Shine - Lauren Myracle [46]
“Come on,” he said roughly. I think I was shaming him just as much as I was shaming myself. Or maybe he was scared—not for himself, but for me.
Since I couldn’t get my muscles to work, he took my arm and led me off the ledge. I didn’t remember the particulars, just that he didn’t talk me off the ledge. He somehow carried me off that ledge, and back down the rocks until, finally, I was in the swimming hole again. My bathing suit was torn up, and snot was running out of my nose, and Gwennie and Bailee-Ann dog-paddled over to lead me out of the water and fuss over me. Christian grunted in disgust and went back to play chicken with his buds.
Or maybe he grunted because he was glad it was over.
THIS MORNING, I WENT TO THE HOSPITAL TO VISIT Patrick. I knew it would be ugly, and I knew it would hurt. Most of all, I knew I should have visited him days ago. I’d pulled an Aunt Tildy by avoiding it this long.
But when I got there, the nurse turned me away. “Sorry, hon,” she said. “Family only.”
I stared at her. “But . . . he doesn’t have any family.”
The nurse, who was young and probably straight out of nursing school, regarded me sympathetically. “I’m sorry. It’s the rules. But he’ll be allowed to have visitors if he comes to, so keep checking on him, ’kay?”
“If he comes to?” I said. I felt wobbly.
“When he comes to,” the nurse said fast. Her name tag said KELLY. She took my hand and squeezed it. “Just pray for him. It’s in the Lord’s hands now.”
I nodded, but I was in a daze, and I walked off in the completely wrong direction. I didn’t come out of my fog until I heard someone else asking about Patrick at the nurses’ station. A guy.
“So, uh, can I see him?” I heard him say.
The back of my neck prickled, and I turned around as Kelly, the nurse, explained the “not unless you’re family” rule. The guy was lean and well built, and his khakis fit him just like khakis should. His shirt was a striped oxford, nice enough for church.
It was the guy from the public library, here to see Patrick. Why?!
Well, march over and ask him, I told myself. There is no reason on God’s green earth for him to be here, and you need to find out what the heck is going on.
So I did, doing my best to ignore the tree frogs jumping around in my stomach. I walked up behind him and said, “Hey,” so loud it made him jump.
He whipped around. “How . . . why . . .” He blinked. “What are you doing here?”
“Wrong,” I said. I was vaguely aware of Kelly behind us, her sweet face concerned. “The question is, what are you doing here?”
He didn’t reply, and my brain started working overtime trying to supply answers. Did Patrick know this guy? Were they friends? If so . . . why, given that he was such a jerk?
Except I knew the answer to that one. Patrick was friends with Tommy, after all. That’s just how Patrick was. Accepting.
But any thought I had was pure speculation, which meant I was wasting my time, since what I needed were answers. Plus, the look library guy was giving me made me uncomfortable. It wasn’t that he seemed pissed or wanted to throttle me or anything. He looked . . . well . . . remorseful.
I didn’t want to talk in front of Kelly, so I strode away from the nurses’ station and motioned for him to follow. There was a red vinyl sofa next to the hospital elevator, and I dropped down into it, leaving plenty of room for him. He sat. He was very obedient. Or maybe just in shock.
I was certainly in shock. I never expected to see him again, and now here he was.
I gave my head a good hard shake. “So. You know Patrick?”
“Yeah,” he answered cautiously.
“Are you friends with him?”
He started to speak, but hesitated.
And then, finally, it dawned on me. When we first met, I hadn’t gotten the vibe that he was gay. But that was at the library, and now here he was at the hospital, asking to see Patrick.
“Are the two of you, um, together?” I said.
“Are we . . . what? No.”
I didn’t believe him. I didn’t not believe him, but I didn’t believe him.
He raked his hand through his hair, which was long enough