Beautiful: Truth's Found When Beauty's Lost Part 15

"Which is true? That you can't stand me, or that I'm your sister?"

"Both," they answered at the same time, and laughed.

"Who else knows?" Megan asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"I didn't tell. If anyone else knew, then everyone would know. It'd go viral, I'm sure."

Megan thought of Ellie reading the blog and knowing who wrote it, but not telling a soul. Her sis might be cooler than she gave her credit for. "Oh, hey, sorry about the P-words and all the comments."

Ellie was going home in the morning. That was supposed to spark her interest and make her happy again.

"I have a surprise for you," Mom said before she came around the curtain.

"Great," Ellie muttered with her eyes toward the covered window.

Light leaked through the edges around the curtains, and Ellie thought about a world of light. She wanted darkness now, like a nocturnal creature or a vampire. That was it: she was like a creature of the night, and sunlight burned her skin even while she was fascinated by and lonesome for that normal world that was no longer hers. Millions of people were out there in that light, doing all the things that created life for them. No one stopped to be grateful for simply being, for the freedom to walk outside the door as the sun came up, to ride a bike, brush their teeth, hang out at a park, or go to the beach. No one thought it special to get a coffee at Cocobeans or to go to work or school every day.

"Ellie," her mom said, and Ellie realized she'd been ignoring her. How she wished to ignore everyone and just live at peace in her head now. If only her head would offer some peace.

"What, Mom?"

"P Frank is here."

"Tell him I'm sleeping."

She turned her back when he came into the room, not even pretending to sleep.

P Frank was in his midtwenties. He dressed in baggy jeans and T-s.h.i.+rts with a jacket, looking more like an artist or writer than an ordained minister. He'd been at their church for two years. Ellie had been a youth group leader and had gone on several short-term mission trips under his leaders.h.i.+p.

"Your mom told me you're going home." He turned down his cell phone as he came in, which for some reason annoyed her.

Ellie nodded when he looked up at her. "Yep." She didn't want to talk to him today. If he talked about G.o.d being in control and having a plan, she thought she might throw her food tray at him.

"You know, everyone still asks about you, and we pray for you every week."

"Thanks."

"Do you want me to pray with you now?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out."

He paused at that, surprised at her bitter tone. Everyone liked the Ellie she was before the accident. Instead of praying, he took a seat, which also annoyed her. How many people had there been, coming in and sitting in a chair beside the invalid's bed? She wished people would just leave her alone.

Ellie glanced at him. "Did you know that I had a crush on you?" She hoped that would make him uncomfortable.

"You did," he stated more than asked.

She remembered being embarra.s.sed about liking him. He was a good-looking, single guy who not only loved G.o.d but truly tried to live a G.o.dly life-how many of those were there in the world? P Frank never hinted that there were mutual feelings, which of course made him even more attractive. Once Ellie heard one of the moms say that he'd better get himself a wife because the consistent affection of dozens of good-looking teenage girls was erosive to any man's moral fiber.

"When you first came. And again last summer." She'd been dating Ryan then, but on their trip to Mexico, her attraction to him had risen up once again.

"Yeah, I know."

She appreciated that he dropped the act. Of course he'd known. It was pretty obvious.

"Ellie, you are an amazing person."

She laughed at that. "It's okay. You don't have to let me down easy. I didn't mean it like that."

"I know. I just want you to know that I really think you're an amazing person. And I know G.o.d has a plan for your life."

"Oh, not that," she groaned. "Do you really think G.o.d is in control of our lives?"

"I do. Have you lost faith?"

"Not faith in G.o.d. Just faith in G.o.d as someone who really pays attention to the details of each life. It would be like paying attention to every ant in an anthill."

"Which isn't hard, because He's G.o.d."

"Yeah. Anyway, I don't want some deep discussion right now."

"I actually stopped by for a specific purpose. I went by your house first to bring you some mail." He pulled out a letter from his jacket pocket.

"Did I win the Clearinghouse Sweepstakes?"

"Better."

"Cool. Hand it over, then." Ellie took the envelope, hoping he'd leave.

"I asked permission to submit it a long time ago. Your mom helped."

"What?"

"The letter is from Scotts College."

"You and my mom submitted college applications for me?"

"No, we couldn't do that. It's for an overseas program. You'd have your pick of India, Africa, South America, or several countries in Eastern Europe. The doctors say you'll be healed enough to safely travel by next fall . . ."

Ellie held the envelope in her hand, staring at her name and address. Everything like before. She could just move on as if none of these months had taken place. Except, of course, for the fact that her leg pain still kept her limping and half of her face would frighten the children of whatever lucky country she chose. They'd have her seared into their memories; that was certain.

"Sounds just great." She set the envelope on the bed.

"Give it time. It might be really good for you to get out. Pray about what you should do."

Ellie nodded and let P Frank pray for her. She couldn't wait for him to leave.

Chapter 13.

THE OUTSIDER.

The Anonymous Blog about Life at West Redding High February 4

Comments: I totally agree. People suck.

You need some therapy, Outsider.

Save the whales!

This blog could make money with advertis.e.m.e.nts and affiliate marketing. www.makeamillionb4graduation.com This blog is depressing. I love it!

