Love and First Sight(62)

“Billions?” Whitford laughs.

“For real. Look it up,” says Nick.

We pass a casino shaped like a castle, and finally reach one named for a city in Egypt.

“It’s a triangle,” I say, thinking of Cecily.

“A pyramid, actually,” says Nick. “Which is like four triangles laid—”

“I know what a pyramid is,” I interrupt. “I just don’t always recognize what I know.”

“My bad. Well, here’s something you probably won’t recognize: In front of the pyramid is a model of the Great Sphinx.”

“Half scale?”

“No, actually. This one is double the size of the original.”

“How do you know all this stuff?”

“You don’t get to be captain of the academic quiz team without an ability to store an endless number of useless facts.”

We stay in a cheap hotel in the old downtown that night.

In the car the next morning, Ion asks, “You nervous?” Today’s the day we reach LA.

“About Cecily?”

“Yeah.”

“Terrified.”

“I don’t blame you. It’s a big conversation.”

“I just hope I say the right thing.”

“It’s not about what you say, Will.”

“What’s it about, then?”

“Listening.”

I nod. “I guess.”

She continues, “And it’s a good thing you can see now, because listening is about a lot more than just what you do with your ears.”

“Thanks. Just what I need. More stuff to worry about,” I say.

“You’ll be fine,” says Ion. “Just remember: Don’t talk. Listen. With your ears and your eyes and your heart.”

“Don’t worry, I’m already soaking up everything I can with my eyes these days.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

I look around the car. “There’s something I haven’t told you guys.”

I close my eyes and run my fingers across my eyelids, wishing there was something I could do to get rid of the swelling behind the corneas. “My body is rejecting the transplant. There’s a good chance I will go back to being blind.”

“Oh, man,” says Whitford.

“Will, I’m so sorry,” says Ion. “What are the chances—”

“Fifty percent,” I say. “A fifty-fifty chance I go back to the way I was before.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” says Nick.

I start to protest that it does matter quite a bit whether I can see or not, but he catches his own poor choice of words.

“Sorry, that came out wrong. What I mean is, it doesn’t matter to our friendship whether or not you can see. We were friends before, we’re friends now, we’ll be friends whatever happens.”

“Thanks, man,” I say, reaching for his shoulder. “That means a lot.”

“Who knows?” adds Nick. “If you’re lucky, maybe we’ll even let you join the academic quiz team.”

“What? And be stuck at nerd tournaments with you losers?” I say to lighten the mood. Everyone laughs.





CHAPTER 30


We finally arrive in Los Angeles, where traffic slows us to a crawl.

“So, how exactly are we going to find her?” asks Nick.

“Cecily said her dad lived near Venice Beach. Six blocks from the ocean,” I say.

“GPS can get us to Venice Beach, but that could be a lot of houses,” says Nick.

“Well, I’ll need your help for that,” I say. “She also said it was a corner lot with a yellow house and a red surfboard on the porch. I don’t think I could pick all that out from a moving car.”

“No problem, we got you,” says Nick.

We weave through the narrow streets of Venice Beach for about three hours. Eventually we find it. The house is such a big bright yellow that even I can see it. And once we are parked out front, I can identify the splotch of red on the porch, too.

“We’ll wait out here,” says Ion. “But if you need anything, we’re here for you.”

“I know you are,” I say.

I’m able to walk without my cane, albeit slowly, across the sidewalk, through the front gate, and up to the porch. I stand there for a moment. What am I going to say? It all comes down to this. We’ve driven halfway across the country, and I’m standing here, and this is my one chance to apologize and win her back. I look over at my friends waiting in the car. I can’t really see them, but the glance is instinctual, like I know it’s what I am supposed to do. It’s where I am supposed to look for support.

I knock and wait.

I hear footsteps behind the door.

Then it opens and she’s standing there.

I wish I was better at reading facial expressions. Is she happy to see me? Angry? Shocked?

Knowing she’s right in front of me makes me feel unsteady. I reach out a hand to grab the porch railing.

“Will?” she says, her voice registering complete confusion.

I’m not sure what I was planning to say, but I blurt out, “Ces, it’s so good to see you.”

I start to raise my arms to hug her but stop myself as she says, “What are you doing here?”