The sound of someone in the hallway pulls me back from the abyss. I quickly gather the letters, stacking the new one on top of the others, but I don’t have time to put them back in my closet before there’s a soft knock on my door. I don’t know why I keep it a secret; maybe I’m afraid of what everyonewould say if they knew. Especially since they all want me to focus on the future and believing I have decades of life still ahead of me. Writing yearly letters of grief to the family who gave me the heart probably won’t convince them that I’m as mentally healthy as they want me to be.
I swipe at my cheeks, hoping whoever is up won’t be able to tell I’ve been crying. I figure it’s Lou since we’re going to the gym together, so I can’t disguise the jolt of surprise when I open my door and Hunter is standing there, looking even more broad than normal in a fitted black tech shirt he often wears running.
“I was trying to be quiet, but I saw your light—you’re up early. Everything okay?” He studies me, his gaze shadowed, even with the light from my room spilling out over him. I hope because I’m backlit, he won’t notice if my eyes are still a little red.
“You’re up early too.”
“Yeah,” he says. “At the risk of sounding like I’m eight instead of twenty-eight, I had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep.”
Thereisa tightness about him; his shoulders are tense, his mouth drawn.
“Must have been some nightmare.”
“Why areyouup?” he deflects, peering more closely at me. “Have you been crying?”
“No,” I say too quickly, looking down. “I, um, yawned a bunch. I woke up before my alarm and decided since I’m leaving for the gym soon anyway, I might as well get up and get ready.”
When I dare glance up, Hunter’s gaze has moved past me to the stack of letters sitting in the glow of my lamp. There’sa question on his face when his eyes meet mine again. But he doesn’t question me.
“I’m heading out for a run,” is all he says. “Try to clear my head.”
“Okay.” I kind of hope he’s going to kiss me but realize I probably have terrible morning breath and then hope heisn’tgoing to. But it still stings when he merely nods and turns on his heel to jog down the stairs.
He pauses almost at the bottom and turns back to me. “By the way, you’re not the type to do pranks on April Fool’s Day, are you?”
“No.” My brow furrows. It might be a deal-breaker if he says he loves pranks.
“I’m glad to hear that. Neither am I.”
I’m relieved I don’t have to worry about saran wrap on the toilet seat or salt in the sugar container or stupid things like that.
“Well ... have a good workout.”
“Thanks. Have a good run.”
He nods, and then he’s gone, leaving me standing in my doorway, a little baffled at the odd exchange and lack of kiss or hug or anything. But then Lou emerges from her room, looking like something a raccoon hauled out of a garbage can, her hair sticking out at all angles and mascara smeared across her face, and the sight makes me burst out laughing.
“Shut up,” she growls as she shlumps her way to the bathroom. “I’m giving up my beauty sleep for you. I hope you appreciate it.”
“It wasn’tmyidea,” I point out. “Talia is the one who thinks we all need to celebrate my ability to lift weights together.”
But Lou’s only response is to shut the bathroom door.
The steady hum of the machines in Farmor’s room are even more difficult to listen to today than normal—a reminder of what my life was before my transplant. I hold her hand in mine and track any movement in her eyes. She sometimes reacts when I talk to her. In those moments, I can almost believe sheisgoing to wake up.
“Any day!” the doctors keep promising us.
But she still hasn’t done more than squeeze my hand the one time.
“I haven’t read any more of your journal,” I admit quietly to her. “I’m too scared. I’m afraid if you don’t wake up, whatever I read in there might make me hate my grandpa. And you won’t ever be able to tell me why you stayed.” I trace the veins on her hand with my fingertip. “Please, Farmor. Please, wake up.”
Her eyes flutter, and my breath catches—and then ... nothing.
There are several seconds of nothing but the beeping of the machines tracking all her vitals. I wait.
And wait.
“I gave Hunter another chance, like I promised you. Actually,” I say, “more likemultiplechances. But you were right. So you need to wake up and tell me, ‘I told you so!’ Andthentell me what I should do now. Because I’m totally falling for him ... and I’m so scared. I’m trying to do what everyone says and assume I’ll live a long time. It’s not that simple though.”I wish it were.
