Wing Jones(33)

“What?”

“Your breath stinks,” I say, like it’s an apology.

“Wing, were you and Aaron visiting Marcus? Without me?”

“What? No! Of course not!” I pause. “Monica, you know I’ve been to see Marcus, right? Without you?” Family only, the doctors say, but I bet if Monica came with us, she could charm her way in there, the way she charms herself into anywhere. But she hasn’t been by to see us to ask to come with us, and I wonder if it’s because she doesn’t want to intrude. Monica should know that she can’t intrude on us; if anything, sometimes it feels like our whole family is intruding on her and Marcus, the way they look at each other like there is no one else, and I mean no one else, in the room, in the house, in the whole world. She could never intrude. She shoulda known that and come round before last night. But she’s here now and I guess that’s what matters.

“And how would Aaron and I sneak into the hospital at five a.m.?” I smile a little, trying to show her how ridiculous she’s being.

She raises an eyebrow. “Well, you are certainly sneaking around doing something…” She pulls back and looks me up and down, her eyes darting over the football jersey and the running shorts and back up to my hair, which has poufed out to almost twice its normal size since I didn’t have a rubber band to tie it up. “Wing. What the hell is going on?”

I tell her the truth. Or at least, as much of the truth as I can. I don’t tell her that I’ve got a dragon and a lion waking me up every night, or about my feelings for Aaron, but I do tell her that since the accident I haven’t been able to sleep and I’ve been running at night.

Monica is less skeptical about the running bit than Aaron was. Maybe because she hasn’t seen it. Doesn’t know just how fast I go.

Or maybe it’s because she’s a better friend and believes I’m capable of doing something like running at night.

She is, however, highly skeptical of the fact that I just happened to run into Aaron on the field. Her line of questioning starts to make me think that she suspects my whole running thing is about seeing him.

“Wing, honey, didn’t you know that Aaron likes to go running at night?” she says, and there’s a touch of pity in her voice, like a pat of butter scraped over burnt toast. Like she knows what she’s saying is going to make me feel like crap but maybe if she says it in a nice way it won’t.

I think you shouldn’t serve burnt toast at all, but that’s just my opinion.

“I didn’t know,” I say, even as a memory of him mentioning it slots into my brain. “But, Mon, it isn’t about Aaron. I like it. The running. And I think … I think I might be good at it.”

“I’m sure you are, sweetie. But you can’t go out running in the middle of the night.” A slow smile spreads over her face. “Even if you know that Aaron’ll be around to be your knight in shining armor.”

“I don’t need no knight in shining armor,” I snap back. My exhaustion is finally catching up with me, making me lazy with my language. “I’ve got a dragon!” Apparently I’m also sloppy about what secrets I tell.

“Wing, honey, you know I don’t always get your metaphors.” Monica has that same slow smile on, the one I can picture her using on her kids someday when they’ve done something stupid or silly and she has to chastise them but doesn’t want to make them feel bad. Like “Oh, Marcus Junior, sweetie, you can’t eat a whole tub of peanut butter all by yourself.” Or “Little Monica, don’t you know that Santa only comes if you’ve been good?”

Thinking about Marcus and Monica’s children makes my heart hurt. Because I don’t know if there will be a Mini Monica and a Marcus Junior. I lean toward Monica, and even though I’m all sweaty hair and sticky skin and smelly jersey, I hug her tightly around the shoulders.

“What was that for?” she asks, but she’s grinning.

“I’m just happy you’re here.”

“So you really aren’t going to tell me the truth about these nightly rendezvous with Aaron?”

“There aren’t any nightly rendezvous!” I protest. “Seriously. Tonight was the first night I’ve seen him.”

“All right,” she says, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.

“I swear,” I say. I think of something to swear on, something sacred enough, and she looks up at me and I know we’re thinking the same thing.

Do you swear on Marcus’s life?

“I swear,” I repeat.

“Well,” she says, and the word is heavy and light all at the same time. “I bet it won’t be the last.”





CHAPTER 20


A secret, I quickly learn, is much more fun if you have someone to share it with.

I thought I loved running before, but now … it is about so much more than just the running.

I don’t rely on my dragon and my lioness to wake me up anymore. I set an alarm so I’m ready to slip out and meet Aaron. My dragon and my lioness don’t come to the track as much either. Sometimes I’ll see the shadow of my dragon above me, or think I see my lioness ahead of me in the dark, but now that I’ve got Aaron running alongside me, I barely even miss them. And every time he drops me off home, one or both of them are waiting for me under the porch, their eyes glowing in the dark like the night-light I used to have next to my bed.