The Art of Losing(14)

Mom hadn’t let her careful veneer crack in front of Dad or me since the first night at the hospital. Not that it really mattered when it came to Dad. He had basically disappeared since the accident. He would stop by Audrey’s room because he was at the hospital, of course—but never for longer than five minutes at a time. He had always worked long hours—now he worked late every night. Though we weren’t gathering at the table for dinner anyway.

“Have you showered lately?” Mom asked.

I shook my head. I could feel the weight of my greasy ponytail. She had a point.

“Or eaten?”

My stomach rumbled at the suggestion, even though I’d been steadily clearing out the vending machine down the hall all day. I stood up.

“You’ll be here for a while?” I asked.

Mom nodded.

“Okay. Don’t leave until I come back.”

I took her silence as a complicit “yes.” She was already propping Audrey up so she could brush her hair. The ministrations would take a while.

“Drive carefully,” she said, her eyes focused on her task. An afterthought.

My chest tightened. I couldn’t help walking over to Mom and wrapping my arms around her.

“Oh, baby duck,” she said into my dirty hair. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom,” I said. And then, after a moment I added, “She’ll be okay.”

Mom nodded and withdrew, gently steering me toward the door. I got the hint. I was a mess. And smelly. But I wanted to leave, anyway. I was looking forward to smoking a cigarette on the drive home with the windows rolled down.

As I turned down our street, I wondered if Raf was home. If he’d want to join me. I never would have imagined the two of us would become smokers.

He was so much the same kid as he was ten years ago—he had the same mischievous glint to his eye and the same smile that tilted a little lower on the right side—but he was so much more mature. I mean, of course he was, he was eighteen not eight, but he was kind of sexy now.

As soon as the thought occurred to me, I hated myself for it.

I hadn’t even broken up with Mike yet. And he hadn’t stopped trying to reach me, even going so far as to call the house phone. But Mom always screened his calls. She hadn’t even had to ask.

The next morning—showered and changed, if not well-rested—I was parked in my usual spot in the chair next to Audrey’s bed when Cassidy pushed the door open. Her eyes were searching and wide with hope. But I shook my head and her face fell. Audrey was the same as she’d been the day before. The only change was that the swelling in her eyes had subsided and she was starting to look like herself again.

Cassidy sat down in the chair across the bed and kicked off her flip-flops, putting her feet up on the bed next to Audrey’s legs. She tucked a stray blonde curl into her messy bun.

“How are you, Harley?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Same,” I said. “You?”

She looked surprised that I remembered to ask. “I’m okay,” she said. But her lips were pulled into a tight frown.

Cassidy, who had been the junior class vice president, got chewed out by the school administration for hosting a party with alcohol and without chaperones. She told me that the school was embarrassed by the “incident.” The headmaster even left a message at our house. Mom erased it before I could listen, but she said he sounded upset. At least he and the rest of the faculty sent flowers to Audrey’s hospital room. If this had happened during the school year, they would have been obligated to hold an assembly about drunk driving and offer counseling to students. They got off light, I think. And so had Cassidy. She might have been suspended—or worse—if school was in session. Unfortunately for Cassidy, her parents had taken over, and she was grounded for the foreseeable future. I knew she was allowed to drive to work, though. She must have left a little early to come here and see me . . . to see us.

I was surprised that I hadn’t been grounded myself. I’d lied to Mom and Dad, a lie of omission anyway, since they weren’t aware that Cassidy’s parents weren’t home during the party. But I guess they had bigger things to worry about. I had basically grounded myself anyway, tying myself to Audrey’s bedside.

“Does anyone know about Mike and Audrey?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head. “No,” she said. “No one knows why he was driving her home. They just assume you asked him to.”

I nodded, relieved. I would much prefer that my friends and classmates blamed me than Audrey.

“So, um, speaking of Mike,” Cassidy said, “he stopped by the coffee shop yesterday.”

My eyes snapped up to her face. If he’d somehow found a way to hurt her or get between us, I would make him regret it. I’d march to his house and confront him at last. In front of his mom. Maybe steal his issue of The New Mutants #98. That would really piss him off.

“It’s okay,” Cassidy said, assuring me, “he just wanted me to ask you to call him. I didn’t make him any promises.”

“He shouldn’t be asking favors from you,” I said.

“The police charged him,” she said, as if that were an explanation. “With a DUI and reckless driving to start with, so he’ll lose his license.”

Good. He deserved worse.

“What else did he say?” I asked.