I swallow hard. My future hangs in my throat.
“He’s tired,” she continues. “Exhausted from years of managing this. But I promise you something—” She meets my gaze. “I have never seen my son happier. Not when hewon the state championship in high school. Not when he dated other women. Not when he won the Super Bowl with the Heavyweights.”
My chest tightens painfully.
“Why are you giving up?” I whisper before I can stop myself. “My mom wouldn’t have?—”
I freeze. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
My dad steps forward, steady and calm. “Your mom would tell you the same thing Mrs. Stricker just did,” he says gently. “Give him room. He only wants your happiness.”
I shake my head fiercely. “I’m not letting him die. Not like this. Who can we call? Can he get another kidney? Can one of you—” My voice rises, desperate now. “Matt doesn’t get to die on me.”
I glance down at my ring. At my belly.
“Not when we have so many milestones left.”
We stand in silence, and my dad holds me, rubs my back, strokes my hair, and assures me that Matt loves me. I don’t know how much time has passed when the doctor approaches.
“Noelle, we’re not sure how long this will hold,” he says carefully. “And we’re still fine-tuning the medication. But his blood pressure is rising into normal ranges. We’re not quite there yet… but there’s reason to be hopeful.”
Hope.
The word nearly buckles my knees.
I hug my dad hard. “Call Greyson and J.D.”
Parker appears then, backpack slung over one shoulder, eyes wide. “Can I see him?”
“Wash up,” the nurse says. “Mask up. I’ll sneak you in,” she adds. “If it’s all right with Noelle.”
When we reach Matt’s room, Parker drops his bag with a soft thud. I hold up a finger. To be quiet.
“Do you mind if I talk to him alone… if he wakes up?”
I nod. “Of course.”
Matt stirs, and when he opens his eyes, I hover just outside the open door, listening.
“You better not be missing school because of me,” Matt murmurs. “I’m not that important.”
“Oh, you’re important,” Parker says without hesitation. “I can’t imagine my sister if you die.”
The word lands like a punch.
Die.
Parker said it out loud. Maybe I’m the only one still pretending it’s impossible.
“I’m fighting,” Matt says quietly. “I just don’t know if it’s enough. Talk to me about school. I’m sick of talking about me.”
Parker sighs. “Well, I’m failing physiology. The athletic department assigned me a tutor. They want to make sure I can play in the championship game.”
“Okay?” Matt asks.
“The waitress from the pizza parlor. She’s in two of my classes and she sits in the front row. Passes me like she doesn’t remember me. Smartass. Kind of bland. Nothing special.”
Bland? Nothing special?
