16 Things I Thought were True Part 3

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1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e I apply ChapStick and check my phone. A new follower.

Normally that would make me more excited. The lights change and Adam speeds ahead, pulling into the hospital entrance.

"I'll drop you off at the emergency entrance and go and park this thing," Adam tells me.

I nod, glad he came along. "Thanks," I manage, but it's barely above a whisper. I wonder if he knows how much I want to cling to him.

He smiles at me, as if he understands the things I'm not saying.

"When you walk inside, go straight past triage and take a right. Go down that hallway to the end and you'll find the information desk.

They can tell you where your mom is."

How does he know this?

"I've volunteered here," he says. He pulls up to the emergency entrance and stops the car. "What's your mom's name? I'll park and come find you."

I grab the door handle, almost reluctant to get out now that we're here. "Maggie. Maggie MacLean." I give him a last longing look, wis.h.i.+ng he could come with me and keep telling me what to do.

My heart races as I hurry into the emergency entrance. I glance around the packed room and automatically pull out my phone to text my brother, but a nurse yells at me to turn it off, pointing to a sign with a picture of a cell phone crossed out .

I hurry down the hall, find the information booth, and explain to the elderly woman perched on the seat that my mom's been brought in. She looks her up, tells me she's on the third floor, and then points me to the elevator.

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J a n e t G u r t l e r When I finally get to my mom's room, I find my brothers with their heads pressed close together. For the first time in a long time, I see how similar their faces are even though they're fraternal twins.

They look over, and their blue eyes open wider. Their worried expression is identical.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Jake brought her in," Josh says, and their differences become apparent again. Josh is wearing a coat from some trendy store.

Sungla.s.ses are perched on top of his fluffy head of hair. Last November, he grew a mustache for Movember to raise money for cancer, and the fur on his lip seemed to awaken some latent hippy gene. He bought the muscle car in the new year and kept the mustache. He claims the girls love it, and he never seems to be without one on his arm. But that's been true since he was fifteen.

Jake is wearing old jeans and a plain T- s.h.i.+rt he probably picked up off the floor that morning. His shoes are plain white Vans but he colored them with Sharpies. He has mad drawing skills and tends to fall deeply in love with one girl at a time. I totally see him married with children running around his feet in a few years.

"I had to call an ambulance," Jake says, "since you had Josh's car."

I grab his arm. "What happened?" I repeat.

"It's her heart." Jake scratches his closely shaved head. It's less a fas.h.i.+on statement and more because he hates hair product. The twins have thick, wavy hair, less curly than mine and much darker.

"I got home from lunch with my dad. Josh had a date. Mom was still home." He glances around at the walls of the hospital. "She

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1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e was having pains in her chest. She was scared." He glances at me.

"So I called 911."

"She was supposed to be at work," I say and it sounds stupid even as it leaves my mouth.

"She called in sick."

I frown. She never calls in sick. "Will she be okay?" The words tumble out in a rush.

"I don't know." Josh, who is never afraid of anything, who is never at a loss for words, sounds like a scared little boy. "They're running a bunch of tests. She's been complaining of being dizzy and short of breath for the past couple of weeks."

"She has?" I look around, wondering why she never said anything to me. Aren't moms supposed to tell their daughters that stuff?

There are footsteps in the hallway behind us, and I turn and see Adam. He pushes his gla.s.ses up his nose, but his shoulders are pushed back. He walks with confidence. For a moment, I can imagine him in the future- in a white doctor's coat with a stethoscope around his neck, walking the halls, in charge. I blink and he's a teenager again.

"He's obviously with you," Josh says, following my gaze.

I frown until I realize Adam's wearing a Tinkerpark employee s.h.i.+rt. "My boss," I mumble.

"How's your mom?" Adam says as he reaches us, and he stands beside me so we're in a semicircle in the narrow hospital hallway.

"It's her heart," I say and shake my head. "She's been dizzy and out of breath." I'm still trying to make sense of it.

Adam nods. "Have they done an angiogram?" he asks. I have no idea what he's talking about.

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J a n e t G u r t l e r "To check for blockage," he adds.

"Not yet," Jake answers. "They did a CT scan but didn't find anything.

