“She didn’t show up,” I gasp on an intake of air.
“I know,” is his apologetic reply.
“How do you know?” I ask as I try to stifle another sob.
He pulls back just far enough that he can look me in the eye. “I never mailed the invitation, Toby.”
“You couldn’t find her?” I ask, suddenly afraid to hear the answer.
“No. I found her,” he says as he pushes the hair back from my eyes. “I didn’t give it to her because I was selfish. I wanted to be there instead.”
“What?” I ask because this doesn’t make any sense. And then anger starts to boil in the pit of my stomach. “That wasn’t your choice to make, Johnny.”
His eyes drop to the floor.
Mine follow his there.
We can’t look at each other.
When I try to pull away, he won’t let me. “Let me go,” I insist quietly.
His eyes are still on the floor, but he shakes his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Let me go,” I repeat. The anger swelling. The exhaustion unendurable.
He’s still shaking his head, but now it’s accompanied by tears sliding down his cheeks. “No,” he says softly.
“Shewas supposed to be there!Not you!” I shout.
Which brings in my favorite nurse. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to keep your voice down or leave,” she snaps.
Mr. Street’s quiet voice drifts in behind hers. It sounds distant. My body wants so badly to sleep. “Take him home, Johnny. He needs to sleep. Badly.”
Johnny is still holding my arm when he answers him. “I heard your message when Cliff and I got home from graduation, but your apartment was empty, so I figured you drove yourself to the hospital. How are you?”
“Pneumonia,” Mr. Street answers on a cough. “And Toby drove me.”
Johnny’s attention shifts back to me. “You don’t have a license.”
The effort it takes to shrug is too much and my eyes drift closed despite the anger still pulsing through me. “I don’t know how to drive either, but we made it.”
Johnny looks back to Mr. Street. “How’s your blood count? Have they talked to your doctor?”
I’m beginning to think I’m in an alternate universe. How does he know all of this?
“They’ve drawn blood, I’ll know more soon. They’ve put a call into Dr. Thomas. Take Toby home. He needs you right now.” He’s putting my needs ahead of his fear.
Johnny nods. “Do you need anything before we go?”
Mr. Street’s brave smile emerges, and he holds up the photo in his hand. “I have everything I need.”
Johnny puts his arm around me and guides me toward the door. I want to fight, but I can’t. So I go with him.
At the door Mr. Street says, “Thank you, Toby. You saved my life today. Go get some sleep. And when you wake up, talk to Johnny. He’s a good listener.”
I nod, or at least I think I do.
“Johnny?”
