“I hate doctors.”
“I know,” I said. This was true. Grace had waxed poetic about this before; personally, I thought it had more to do with her aversion to wasting time than it did to any fear or disdain of those in the medical profession. I thought what she really had was an aversion to waiting rooms. “We’ll go to the health center. They’re fast.”
Grace made a face, then shrugged an agreement. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” I said, relieved as she thumped back down onto a pillow.
Grace closed her eyes. “I don’t think they’ll find anything.”
I thought she was probably right. But what else could I do?
• GRACE •
Part of me wanted to go to the doctor, in case they could help. But more of me was afraid to, in case they couldn’t. What option was left if this failed?
Being in the health center added to the surreal aspect of the day. I’d never been, though Sam seemed familiar enough with it. The walls were a putrid shade of sea green and the exam room had a mural featuring four misshapen killer whales frolicking in sea green waves. All the while the nurse and the doctor were questioning me, Sam kept putting his hands in his pockets and taking them out. When I shot him a look, he quit doing it for a few minutes, then started cracking his knuckles with his thumb instead.
My head was swimmy, which I told the doctor, and my nose obligingly demonstrated its bleeding for the nurse. I could only describe my stomachache, however, and both of them looked mystified when I tried to get them to smell my skin (the doctor, however, did).
Ninety-five minutes after we’d entered, I left with a prescription for a seasonal allergy medication, a recommendation to get an over-the-counter iron supplement and saline nose spray, and the memory of a lecture on teens and sleep deprivation. Oh, and Sam was sixty dollars poorer.
“Do you feel better?” I asked Sam as he opened the door to the Volkswagen for me. He was a hunched bird in this spring weather, black and stark against the gray clouds. It was impossible to tell from the occluded sky if it was the beginning of the day or the end of one.
“Yes,” he said. He was still a terrible liar.
“Good,” I said. I was still a fantastic one.
And the thing inside my muscles groaned and stretched and ached.
Sam took me for a coffee, which I did not drink, and while we sat in Kenny’s, Sam’s cell phone rang. Sam tipped the phone toward me so I could see Rachel’s number.
Leaning back, he handed me the phone. He had his arm curled around the back of my neck in a way that was very uncomfortable but very charming, so I couldn’t move. I leaned my cheek against his arm and flipped the phone open.
“Hello?”
“Grace, oh my God, are you totally crazy?”
My stomach twisted. “You must’ve talked to my parents.”
“They called my house. Probably the Tundra Queen’s as well. They wanted to know if you were with me, because apparently you did not spend last night in your bed, and you were not near your phone today, and they were growing slightly concerned, in a way that is very disturbing for Rachel to be involved in!”
I pressed my hand into my forehead and leaned my elbow on the table. Sam politely pretended not to listen, though Rachel’s voice was clearly audible. “I’m sorry, Rachel. What did you tell them?”
“You know I’m not a good liar, Grace! I couldn’t tell them you were at my house!”
“I know,” I said.
Rachel said, “So I told them you were at Isabel’s.”
I blinked. “You did?”
“What else was I supposed to do? Tell them you were at The Boy’s, and have them kill both of you?”
My voice came out sounding a bit more pugnacious than I intended. “They’re going to find out eventually.”
“What do you mean? Grace Brisbane, you do not mean that you’re not going back home again. Tell me that this was just because you were momentarily angry at them for grounding you. Or even tell me it’s because you could not live without The Boy’s stunning Boyfruits for another night. But don’t tell me you think it’s forever!”
Sam’s face was twisted into a weird shape at the mention of his Boyfruits. I told Rachel, “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. But no, I don’t really feel like going back anytime soon. Mom helpfully told me she thought that me and Sam were just a fling and that I needed to learn the difference between love and lust. And last night, Dad told me I wasn’t allowed to see him until I was eighteen.”
Sam looked stricken. I hadn’t told him that part.
“Wow. Again, the limited understanding of parental types never fails to surprise me. Especially because The Boy is…well, The Boy is clearly incredible, so what is their problem? But, anyway, what should I do? Are you going to…um. Yeah, what’s going to happen?”
“Eventually I’ll get tired of wearing the same two shirts over and over, and I’ll have to go home and confront them,” I said. “But until then, I guess…I guess I’m not talking to them.” It felt weird to say it. Yes, I was furious at them for what they’d said. But even I knew that those things weren’t really worthy, on their own, of running away. It was more like they were the tip of the iceberg, and I wasn’t so much running away as making their emotional distance from me official. They had seen no less of me today than they had most other days of my teen years.
“Wow,” Rachel said. You knew she was nonplussed when that was all she could say.
“I’m just done,” I said, and I was surprised to hear my voice waver, just a little. I hoped Sam hadn’t caught it; I made sure my voice was firm when I said, “I’m not pretending we’re a happy family anymore. I’m taking care of myself for once.”
It seemed suddenly profound, this moment, sitting in a faded little booth in Kenny’s, the napkin holder on the table reflecting an image of Sam leaning against me, and me feeling like an island floating farther and farther from shore. I could feel my brain taking a picture of this scene, the washed-out lighting, the chipped edge of the plates, the still-full coffee mug in front of me, the neutral colors of the layered T’s Sam wore.
“Wow,” Rachel said again. She paused, for a long moment. “Grace, if you’re really serious about this…be careful, okay? I mean…don’t hurt The Boy. It just seems like this is the kind of war that leaves lots of bodies behind and leaves the villages of the surrounding areas exhausted and war-weary from all the pillaging.”
“Believe me,” I said, “The Boy is the one thing in all this that I’m determined to keep.”
Rachel breathed out a huge sigh. “Okay. You know I’ll do whatever you need me to do. You probably ought to touch base with she-of-the-pointy-boots to make sure that she knows what’s going on.”
“Thanks,” I said, and Sam leaned his head on my shoulder as if he were suddenly as exhausted as I was. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Rachel agreed and hung up. I slid the phone back into the pocket of Sam’s cargo pants before resting my head against his head. I closed my eyes, and for a moment I just let myself inhale the scent of his hair and pretend that we were already back at Beck’s house. I just wanted to be able to curl up with him and sleep without having to worry about confronting my parents or Cole or the odor of almonds and wolf that was starting to blossom on my skin again.