18 Thoughts (My So-Called Afterlife Book 3) (3 page)

I shook my head in frustration. “Look, Olga. I’m all for shutting up, but that’s gonna have to work both ways, all right?”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t said a word.” Her voice was quiet.

Why is it that if there are freaks within a mile radius, they find me? Maybe I should call a nurse to check on him. Maybe he needs a nice sponge bath to calm down. Baths always relax me. I could offer to help. Ugh! Seriously. What’s wrong with me? Yes, he’s hot, but he’s also a freak. You’re at the top of the class, Olga. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out you should stay away from him. Read to Conner, and forget about Nate. Or maybe I should get another coffee first. I must be suffering from sugar withdrawal. That’s why I’m having all these thoughts. Or maybe I need therapy like Mom suggested.

I placed my hands over my ears, longing for the hours of quiet boredom I had all day. The walls closed in on me, the room getting smaller by the second. “Go to therapy, visit Conner, drink some coffee, or go to the bathroom. Whatever you do, try to shut up for like two seconds. I can’t believe I apologized to you for talking too much.”

“Excuse me?” She sucked in a deep breath but hesitated before saying anything else for a few seconds, and I basked in the silence. “Do you need me to get a doctor for you? Or some pills?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my stance of defiance, and winced from the pain instantly shooting up my ribs. “You’re the one who needs pills! You never shut up!”

“I barely said a word.”
I better get out of here.

Was this girl sniffing too much glue or something? The sound of a chair scraping against the floor alerted me to the fact that she was getting ready to leave. I wished I could see her. “Oh, really? I suppose some other silly girl who sounds exactly like you rambled on about giving me a sponge bath?”

On second thought, maybe he needs an exorcist. Can he read my mind or something?

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I laughed, bitterly, and winced in pain again. “Read your mind? Are you messing with me? Because I’ll have you know teasing a blind man like that has got to be on a top-ten list somewhere for how you know you’re a douche bag.”

“I’m not messing with you! I didn’t
say
anything about a sponge bath.”
I thought it.
I swear, this guy must be the devil or something. Get me out of here now! But is it safe for me to leave Conner unattended with this guy in the room? Maybe I should press the nurse call button. But what would I say? Maybe I am the one who’s crazy. Maybe I’m imagining things. I’ll call Mom when I’m done here, tell her I need to see that shrink after all.

I didn’t know if she spoke out loud and was still messing with me, or if I really could read her mind somehow. She sounded frightened, sincere, even if she was crazy. Before I could offer a reply, I heard the door swish open again.

“Ready to get those bandages off your eyes?” the doctor asked.

I sat up straighter in bed, too fast, and dizziness washed over me.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been counting the seconds.”

And honestly, I couldn’t wait to look this Olga chick in the eyes the next time we crossed paths and see if she really was as crazy as she sounded.

“Hello, Olga. How are you today?” my new doc asked, gently guiding my body into a wheelchair.

“Oh, you know, the usual. How’s the fam doing? Did your wife like the book you bought for her birthday?” Her voice jumped, her words quick and high pitched.

I felt movement, and I only hoped the motion was taking me far away from the weird girl in my room.

“Yes, she loved it! Already read the whole thing, though, so I’ll have to stop by the Bookman again soon for another recommendation.”

“Any time, Joe. Take care.”

Her words echoed off the walls, and I could tell we were passing right by her. I tried to ignore the goose bumps appearing all over my body, the feel of my heartbeat speeding up. Weird. Suddenly, I didn’t want to leave her anymore. The desire to reach out and touch her hit me harder than the impact of Bo’s car, but I swallowed the urge.

“You, too. See you soon,” Dr. Joe answered.

After I heard the door shut behind us, I asked, “What happened to that girl in there? She said something about a sailboat boom knocking her in the head.”

I kept my voice calm, uninterested, even though I desperately wanted to know more about her.

“I don’t know if that’s any of your business.”

I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine, but whatever happened, you might want to do a brain scan. She was acting really strange.”

“Well, if I had to give a brain scan for every person who acted strangely, I’d be a very rich man.”

“Aren’t you?”

He chuckled. “Well, I guess that depends on what you define as rich.”

“I define rich by counting all the things I have that money can’t buy.”

The doctor snorted. “That’s a deep thought, kid.”

I shrugged. “That’s just how I roll.”

I’d always been a thinker. Confucius, Plato, Aristotle… those were my heroes. One day, I hoped to join the ranks of the greatest philosophers of all time.

