to hear it. Not now. Not ever. You understand?”
“But—”
“Logan.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
“Okay.” He chuckles. “You look really pretty, even in a hospital gown.”
“Yeah. The pale blue really brings out the color in my eyes.” She looks around the room. “Leo?” she asks me.
“I’m here,” he says, stepping out from behind Dad, seeing her in the hospital for the first time. He raises a hand, refuses to look her in the eyes. “I miss you,” he croaks.
Laney frowns, looks at me. “Can you give us a minute?”
We give them the minute, but the minute turns to fifteen and I’m sick of waiting. I go back in the room to see Laney holding Leo, his sobs catching in her gown. She raises a finger and I go back out, wait some more. Eventually, Leo appears, wiping at his eyes. “We’re ready,” he tells me.
Laney squeals when I tell her the news. “So we can be together? You’re not going anywhere?” She hugs me tight, and I tell her to be careful—her stitches—but she doesn’t seem to care. Her hug is replaced by Dad’s, Brian’s, and then my brothers. Leo holds me the longest, tells me he was scared, that he didn’t know what he’d do without me, and the truth is, I was scared, too, of what I would do without them.
I call in another favor from the head chef at Pino’s, and he’s more than happy to oblige. Everyone knows about the shooting, about Lane, and he offers to make her meals every night she’s in the hospital, on the house. I pick up the food, and Lane and I have dinner on her bed, the room light dimmed, and swear it, you couldn’t wipe the goofy grins off our faces if you tried. “Are you sad about not beating Lord Voldemort’s record?” she asks.
“Voldemort?”
“He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”
I shrug. I haven’t even thought about it. Haven’t gone on a single run since prom. “Not really. It’s petty compared.”
“Yeah,” she says. “Besides,”—she points to herself—“You got the grand prize right here.”
She’s crazy.
And I love Crazy Laney.
I get home at 6:59, get Lachlan ready for bed. I asked that I be the one to tell him, so he has no idea. I get into bed with him. “Guess what?”
“You’re dumb and I’m not?”
“Well, yeah.” I roll my eyes. “But… I’m also not going anywhere.”
“No baddy jail?”
“Nope. You’re stuck with me until you’re thirty, kid.”
He laughs uncontrollably, the sound contagious. He jumps on the bed, and I let him. I look around his room, see his shrine dedicated to me, see the trophies, the medals. And a calm washes through me, a vision of my future. I take one more look at the trophies, say goodbye to my old life. A life that never defined me like my family does. Like Laney does.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
LUCAS
The minivan smells like hot dogs and stale socks, and I smile in Dad’s direction because he just said, “I’m proud of you for doing this, Luke.” I should do more than just smile because I’m lucky. Really, I am. And everyone’s told me so. Numerous times.
The day after Mrs. Kennedy paid Lane and me a visit at the hospital, two things happened. UNC called, offered me back my scholarship. I told them I’d think about it. The biggest thing, though, was that Lane’s lawyers showed up at the hospital, along with Mrs. Kennedy, and they helped guide us toward a decision that would affect Laney’s future, her life.
In the back of the van, the twins fight over an iPad, Lachlan licks the window, Logan listens to gangsta rap through his giant Beats headphones and Leo reads. Everything is back to normal. Only, it’s not. Because I’m on the way to my graduation ceremony, while across town, Cooper Kennedy’s pleading guilty, accepting a plea bargain that puts him away for eight to ten years. The back half to be spent in minimum security where his mom will do everything she can to help heal him. He wasn’t a bad person, she told us, he’s just really troubled. I wanted so badly not to believe her, but he’s her son. And truth is, my mother would’ve done the same.
I sit in a robe in the middle of a row of chairs, listening to Grace (the valedictorian) relay her speech about what a great four years high school has been, how high school is and will always be the greatest years of our lives, how excited we should all be about our future, how the rest of our lives start now. Next to me, Lois settles her head on my shoulder, excused from the alphabetized seating and name calling so I can help her up the steps and onto the stage. She didn’t want to use her crutches.