Five Feet Apart(50)

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Will. Happy birthday to you!”

And many more. I mouth the words to him. They’ve never had more feeling behind them than right now.

“Sorry it’s a pie!” Poe says, smiling at him. “I’m good, but baking a cake in an hour is definitely out of my league.”

“It’s amazing, Poe. Thank you so much,” Will says, smiling back at him and then eyeing the candles warily. “If I blow them out, then you guys can’t eat it.”

His eyes flick between me and Poe, and we nod solemnly.

Hope leans over, blowing out the candles. She ruffles Will’s hair, smiling at him. “I made a wish for you!”

He smiles back at her, winking. “I hope it involves Stella popping out of a birthday cake in a bikini!”

Everyone laughs and Mya pulls out her phone and a selfie stick, holding her arm out to take a group photo. We crowd together, the best we can while keeping a safe CF distance. The second the camera clicks—BOOM.

The frosted-glass door behind us slams open, all of us jumping in shock and spinning around to see . . . Barb. Uh-oh. She stares at us, and we stare back at her. Everyone too stunned to say anything.

Poe clears his throat. “Hi, Barb. We thought you were off tonight. Can we make you a plate? Stella’s just about to start the entertainment.”

Barb must be doing a double today. I’m sure it’s not an accident she kept that quiet. She knows me. And she knew it was Will’s birthday. Fuck.

She stares at us, speechless, rage overflowing from every feature on her face. She points at the three of us, and my heart goes haywire.

“Up. Now.”

We stand slowly, walking over to her. She shakes her head, looking around at us, words failing her.

“Follow me.” She starts walking out, swinging through the door and back across the cafeteria.

We shoot small waves good-bye in Hope and Jason and Mya and Camila’s direction, before following her out. This is bad. I’ve seen Barb mad or upset on plenty of occasions. But not like this. This is another kind of scary.

We follow her down the hallway. I shoot a worried look over at Will, and he mouths, “It’ll be okay.” But his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You’re all confined to your rooms while we get respiratory cultures,” she says, spinning around to face Will. “And you. You’ll be transferred in the morning.”

“No!” I say, and her eyes swing over to meet mine. “No, Barb, it wasn’t Will’s fault—”

She holds up her hand, cutting me off. “You may be willing to gamble with your lives, but I’m not.”

There’s a thunderous silence, and then Poe laughs. We all look over at him, and he shakes his head, completely unfazed. He meets my eyes and gives me a big smile. “Just like when we were kids—”

“You’re not kids anymore, Poe!” Barb shouts, stopping him midsentence.

“We were careful, Barb,” he says, shaking his head, his voice serious. “We were safe. Just like you taught us to be.” He gestures to the distance we’re keeping from one another even now.

He coughs. A quick, short cough, and then adds, “I’m sorry, Barb. But it was fun.”

She opens her mouth to say something, and then quickly closes it, spinning around to take us the rest of the way to our floor. Nobody says a single word for the rest of the trip. I look over at Will. I want to get closer, but that’s exactly what got us into trouble in the first place.

We all go off to our respective rooms, Poe winking at me and Will before ducking inside. Barb giving me a final disappointed look before my door swings shut.

*

As the clock ticks closer and closer to midnight, I watch Will, fast asleep on the other side of my laptop screen, his face calm, peaceful. I rub my eyes, sleepy from the long day of planning for his party and getting caught by Barb. We don’t hang up because we know soon he’ll be far away in isolation. No more midnight walks. No more exercise room. No more slipping notes under doors. Nothing.

My eyelids are slowly shutting when an alarm blares over the speaker, jolting me awake.

“Code blue. All available personnel—”

I jump up, running to the door so I can hear the garbled words of the announcement. Oh god. A code blue. Someone’s heart has stopped working. And there aren’t that many of us on this floor right now.

As I swing open the door, the announcement is repeated again, clearer now that I’m in the hallway.

“Code blue. All available personnel to room 310. Code blue.”

Room 310.

Poe. Please tell me he just didn’t put the monitor on right again.

I clutch at the wall, the room spinning as a rapid response team pushes a crash cart past me. I see Julie following them into Poe’s room, her shift just starting. Barb’s voice calls out, somewhere in the distance, “He’s not breathing! There’s no pulse. We have to move fast.”

This can’t be happening.

I start to run, stumbling to his room. I see his legs on the floor, his feet falling in two different directions. No. No, no, no.

Barb is covering his body, pushing air into his lungs with a bag valve mask. He isn’t breathing. Poe isn’t breathing.

“Come on, baby, don’t do this to me!” she shouts as another voice yells, “Place defibrillator pads!”