The life of the hospital went on as it always did, as it had before she'd come and would after she left. It wouldn't notice that Ellie Summerfield was gone, just as it hadn't noticed the kids who didn't leave or went out to the morgue. Such was life in the hospital, as well as life itself, Ellie thought as Dad pushed her out of the pediatric ward amid waves from the nurses, Natty, and her mother. Natty was leaving to look for her baby birds in a few days.

Ellie sank into the wheelchair seat and leaned to the left when she noticed the sideways stares as they moved through the main hospital population. Look at that poor girl, she imagined they thought. What a shame.

Ellie could walk fine. The wheelchair only made her appear further disabled, but this was hospital policy. Megan followed, pus.h.i.+ng a cart with Ellie's belongings and the last of Ryan's flowers.

"Just a stop at the pharmacy for your long list of medicines, and we're out of here," Mom said cheerily.

Another woman waited in her wheelchair near the counter with a baby in her arms. A man, who Ellie presumed was the woman's husband, stood at the window and talked to the pharmacist at the cash register.

The mother stared down at the pink-colored bundle in her arms, adjusting the little hat with an expression of utter contentment.

Then she noticed Ellie. Her eyes leaped up to Mom and Dad, then down to her child. She smiled slightly, trying to recover.

"Oh, a little one," Mom said in her quick, nervous tone. "How old is she?"

"Two days," the woman said proudly, glancing at Ellie again.

The husband turned to his wife, holding up the little bag with a smile. When he saw them-or rather, when he saw Ellie-his expression faltered too.

From the pharmacy to the entrance of the hospital, Ellie wanted to hide beneath a blanket. She tried to pretend she didn't notice the stares and curiosity that caused people to look her way.

Mom talked incessantly. "Say good-bye to the hospital. No more hospital for us. No more cafeteria food or hard hospital chairs."

Ellie wanted to remind her that they'd be back not just once, but a number of times for all the surgeries that waited ahead.

"I'll go get the car," Dad said, giving her good shoulder a squeeze before he hurried ahead.

Megan pushed the wheelchair now, while Mom pushed the cart. They reached the lobby, where a surprising number of people were coming and going. Ellie kept her eyes ahead.

A little girl holding her mom's hand looked at Ellie. Her mouth dropped, and she tugged on her mother's sleeve. "Mommy! What's wrong with that lady? She looks like a monster."

Megan pushed the chair faster. Mom said, "Slow down. I can't go that fast."

"Let's wait for Dad outside."

Ellie breathed in the first real fresh air she'd had in months. But she couldn't enjoy it or the evening rain turning the air fresh and new, not with cars driving up and people walking in and out of the automatic doors. Her heart was racing, and she couldn't get a full breath into her lungs. She wanted to slink down into the chair or race back to her room, to the curtains on her window and the curtain around her bed. The world was too expansive, too busy, too full of people.

Dad drove up. Ellie stood and walked toward the car as quickly as she could. As she got inside, unexpectedly her heart raced even faster. The gentle engine and feel of the seat reminded her of Stasia's car. Leaning her head toward her knees, she tried to breathe.

Calm down, Ellie. Slow down. Don't hyperventilate.

Mom closed the door, locking her inside. "You're going home!" she said.

Megan was looking at her, shaking her head. "You okay?" she asked from beside Ellie, a vase of flowers in her hand.

Ellie couldn't respond. If she did, she might start screaming or crying. Megan helped her get her seat belt on; then no one spoke as they drove away. Even Mom finally understood.

Thankfully, there were no balloons, banners, or cla.s.smates lining her driveway. Perhaps the rain had kept them home, or else someone had finally put a stop to the horrid plans. Home was so familiar and yet so strangely far away, as if she'd gone off to college for several years and was returning for the first time. She had changed. It had not.

Dad held the umbrella. Megan raced into the rain to open the front door.

"We'll get the rest later," Dad said as they hurried inside.

Ellie was glad for the rain. The suns.h.i.+ne she once loved felt harsh now, too bright, too hot, like a spotlight revealing all her mutilated places. She wished to live in the darkness now, where her scars weren't so noticeable. Perhaps people who gravitated toward darkness, toward the black clothing and makeup, were all about hiding something-pain, insecurities, fears, trauma. A half-burned face.

Ellie entered the front door and stopped in the entryway.

"Welcome home!" Mom and Dad said in unison, and Ellie noticed the banner hanging across the stairwell. Megan said it, too, then disappeared toward the kitchen.

The stairs stretched upward. The living room went off to the right, the kitchen and dining room to the left. She'd always thought her house was cozy, even if she wanted to modernize her mom's traditional decor that included Thomas Kinkade pictures and silk flowers.

"You guys changed it around," she stated, looking into the living room.

"Yeah, remember the TV broke last month," Mom said, but Ellie didn't remember because she hadn't been there. "We changed the furniture around when we got the flat screen and the new entertainment console."

Ellie hated the change. The coming home was hollow and cold. She wondered where Ryan was, and whether he knew she'd been released. That she thought of him surprised her. She wanted him here, jumping out from behind the couch, ignoring the fact that she was ignoring him. He'd stopped calling after a few final attempts. And though Ellie had stared at the hospital phone, wis.h.i.+ng it would ring, and had started a number of e-mails, in the end she knew it was better this way.