One of Us Is Next(49)
Ashton nods, her pretty face somber. “Yeah. It was a boy named Brandon Weber. Did you know him?”
There’s a loud thud from near the door. Phoebe, who’d been gathering all our backpacks and bags from where we’d left them, goes rigid with shock and they fall from her hands.
* * *
—
Two hours later, we finally get to see Knox.
Only family was allowed to visit at first, and his parents and sisters had to go in shifts. Information has been coming in spurts, and we’re not sure how much is true. But a few things are starting to repeat consistently, both on the news and in the texts flying across our phones.
One: Brandon died trying to take a shortcut through the construction site.
Two: Sean, Jules, and Monica were all with him at the time.
Three: Knox has a concussion but is otherwise fine.
Four: Sean Murdock saved Knox’s life by knocking him to the ground when he tried to rush after Brandon.
“Sean Murdock.” Phoebe keeps repeating the name like she’s never heard it before. She’s sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Her eyes are glazed, her cheeks pale. She looks almost catatonic, and I don’t think the news about Brandon has sunk in yet. It hasn’t for me, either. “You’re telling me Sean Murdock saved Knox’s life.” She says it like you’d say, You’re telling me dogs can now talk and drive cars.
Addy wrinkles her brow. “Sounds familiar, but I don’t remember him.”
“He’s—” I almost finish with a total asshole but stop myself in the nick of time. Whatever else happened, Sean lost his best friend today. And might have saved Knox’s life, although I’m having as hard a time as Phoebe is wrapping my brain around that one. “He was Brandon’s friend. He and Knox are…not close.”
Knox’s sister Kiersten emerges from the hospital corridor, followed by two of his other sisters. Kiersten’s eyes search the waiting area until they land on me. “Maeve, we’re going to meet up with my parents in the cafeteria for a while. Knox is getting tired, but he’s still okay to see people. Do you and your friends want to say hello?” She smiles so kindly that I’m positive she has no clue about the texting game, or what’s been going on between me and Knox over the past couple of days. “He’s right around the corner in room 307.”
I jump to my feet, pulling Phoebe and Addy with me. “Yes, please. How is he?”
“He’ll be fine,” Kiersten says reassuringly. “They’re keeping him overnight for observation, but everything looks good.” Then her resolutely cheerful expression slips a little. “Well, almost everything. Prepare yourself. Poor kid’s face is a little rough.” She squeezes my arm as we pass by her.
Hospitals make me anxious, and I need to take a second to steel myself at the door to Knox’s room. This section of Bayview Memorial doesn’t look anything like the cancer ward, which is a lot more modern and high-tech, but the antiseptic smell and harsh fluorescent lighting are the same. I absorb the details of the room—the outdated pastel paint job, the framed print of a sad-looking vase full of sunflowers, the ceiling-mounted television in one corner, the thin curtain separating an empty bed from Knox’s—before my eyes settle on him. Then I gasp.
“I know,” Knox says through puffy lips. “I’ve looked better.”
He’s in regular clothes with only a small bandage on one side of his head, but his face is almost unrecognizable. One eye is blackened and half-closed, his nose is red and swollen, and the entire right side of his face is a giant bruise. I drop into the chair beside his bed and try to grab hold of his hand, but he tucks it beneath the threadbare blanket before I can.
I can’t tell if it’s coincidental timing or purposeful avoidance, and I remind myself it doesn’t matter. At least he’s okay. “What happened?” I ask, at the same time Phoebe says, “Sean did this?” She drags a chair from the corner of the room and drops into it beside me.
“Not so many questions at once,” Addy says. “When I had a concussion, that kind of thing gave me an instant headache.” She’s still standing, her eyes on the television screen in the corner. “Hang on. They’re about to interview Sean Murdock.” She leans over me to pick up the remote on Knox’s bedside table and points it toward the television to turn up the volume.
“Fantastic,” Knox says flatly as we all look up.
Liz Rosen from Channel Seven is holding a microphone out to Sean, who’s standing with his hands clasped like he’s about to pray. They’re in front of someone’s house, the twilight sky a deep blue behind them. The words LIVE UPDATE: LOCAL TEEN RECALLS FATAL ACCIDENT flash along the bottom of the screen as Liz says, “Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, Sean, after such a traumatic day. Can you tell us in your own words what happened?”
Sean towers over Liz. He hunches his shoulders like he’s trying to make himself look smaller and says, “It’s all kind of a blur, but I’ll try. A bunch of us were at the mall, and then we wanted to go downtown. We were trying to save a little time, and—God, that sounds so stupid now, doesn’t it? Like, we should’ve just walked the regular way. But we’d cut through the site before. Lots of kids do it; we didn’t think anything of it. Anyway, Bran was joking around like always, and then he jumped, and then…” Sean ducks his head and puts a hand to his temple, obscuring his face. “Then all of a sudden he wasn’t there.” Phoebe makes a strangled little noise beside me, and I reach for her hand. Unlike Knox, she lets me take it.