Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [97]
I almost skipped school that Monday, but a faint hope forced me to go. I sat in the commons that morning, knowing that Sage wasn’t going to show up. But still … I pictured her barging in, all brash and angry, a tiny bandage on the bridge of her nose. How she’d listen to my heartfelt apology and punch me in the arm. Then this whole horrible episode would turn into a bad dream.
Sage didn’t come to school. I didn’t see Tammi, either. Right before the first bell rang, Jack passed by and swatted the back of my head.
“Wakey, wakey, Logan.”
Jack was his usual manic self, and I wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk to him. I started to walk to class. He followed.
“Where did you run off to after the party? When you got that call … Jesus, who gave you that shiner?”
I zombied my way to biology. “I went to Columbia. Some drunk tried to take my wallet. I wouldn’t give it up.”
Jack whistled, impressed. By lunchtime, he’d spread the story around school. I believe his exact words were Logan beat off some guy in Columbia this weekend. That probably left a lot of people wondering what exactly I did with my free time.
That night I had an almost physical relationship with the telephone as I sat waiting for someone to call with information about Sage. Laura called to check on me, but I ran her off the line. Luckily, Mom was working, so she didn’t start to wonder again if I was using drugs.
I wanted to call Sage. I went so far as to look up the hospital number, but I couldn’t do it. What if her father answered? What if she hung up on me? Or what if she wanted to talk to me just to tell me how badly I’d screwed up her life? Maybe her condition was worse than I’d suspected. Or they might have admitted her to the hospital as a boy. Jesus. The entire staff probably knew. They might even have taken away her hormones.
I ended up being too chickenshit to call. I swore if I didn’t hear from her by the next afternoon, I’d contact the hospital, no excuses.
Tammi saved me the trouble. I found her after school Tuesday, distractedly tossing some books into her locker. She looked like she’d just recovered from a long illness: pale, tired, and not totally there.
“Tammi?”
She blinked, then stared at me for a moment like she didn’t remember who I was. Finally, she gave me a thin smile. That was a relief. At least she didn’t hate me.
“C’mon, Logan.” I followed her down the west hall and into the band/music/choir room. She shut the door behind us and sat on the edge of the risers. I sat opposite on the piano bench.
“Tammi, how’s …”
“She’s fine. No, no, she’s not. But she’ll recover.” She spoke flatly.
“How bad …”
“She’ll recover, Logan.” That was the official statement. Tammi knew more, but I was no longer in Sage’s inner circle.
“Did they …”
She shook her head. “Sage won’t talk. Not to the police, not to Mom, not to me. Maybe it’s for the best. Daddy would shoot the guy if he knew who it was.”
I thumped the piano. “I’d like to get ahold of him myself.”
Tammi rolled her eyes. In her mind, I was all talk. My threats were bluster and bravado, nothing more.
“Do you think I could visit Sage?”
“Are you sure you want to, Logan? Someone might find out.” There was no inflection in her voice, but the dig was there. Had Sage told Tammi about my problems with Laura? Did Tammi know I’d slept with her sister?
“I want to see her.”
Tammi stuck out her tiny jaw. “Well, she doesn’t want to see you. She said if you asked, and she didn’t think you would, to tell you to stay away. That you’ll both be happier.”
So that was it. Sage was at one of the lowest points in her life, and the last thing she wanted was to see me. Two weeks before, I’d been the one who understood, her best friend, the guy she could depend on. And now I was a coward, the boy who ran away when things got rough and abandoned her to the wolves. I laid my forehead on the keyboard.
“Logan?” I had nearly forgotten Tammi was still there. “Logan? Um … it’s not that she doesn