Send Me a Sign(28)

Not that I’d needed sixty minutes to figure this out. Or even sixty seconds. Meagan. Meagan Andrews. Her activities were listed beneath the yearbook photo with her glossy brown hair neatly tucked behind a headband and Lacoste polo shirt: student council, eco club, jazz band. She had a carefree smile on her face. The same smile she’d given Gyver at Iggy’s. It felt like it was mocking me. I slammed the cover so I wouldn’t have to look at her. I’d never realized how much I disliked her.

Stupid! I’d almost thought … He’d said, “We’re just friends” to Nurse Hollywood; but I hadn’t wanted to believe it. Though that was in the hospital, where I’d been drugged and delusional. This was real life. And there was Ryan to think about—though I really didn’t want to right now.

And in real life, Gyver and I didn’t make sense—not as a couple. What would the Calendar Girls say? Plus I’d agreed to Hil’s stupid stay-single pact. And my mother, with her dreams of Most Attractive Couple, Most Popular, and all those other superficial superlatives she’d received her senior year! I couldn’t expose him to their scrutiny.

Trade his friendship for something riskier? Could I even handle a relationship right now on top of everything else? He’d probably be better off with stupid Meagan; she didn’t come with as much baggage.

And if I failed to be everything he deserved, I’d hurt him.

I had to get over this. This had to be another piece of home-from-hospital readjustment.

I took his pick from my pocket, gave it one last squeeze, then dropped it on top of the tear-soggy tissues in my trash can.





Chapter 14

On Gyver’s second-to-last day of vacation, the last Friday of summer, Mom and I went to a meeting at East Lake High. A meeting about me—and how to accommodate my leukemia.

I hadn’t wanted to go. I wanted my hospital life and school life to stay separate from each other. I wanted to leave my illness at the hospital door and not deal with it until I returned in three weeks for my next round of chemo. I wanted to enter the lobby of East Lake High and be the same girl I’d been on the last day of school in June. I wanted the impossible.

After the meeting, Mom dropped me home on her way to work. Dad was waiting at the kitchen table, a notepad and pens all ready. “How’d it go?”

He’d had an open house that morning, and Mom was pissed he’d missed the meeting, but this worked out perfectly. Explaining it to Dad—logical, list-making Dad—would help it make sense to me. He was the perfect person to rehash this with.

Well, him or Gyver—but I needed to stop depending on Gyver so much. Hil would’ve been a good choice too; she’d get mama-bear protective and point out all the places Principal Baker’s idea of East Lake didn’t match the reality. But she clearly wasn’t an option.

I sat in the chair across from Dad and started with the worst part. “Principal Baker wanted to make a cause out of me. He had all these plans to make me a poster child for leukemia awareness, with assemblies and fund-raisers.”

Dad raised an eyebrow. “I assume your mom had some words to say about that.”

I nodded. “He’s probably already shredded all related documents.”

“God love her, your mother is a force of nature.” He laughed. “Then that’s resolved. Let’s focus on what’s in place. Let me see the paperwork.” Dad took the manila folder, um-hmming and nodding as he read through the provisions for extended absences, make-up work, and home care.

He took off his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This all looks pretty standard. It’s in line with what I’ve researched. Does it look good to you?”

“They wanted to change my schedule. Ms. Piper, the guidance counselor, suggested I drop my AP classes and take easier ones.”

“I bet your mom had something to say about that too. What do you think?”

I told him the same thing I’d told Ms. Piper and Principal Baker. “There’s nothing wrong with my brain.”

Dad nodded, looking satisfied. “This looks good, and we can always revisit it later if it needs changes. How about some lunch? Grilled cheese?”

I wanted more from him. Less logic and more acknowledgment that my high school experience was never going to be the same. These sheets of paper were documentation of how much had changed.

If I couldn’t have that, I needed a reprieve. A place to pretend this wasn’t going on. “No, thanks. I’m going to go have lunch with Hil.”

An hour at Iggy’s with a Diet Coke, salad, and Hil chattering about Keith leaving for college and whether or not she should’ve called to wish him luck was exactly what I needed.



“Hey.” There was a tap on my doorframe, and Gyver’s voice floated through the crack.

“Welcome back! How was Martha’s Vineyard?” My arms were full of clothes, so I nudged the door open with my foot. Jinx followed him into my room.

“Warm and beachy. Did you miss me?”

“Of course!” More than I’d admit; more than was acceptable. Dumping the clothes on my bed, I curled into a hug and inhaled his scent. When the embrace stretched to a length bordering on ridiculous, I stepped away and folded a shirt. “Look at your tan. I’m jealous.”

Gyver shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m Italian. Mom’s pleased the plants are looking green and leafy. She says thanks. What’s going on in here? Laundry?”