I heard doctors and nurses scurrying down the hall, probably with a crash cart, racing again to bring back someone from the dead. My last thought before Dr. Joe ushered me into a new room was I’m lucky to be alive, but I didn’t quite believe those words yet.

“Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.”
Sonnet 116
from William Shakespeare,
Shakespeare’s Sonnets

"The people you care about most in life
are taken from you too soon.”
—Nate’s Thoughts

Olga

sunk down into the chair after Dr. Joe and Nate left, sliding my glasses to my forehead so I could rub my eyes.
Pull yourself together.

When I looked at Conner, not thinking back to two months ago proved impossible. The image of ambulance doors swooshing open into chaos, the sound of my own moaning filling my ears until I spotted Conner, still unconscious, being unloaded from the ambulance behind me, made me shudder. Nurses in scrubs had hurried toward us, and I screamed for the ER doctors to take care of Conner first. Wet, burned clothing clung to his pale skin, and the fear I’d never get to touch him again beat against my mind like the violent thunderstorm that landed us in the hospital.

I picked up his hand now and held it between mine. Fifty-two days, that’s how long he’d been in a coma. His team of doctors agreed he’d have a difficult time making a full recovery at this point. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what his medical bills must look like, but luckily, the decision to keep him on the ventilator and feeding tube after the first month was an easy one for Conner’s parents. Just like me, they weren’t giving up. In fact, nobody was. Balloons, cards, flowers, and other gifts littered his hospital room. Conner’s Care Page had over ten thousand messages—prayers and get well wishes from everyone in our community and then some.

My stomach rumbled. I knew I should eat something. The only substance I inhaled on a regular basis was caffeine. I’d even started eating my Peanut Butter Captain Crunch cereal with black coffee instead of milk for breakfast, willing myself to stay up 24-7 and keep a vigil by Conner’s bedside. Of course, this new habit caused my huge blowout with Mom this morning. She kept telling me to go out with my other friends, that I exhibited unhealthy behaviors. But even though Nicole, Sean, and Kyle, our other friends, loved Conner as much as I did and visited often, they didn’t quite understand what I was going through. I alone dived into the freezing water and tried to save our friend, and I worried every day that I’d failed, that I hadn’t acted quickly enough.

A slew of swear words rose in my throat, another new habit, fighting to get out every single time Mom yelled at me to “go out and have some fun.” This morning she even mentioned something about making me go to counseling.

“Like that would help,” I’d told her.

Usually, I went along with whatever my parents suggested. I wasn’t sure what made me so bold these days. All I knew is that while Conner slept, I became more awake, more desperate to live on the edge.

Sighing, I swiveled my gaze around the hospital room as I stroked Conner’s hand. New guy had one giant, gray suitcase shoved in the corner. Temptation to rummage through his belongings overwhelmed me. I knew I should resist the urge. Thanks to Mom’s discipline, I conquered willpower a long time ago. But the need to find out more about him made me tiptoe across the scuffed linoleum. I glanced over at the door, considering a nurse or Conner’s parents or worst of all, Nate, interrupting my spy work. The fear almost sent me back to my chair, but tired of being scared all the time, I hefted Nate’s suitcase in from of me and quickly unzipped it.

Nothing particular should’ve stuck out at me. There were faded jeans, a few pairs of corduroy pants, some pop culture tees, an olive-green hoodie, a blue Michigan sweatshirt, some song books, a watch, a massive pile of CDs, a book on philosophy, and a DVD of
Citizen Kane
. Yet, for whatever reason, there was a flash of recognition at seeing every single one of these items. If I had my doubts about déjà vu before, I certainly couldn’t ignore them now. Like a creep, I picked up his hoodie and inhaled, the scent of vanilla and musk washing over me.

After putting it back, I zipped up his suitcase, cramming his belongings back into the corner where they belonged. I put my palms to my eyes, agitated at the wetness there, and tried to hold back my tears. I’d had enough to cry about these past two months, and I didn’t even know
why
I cried now. Ashamed, I rushed back to my chair.

I decided to read to Conner until Nate returned. Finding my bookmarked page, I smiled. I’d just finished reading the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy to him, and Star Wars novels wouldn’t be my first pick for our next read aloud, but Conner obsessed over the franchise. He even nicknamed our group of five friends the Jedi Order. We had done everything together until two months ago, when lightning struck Conner on our first spring sail. The bolt of electricity flung him off our boat, and I jumped into Lake Michigan to save him. The verdict was still out on whether I succeeded or not.