They're setting up an angio as soon as they can get her in." I stare at Jake, a little surprised. He seems to be taking charge, and it's not the usual role for him. He scratches his chin and looks Adam in the eye. They're the same height. "Her blood pressure is through the roof," Jake tells Adam.

"So they're going to keep her here." He sticks out his hand. "I'm Jake."

I feel like my brother has become someone I don't even know anymore. Jake isn't a guy who talks so freely to people he doesn't know- and he doesn't give out personal information.

Adam shakes his hand. "Adam Ranard." He turns to Josh and shakes his hand too, but Josh doesn't introduce himself. I wonder if my brothers switched bodies.

"If they find a blockage, she'll need a stent. They'll do it during the angiogram," Adam says.

We all stare at him.

He lifts his shoulder. "I want to be a doctor. This stuff interests me." He hands me the car keys and a ticket stub. "I parked in the east lot. Level four. Near the exit."

Josh reaches over and removes the keys from my hand. "You let this dude drive my car?"

"He drove so I could try and figure out which hospital Mom was in. Jake didn't leave that info, and I couldn't reach either of you." I glare at both brothers.

"Sorry, Chaps. I was kind of distracted," Jake says. He calls me Chaps because of my addiction to cherry ChapStick. I have spare tubes tucked away everywhere.

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1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e Adam clears his throat and stands taller. "I drove your car carefully and parked it on an angle so no one can park close on either side."

Josh looks him in the eye for a moment and then nods.

"Okay. Thanks. Sorry. I'm a little freaked out here. Thanks for bringing Morgan."

Adam nods. "That car is sweet," he adds, and in spite of what's happening, I find it kind of funny that he cares about Josh's opin- ion so soon after meeting him. Even with his loopy '70s vibe, Josh has that effect on people.

"You want me to stay?" Adam asks me.

I shake my head, ignoring the way Jake looks, as if he wants him to. Adam walks to the nurse station down the hall to ask a nurse in pink scrubs sitting in a chair behind the desk some questions.

When he returns to where we're silently huddled, he smiles. He tells us a few rea.s.suring facts about heart disease and women, but we're all too freaked out to answer.

"Give me your phone," he says to me. I look at my brothers, but they step away from us, mumbling, and walk down the hallway so they're out of hearing range.

Adam holds out his hand. I dig into my pocket and hand the phone over. He punches his number into my contacts and hands it back.

He glances at his watch. "My dad said he'd pick me up on the way home from work and he'll be here soon," he says. "Call if you need anything. Or if you need to talk."

"Thanks," I tell him. "But I'm okay now."

He looks as me as if he knows I'm lying. He takes my shoulders

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J a n e t G u r t l e r and pulls me into his s.p.a.ce. The hug is completely unexpected. I smush against him, and his fingers press on the small of my back. I hold my hands awkwardly up, unsure where to put them.

After a split second, I'm able to relax. I rest my head on his shoulder. We stand there and it feels so good until, all of a sudden, he steps back. I stare into his eyes and he stares back, holding my arm.

I notice his long black eyelashes. He should wear contacts. Almost as if Adam can sense me thinking about how pretty his eyes are, he clears his throat and looks away. My cheeks burn.

"There's, uh, this girlfriend," Adam says as he glances around the hallway, and his voice cracks at the end of the sentence.

"Oh?" It's all I can think of. G.o.d, I'm such an idiot- my mom could be dying and I was getting all pervy over my boss.

"She wants to be a doctor too," he says, still looking around the pale- painted hallways, avoiding my eyes.

"Yeah, well. They say compatibility is important." I wonder if she's a douchebag too. But he left work early to drive me here. He's been helpful and kind and thoughtful. Not a douchebag at all. It's not his fault I reacted inappropriately to his hug. My anger isn't at him. It's at me for taking his kindness the wrong way.

"My girlfriend..." he starts to say.

"No. It's okay." Last thing I want is an explanation. I tap my fingers against my phone. "Thanks again. For driving me here.

And, well, for everything." I'm finally able to look at him again and attempt a smile, but my lips quiver and quit halfway up. "Sorry if I was being a b.i.t.c.h earlier. At work."

He adjusts his gla.s.ses up on his nose. "You were just standing up

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16 Things I Thought were True Part 3

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16 Things I Thought were True Part 3 summary

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